“No. I won’t leave Ravi and Raiden in the open. Ravi, want to make it rain? Maybe slow them down?” I ask.
He shrugs, and I roll my eyes at how much he’s not helping. He looks towards the Jarkoreth, and I step back a pace or two before we connect our hands.
Faint rain starts to fall, dampening the air around us, and then, as I squeeze his hand, a deluge unleashes, along with that prickly sensation of power travelling up my arm.
“Try maintaining it when you let go. Project your power,” Capella encourages. “You’ve already done it, so believe in yourself.” I don’t have time to argue with her or thank her for the boost of confidence. I grasp for all my control and all the power that is locked away in that body of water, and I wrap my will around Ravi’s, feel for his connection, his strand of power, and I hold it in my mind.
My hand lets his go, a fraction, then another, and the rain still hammers us, drenching us through.
“Oh, my stars, you did it.” He sounds shocked, and I try to brush off the surprise and doubt he must have in me, regardless of the dead creature among us.
“Well done! That’s amazing, Ever!” Capella didn’t bat an eyelid at the death graveyard she helped me create, and now this. A well of power ripples with the warmth of praise from a friend.
But nothing we can do is enough because we can hear voices now. Footsteps.
We all bunch together, looking around for the attack as the footsteps grow louder. For a second, I think about grabbing Micah and Capella and hiding us or projecting our invisibility over everyone. But what about the… Where is the Jarkoreth? He’s… gone.
Ascella and Crimson step out around the tree that formed the last physical block to our position. No sign of Ten and Azur, but Calix is with them, and while we might say we were friends, I can’t count on him to defend me against his sister.
Three against five weren’t such bad odds. It could be worse, I force a positive spin in my mind.
“We could race past you and win. Some defence.” Crimson looks around and scoffs, but her eyes snag on what’s at our feet. The death and decay, rotting animals, and insects still writhing on the ground where we’d left them in a half-resurrected state. “What in Aslendrix?”
“See, I told you. You’re death. That’s what you are. Nothing but a bad omen. A curse. And you’re going to curse all of us. You think I’ll let you play out your little games and infiltrate us, one by one. You think I don’t see what you’ve already done to Crimson? To Ten.” Ascella’s rage is all I hear. Her harsh, bitter words are tainted and darkened by the image I saw and felt when we connected—her death.
“Ascella, please. I’m not death. You’re wrong. And I promise, I don’t want to hurt you. You saw a possible future. Maybe.” I try to talk her down, wishing that my words didn’t shudder with doubt as the rain still falls, running over our skin and turning the already bog-like ground into a cesspool.
“Well, this is a Warrior trial, and I say I don’t give you the chance.” She lunges forward, drawing her blade from nowhere. Her body’s a blur, using her speed to attack, but she’s not fast enough.
Three grotesque claws reach for her first, swinging down from the tree at the side, slicing up Ascella’s ribs. Her scream cleaves the air, but the Jarkoreth doesn’t stop. It falls from its position in the tree next to her, its decomposing body dropping and smothering her.
“No. Stop. Please.” I step forward, begging the Jarkoreth to stop because I know somewhere inside of me that it’s protecting me—it did this for me.
Its head snaps up and pulls away, heaving the body with the one working arm, leaving Ascella in a bloody mess on the ground.
Oh, shit. “Somebody help us!” I shout.
“Ascella!” Raiden’s scream pierces through the forest as she races for Ascella, Capella close behind her, Calix too. Crimson’s turned white as she stands looking over the gory scene.
We need a healer. Perrin. “Perrin!” I scream. There would be healers, they said. Nobody would be hurt. This was a game. Training.
My mind starts to unravel.
“Urghhh!” Crimson charges for me, but Micah steps in, his hands shoving to the ground. I push my energy out, thinking about boosting his specific thread of energy with mine, and the small tremor multiplies, growing stronger, enough to knock Crimson off course and towards the Jarkoreth.
It snaps its jaws at her, and she pulls her blade, aiming for the monster.
“No!” I leap and raise my hand to protect the Jarkoreth and clinch Crimson’s wrist. All her power and speed channel into me, and I know, without even trying, I’m draining her, not just of her speed and her magic, but of everything.
The well that I draw my power from isn’t there anymore. It’s a raging cascade, a storm, a wild and unruly thing that wants tolash out and fight back, feed off her, freezing her to the spot and eliminating any sort of attack.
She struggles in my grip until the knife drops to the ground, and that small distraction is enough for me to let go, loosening my hold over her.
I look at Calix, who’s approached with stealth, and he catches her as she slumps towards him, all her power drained by me.
Into me.
An eerie quiet surrounds us as if the whole forest is waiting. In my gut, I know what it’s waiting for.
