Page 23 of Graevale
“If a single drop falls into the lake, you will have failed,” he told her. “And if you fail, you shall never see me again.”
Alex gaped at him. “You’re joking, right?”
Silence was his only response, enough to show how serious he was.
“How long am I supposed to stay like this?” she demanded, the water in the glass already dangerously close to spilling thanks to her shivering body—which was thankfully beginning to settle, if slowly.
“There are three phases to this test,” he said, ignoring her question. “This is the first phase. If you manage to complete it, you’ll move on to the second. Remember, not a drop.”
And with that warning, he disappeared.
Cursing under her breath, and then not so much under her breath, Alex took stock of her situation.
When it came down to it, she could give the metaphorical finger to the cloaked man, toss the stupid glass of water, and activate her Shadow Ring to get the hell out of there. But he might be the only person who could help her strengthen her gift enough to save the world. So while she longed to throw the water into his face, she instead decided to play along with his task.
If it was a game he wanted, it was a game he would get. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t invent her own rules.
Carefully going back over everything he’d said to her, Alex was confident that she had found what Niyx would call a loophole.
Crossing the fingers of her free hand and desperately hoping she wasn’t about to unintentionally disqualify herself, Alex drew the glass to her lips, guzzling down every last drop of water.
The moment she was done, the figure appeared again, but this time she was prepared enough that she didn’t topple back into the lake.
“Explain yourself.”
Two words, neither giving Alex any indication as to whether she had just ruined all chances of him helping her.
“You told me I’d fail if I spilled a drop into the lake.” She jiggled the empty glass. “There’s no possibility of me doing that now.”
Alex wanted to raise her thumb to her nose and wiggle her fingers while sing-songing a mocking ‘nah-nah-na-naaah-nah’, but she thought that might be pushing it.
Once again, the silence stretched on between them.
“Faster than anticipated,” he finally said in a gruff, yet somehow still monotonous voice. Alex wondered if that was what passed as praise until he continued, “I’m not sure whether you’re impatient and careless, or cunning and courageous. Either way, what you did was impudent without knowing more. You’re fortunate the glass only contained water.”
Alex decided not to admit that she hadn’t considered what the liquid was before swallowing the contents. “I prefer the cunning and courageous assessment. But that’s just my opinion.”
Ignoring her—yet again—the man said, “You’ll find there is no ambiguity with the guidelines of the second phase.”
The glass in her hand was suddenly filled to the brim again. “Once more, you are not to spill a single drop,” the man said. “But this time you are to complete the task while standing on only one leg. I advise using your non-injured one, but if you desire an added challenge, then by all means, disregard my suggestion.”
When Alex just looked at him in befuddlement, he barked, “Arm stretched out, leg up.Now.”
In the face of his abrupt order, Alex automatically followed his command, throwing her arm out and shifting her weight onto her good leg, the platform swaying precariously beneath her.
“And in case you’re tempted to try the same trick twice, you should know that’s not water you hold this time,” the cloaked man said.
“What is it?”
“It’s known in Medora as oxytophamine,” he said in his bland tone. “But in your world, you would liken it to hydrochloric acid.”
Alex’s hand jerked, the liquid sloshing alarmingly close to the edge. “You’re bluffing.”
“If you’re willing to risk it, feel free to test your hypothesis and see.”
Once again, he disappeared, leaving Alex balancing like an idiot on one leg and holding what he claimed was a glass of highly corrosive acid.
“Think, Alex,” she said to herself. “Think.”
