The boar has backed up now, just a few feet from the tree line. It’s hard work getting the cudgel and its leather strap off with one hand, but I manage it quickly and hold the still-buckled weapon away from me and the tree, waving it a bit to get the boar’s attention. It stops moving. Its beady eyes follow the motion eagerly.
This is a bad idea.
One. Two. Three!
I toss the cudgel off to my right and grab the dagger with my free hand while the creature does just what I hoped: it shifts its bulk toward the falling cudgel, away from me, its head dips down to inspect the staff—and I shove off from the tree, launching myself forward onto its back, dagger pointing down.
Gravity drives the sharp blade into the creature’s shining neck, not me, but the blow works just the same.
The animal squeals and bucks, tossing me in the air like a rag doll. I hit the ground with a jarring thud and curl into a ball, ready for the heavy stomp of hooves—but it never comes.
My head pops up just in time to see the boar—my knife still lodged deep inside—crumble to the ground.
“Run!” Sydney screams. She’s going for the mannequin. I scramble to my feet and sprint to the other side of the arena; we both have to get there in time.
Sydney slides down the ditch right behind me, mannequin over her shoulder, just as the whistle goes off.
* * *
We’re the only team from our round to pass. Sometime during my flying squirrel impersonation, Celeste and Mina let two of their mannequins get gored.
When we emerge from our side of the arena, the Legendborn cheer from their observation spots in the woods. I feel dazed but exhilarated. Sydney doesn’t smile at me, exactly, but she nods in my direction before she walks off to join Vaughn and Blake and the other four Pages who have passed. They stand together, congratulating one another.
The four who didn’t are in varying levels of shock and devastation. Mina’s wiping tears from her face while Ainsley rubs her back in slow circles. Celeste and Tucker are in a heated argument; from the snippets I hear, they both blame their partners for their eliminations.
I stand between them, unsure where I fit in.
When I glance his way, Sel is looking up the hill where the Legendborn have begun stomping their way through the trees to meet us. His brows are knitted together in concentration, his head cocked to the side as if listening for something.
“Nick! Nick!”
When Victoria shouts, Sel is already moving toward the sound. He flashes by me so quickly that I hear the wind crack around his body before he disappears into the tree line in a shadowy blur.
We’re all running to follow.
The trees stand so thick up the slanted hill, it’s hard to see what’s happening, but we can hear it. Something is tumbling through the trees like an enormous bowling ball, cracking trunks in half like giant pins. That something is coming closer, the sounds are getting louder, and then it bursts through a pair of pine trees, sending bark and splinters in every direction, and spills out onto the arena floor, stopping us all short.
It’s a massive, full-corp serpent, its scaled body as big and round as a tractor tire. It pulls half of its body up off the ground until it towers twenty feet above us, bloodred eyes the size of my fist blazing down on us. The glowing creature opens its jaws to release a shrill, nightmarish hiss that scrapes against my eardrums.
A hellsnake, my mind supplies. With a body wrapped tight in its glowing tail.
“Nick!” I scream for him, but it’s no use. It only takes a second to see that he’s enveloped head to toe in a coil of muscle, only the pale hair at the top of his head visible in the hellsnake’s grip.
The Awakened Legendborn gather aether as they run, forming glowing swords and daggers. I catch a glimpse of Felicity and Russ, casting armor on themselves as they dash forward, but the quick-shadow shape of Selwyn Kane speeds out of the trees and leaps onto the snake before anyone else has reached it.
While the serpent writhes, Sel scrabbles up its body, using its scales as handholds. He mounts its head as the creature thrashes back and forth, its forked tongue flicking out like a glowing whip. Sel had no time to form a weapon, but his entire body is wrapped in thin, swirling clouds of silver-blue aether. He pulls back with a roar and thrusts both of his arms into the snake’s eyes, burying them into the sockets up to his elbow.
The creature screams loud enough to shatter glass. Its big body spasms so hard anyone else would have been thrown, but Sel holds tight and only pushes his arms in farther. Viscous fluid erupts in his face. After a final shudder, the hellsnake goes stiff and falls forward, releasing a gasping Nick right as its head hits the ground.
24
I STAND IN front of Nick’s door for what feels like forever, but is probably only a few uncertain minutes.
I don’t know why I’m hesitating. He could just be sleeping. He should just be sleeping. And if that’s the case, I’ll just go home and sleep too. See him in the morning.
No, I know why I’m hesitating. It’s because it’s late, the Lodge is quiet, and he might not be sleeping—and being alone with him has started to feel… intense.
I gaze hopefully down the hall as if someone might appear and rescue me from the Schrödinger’s Cat of Conscious Boys scenario I find myself in, but it’s empty and unhelpful. The only signs of life on the floor are the scattered few glowing lamps on some of the teak console tables between residents’ doors.
On the other side of this door, Nick is recovering from yet another attack that could have killed him. That’s what I should focus on. That’s what I need to focus on.
I take a slow, deep breath and open his door, slipping inside and easing it closed behind me.
Nick is asleep on top of the comforter in loose clothing; flannel pants, a soft T-shirt. His arms lie straight down at his sides. The fine strands of his hair are partly matted on one side, partly strewn across the pillow like he’s just been blasted by a gust of wind. He’s flushed, too; each of his cheeks bears a slash of red.
I walk closer, my arms clutched tight across my middle.
He’s recovered from the broken ribs that William treated. His steady breaths say he’s out of danger and his lungs are fine, but the slight pull at the corners of his eyes says he could still be in pain. Did William give him something to make him sleep? I hope so.
I start to turn, to let him rest, but jump when Nick whispers behind me.
“Who’s creepy now?”
I turn back to the bed, where Nick has started to push himself up his pillow. He winces but waves me off when I move to help him. “I’m okay, just stiff.”
I look him over with a suspicious eye. “If I stay and talk to you, will William yell at me?”
Nick laughs, but the sound is cut short when his breath catches in pain. “William will yell at us both, probably.” He rubs a hand over his chest and swallows thickly. Watching the motion sends my mind flying back to the arena.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “I heard Sel say to the others that he thinks this attack was planned too. Not a coincidence. That the Shadowborn sent a creature that would be able to subdue you quickly and take you away.”
His eyes go distant as he nods. “My father said the same in the infirmary. The Regents have called a meeting. My dad is going to take another day to recover, then fly up to the Northern Chapter to speak with them and the other Viceroys.” I watch him pick at the gold anchors embroidered on the comforter, almost like he needs to do something to keep his hands busy.