“Are you sure?” I croaked, my voice barely audible.
I didn’t know much about the Vilwood—except it was impossible to reach. The very edge of our civilisation marked a gateway of sorts to the land beyond, where people didn’t wander. Andel stepped forward, and the others matched his movement with chilling synchronicity. I could feel them against my back, my arms, my front. The air grew sweltering, the icy breeze unable to touch my skin. Still, I only hugged myself tighter, my eyes fixed to Andel. He was so close that his cloak smothered the oyntille. His hands curled around my shoulders, leather gloves preventing his skin from touching mine. He ducked his head, his breath warm against my ear, his power like an anvil tapping against my body, shocking me and making me flinch inadvertently every time I felt it.
“I’m never not sure.” His lips grazed my ear and an angry, rumbling sound vibrated out of him. “You’re going to pay for this, koli.”
He stepped back suddenly, the others moving with him, and the shock of cold had a full-body shudder wracking through me.
“I will help you train,” Andel announced. “Every night, for the next five nights. And then you will battle the Vilwood. Are you ready, Tempest? The mind breaks far more painfully than the body. You barely survived the first battle.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Good.” He grabbed me again, shoving me backwards. I landed against a hard chest, massive arms wrapping around me, buckles and hardened armour pressing into me. Helki.
“Your training begins now,” Andel said silkily, and then the world went black.
Sixteen
Weaver
I lost my vision for only a moment, the pressure in my mind snapping and releasing as the sound of the howling wind increased tenfold. Helki released me and I tumbled away but didn’t dare go far as I recognised the glittering dark landscape far, far beneath us. We were on top of the Obelisk, the Wailing Crag rising jaggedly behind us and falling dramatically before us, the streams plummeting into the misty, seemingly endless depths of the mountain. It was where the Vilwood began, stretching out as far onto the horizon as the eye could see.
I raced to the trap door, slipping on the cold, polished surface of the smooth stone. Helki grabbed me again, shaking me once as the platform filled with bulky shadows.
Five of them, to be exact.
“What the f—” I started, but Helki very suddenly shoved me into Andel, who caught me by the arm, dragging me to the pillars ringing the platform.
“This is how you will train your mind for the impossibility before you,” he said, and then I began to fight in earnest, because he was edging through the gap in the pillars.
I could feel my Vold power leaking into my muscles, roaring with the wind, beating a panicked rhythm into the air. Andel somehow overpowered me, barely even noticing my very real attempts to fight for my life. He yanked me out to the edge and slammed me against the outside of the pillar, his legs either side of mine.
I could have pushed him.
We could have plummeted together.
But of course, he knew I wouldn’t do that. He had known exactly how to position himself to stop my struggling.
“You will face it,” he grunted, forcing my arms apart and bending them behind the pillar. “You will watch it and feel it looking back into you.”
I felt a hand on my wrist, the strangely familiar feeling of silken fishing line circling my skin.
Vale.
He pulled my arm taut, and I watched his hands circle the pillar beside me, forcing my captured limb to rise and stretch out. He did the same with my other arm. Panic took up residence in my head, drowning out everything except Andel’s face, his violet eyes so bright and dangerous.
His gloved hand passed along my arm, removing the ring from my third finger. “I’ll hold onto this for now,” he whispered against the top of my head.
“This isn’t training,” I gritted out. “This is torture.”
I heard a laugh from the other side of the pillars.
“You’re not training for a schoolyard stone-throwing contest, darling. You’re training for the worst torture you’ll ever endure.”
“Don’t fall asleep,” Andel muttered.
He disappeared before I could utter a reply, and I knew the others had left with him. As soon as the barrier of his body was gone, the wind battered into me, trying to knock me sideways. The lines securing me to the pillars pulled, jerking me back. I had no idea how strong they were. I had no idea if they would hold if I slipped … or for how long.
I pushed back against the stone, ignoring the chill that sank into my skin. I suddenly hated the dress—the awful, wispy material, the barely there brush of silken cloth that tickled my skin, instead of covering it.
It was only an hour before my limbs grew numb. And then another hour when my teeth began to chatter so hard that I wondered if my jaw would crack. I stared down into the Vilwood the entire time, seeing nothing but the shadows cast by the moon. I was staring directly west—the direction the moon was rising. It circled in an exact arc above me, refusing to provide any warmth as the tears froze against my cheeks.
I felt my head nodding several times, my bones aching. I hadn’t eaten in too long, and my stomach chose that moment to realise it, cramping painfully as I stared and stared, finding nothing but blank secrets below me.
For a moment, I thought of the colossal structure below me—of the information contained within its walls, and then I calmed, somewhat, remembering I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only one fighting this battle. The Obelisk was full of intelligent Sinn, like Frey. Sinn who wanted to live. Frey was likely gathering information on the Vilwood already.
All I needed to do was survive.
I closed my eyes, focussing on my breathing, sweeping the aching echo of panic from my limbs and allowing them to loosen slightly. I told myself that I was standing inside a warm room, nothing but solid ground all around me, and when I opened my eyes again, I imagined that I was only admiring a vast view of an endless night sky. I watched the point where the Vilwood became only a blur of shadow against the sky, and didn’t stir again until the first rays of light began to peek into the horizon.
I heard the footsteps before I felt the touch against my wrist, cold and rough, expertly unravelling the knots that had held me prisoner all night. When one arm fell, I cried out in pain, blood flowing back into the frozen limb. My other wrist was released, the solid grip drawing me back into the safety of the circle of pillars.
Vale was alone, still shrouded in a cloak, though I could feel his unflinching stare. I rubbed my arms vigorously, biting back my cries, swaying slightly on my feet. Vale watched me, and I realised my ring was between his fingers. He was playing with it, considering me.
He gripped the oyntille and tore it very suddenly from my chest, ripping the little needles out of my skin. I cried out, my hand slapping to the skin, feeling blood well beneath my fingers. He turned the little beetle around, slowly, pensively, until it faced me. I stared at him, wide-eyed.
“You captivate me.” His scratchy voice sent a fresh rush of chills over me. Until his words penetrated the exhausted fog inside my mind.
“What?”
He drew closer, still holding out the beetle, his hand wrapping around mine as I clutched it to my chest.