Her gaze flickers with something—surprise? Maybe. But her pride is still there. “Why are you helping me?” she hisses through gritted teeth.
“We’re not friends,” I admit, “but right now, we’re not enemies either.”
For a moment, she seems like she might refuse. Then, begrudgingly, she takes my hand, and I help her to her feet. As soon as she’s up, she shakes me off, straightening with an air of defiance.
“Don’t expect me to thank you,” she mutters.
“I’d sooner expect that thing to drop to a knee and propose to me,” I reply, turning my attention back to the Frostfang, which has now refocused its gaze on us. Its eyes flare brighter, and it charges again. “But I have an idea.” I quickly explain and she nods. “Go!” I shout as it gets within striking distance.
We both move at once, running to either side of the creature.
“Catch!” I shout to Selene and send one end of an ice rope to Selene. She deftly catches it. We keep running, pulling the rope taut between us, until it hits the Frostfang at the shin, causing him to trip over it, collapsing like a giant clumsy stone building onto the ground.
Selene circles around to the creature’s left, summoning another spear of ice, while I summon a torrent of freezing water, aiming for the Frostfang’s legs. This time, I pour more power into the attack, the water surging forward and coating the stone in an almost impossibly thick layer of ice.
The Frostfang tries to get to its feet, only stumbling more as it tries, its movements slowing as the ice begins to freeze its joints. Selene hurls her spear, this time aiming for the creature’s chest, and the ice spear pierces the stone, sending cracks spidering across its body.
But the Frostfang isn’t done. With a roar, it swings its massive fist, knocking me backward. Pain shoots through my side as I hit the ground hard, but I grit my teeth, refusing to stay down.
I summon my strength, pulling the water from the air again, and fling it at the monster’s fist, pinning it to the ground.
The Frostfang roars, its limbs immobilised. Selene takes her chance, forming another spear and aiming it at the Frostfang’s head. With a final, powerful thrust, the spear pierces through its left eye, and she screams with effort as she plunges it deep into its skull. The creature lets out one last, deafening roar before it crumbles into a heap of stone and ice.
The arena falls silent.
I stay still for a moment, catching my breath, my heart still racing from the fight. Selene is breathing hard too, her hand still pressed to her side where the blood stains her tunic. She looks at me, her expression hard to read.
“We may not be friends,” I say softly, “but we couldn’t have done that on our own. So, thank you.”
Selene doesn’t respond. She just wipes the blood from her lip and turns away, heading toward the next section of the maze without a word.
I push myself up and follow her.
FIFTY-ONE
Eirabella
We walkoff the arena and into a small, lit chamber. The moment we step inside, it’s as if the air itself changes. Gone is the ever-present hum of magic, my connection to the essences—severed.
I reach out instinctively, trying to summon a drop of moisture from the air. Nothing. My heart beats a little faster. It’s disorienting, like losing a part of myself, and for a moment, panic claws at the edges of my thoughts. But then I breathe in slowly, steadying myself. This isn’t an ordinary test. This is meant to challenge something deeper than magic.
I glance at Selene, expecting to see some reaction from her, but she just paces, arms crossed, glaring at the glowing symbols etched into the walls. She doesn’t even look at me. I can tell she’s rattled, even if she won’t admit it. I know the feeling—being cut off from magic is like losing a sense you didn’t know you relied on.
For afew long moments, I stand still, trying to understand what’s happening. The symbols on the walls glow faintly, pulsing with a quiet energy that’s nothing like the wild, chaotic power of the earlier tests. This is different. There’s no imminent danger, no physical threat.
Selene’s pacing quickens, her frustration mounting. “This is ridiculous!” she spits, finally stopping to glare at the room. “We’re supposed to be testing our powers, not… whatever this is.” She waves her hand dismissively at the puzzle. Her voice rises in anger. “It’s unfair!”
I almost laugh. She still thinks this trial can be won with brute force, but I know better. This challenge is about something else. Something she hasn’t even picked up on yet. Something right up my alley.
I step toward the pedestal in the centre of the room. Five stone tablets are lined up, each etched with a crest—crests I’ve seen before. And along the wall, five empty clots. I run my fingers over the first tablet and feel a memory tug at the edges of my mind. These are the crests of the first five kings of the kingdom, the rulers who built the foundation of everything we know.
I remember walking with Rylan through the capital, his voice soft and sure as he pointed out the gates, etched with the story of the five kings. We’d talked about it for hours—how each king embodied one of the kingdom’s core values. He had been so passionate, so proud of the history. That day, we’d each chosen which value meant the most to us. For Rylan, it had been courage. And for me... it had been hope.
I brush my fingers over the first tablet, the one bearing the crest of the first king—the king who embodied courage. The words from the poem come back to me.
“Courage led the first of kin, with steady hand, they soughtthe light.”
Rylan had admired that king the most, the way he had charged into battle, fearless and strong. It had been easy for Rylan to choose courage as his guiding value.
