“Of course. It draws on us both.”
“I have none. I’m… spent.”
Sinead stared her down. “And what were you doing that exhausted your magic?”
Kerrigan sealed her lips and stared back at the woman. She wasn’t going to tell her a thing.
Sinead sighed. “Fine. I don’t want to use all of my energy either. It is much easier when it flows through both of us,” Sinead said with another pointed sigh. “I will finish your nose and jaw. They’re both broken. Then, you can go watch the tournament. Once you have had something to eat and drink and rested, we’ll have another session.”
The next half hour of healing was an effort in self-control. She could hear the cries for the competitors and had no idea how Fordham was doing out there, how any of them were doing. But once her jaw and nose were set, her entire body felt so much better.
She thanked Mistress Sinead and then hastened to the box to watch the rest of the event.
Kerrigan gasped when she got a glimpse of the arena for the first time. Even though she had seen images of what would come in her vision, it was nothing compared to seeing the entire arena flooded. A man-made lake now resided within the arena, and overtop was the interlocking platforms. Each of them could move on their own. The ladders and ropes to climb between them weren’t connected but dangling, so competitors had to jump to reach them and haul themselves up.
“Gods,” she whispered as she came to stand beside Valia, the Society steward.
How was Fordham supposed to climb with broken ribs?
“What happened to you?” Valia asked, knotting her blonde hair into a plait at her back.
“Something unfortunate.” She smiled at the other girl though. “Don’t worry. I got a few licks in myself.”
“You’re absurd.”
“Thank you,” Kerrigan said, returning to the task. “How does it work?”
“Each competitor has to find and put together three medallion parts and then climb to the top of the platform. The first eight competitors to finish advance to the final.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Did you not notice the platforms are moving?” Valia inquired. “And there are Society members stationed around the arena, soaking the various platforms. If someone falls into the water, they’re automatically out. No second chance.”
Kerrigan shuddered as her vision whipped through her once more. A push and Fordham falling. Gods, he’d be out of the tournament. How was she supposed to warn him of that now that he was already out there, scrambling around on those moving platforms with a broken ribs?
“Oh,” was all Kerrigan managed.
“Yeah. Oh.”
Kerrigan watched Fordham, who somehow, despite his lack of magic and the amount of pain he surely was in, still managed to move through the platforms, hoisting himself up and finding medallion pieces. She watched him pick up a piece and look at it, and then his eyes found hers. It must not have been a raven piece because with a clench of his jaw, he put it back.
“What is he doing?” Valia asked in shock. “Why would he put the piece back?”
“Maybe it doesn’t fit?”
“Unlikely. All of the medallions were cut into three pieces.”
Kerrigan said nothing. She knew that the raven medallion was three uneven pieces. And though she had no idea why he needed them, she knew he did.
A bell sounded from the master of ceremonies’ box. Kerrigan jolted.
“What was that?”
Valia pointed to the top, and Kerrigan saw with shock that Audria had already finished. She’d climbed to the top of the platform, and she was standing victorious with a medallion clutched in her hand.
“He just put back another piece!” Valia cried. She whirled on Kerrigan. “What is he doing? If he’s not careful, he won’t finish in time.”
Kerrigan shrugged. “I don’t know what he’s doing.”
But she could see that Valia was right. It looked like two or three of the other competitors had already located all three pieces of their medallion and were hastening upward after Audria’s miraculous first-place win.
“She’ll get to enter the third task first before everyone else.”
Kerrigan worried at her lip. Had she made a mistake in telling Fordham about the raven medallion? He’d already be finished and climbing the platform to meet Audria if Kerrigan hadn’t told him about the raven. But the visions hadn’t been wrong. They were typically painful but not wrong. She had to trust them even if he was likely cursing her name.
Another bell rang out.
“Taiga,” Valia said.
Kerrigan paled. Venatrix in second was not good for anything. More warrior tribe Society members meant more war.
“Come on, Fordham,” she whispered under her breath.
Another bell.
“Chelcie of Galanthea.”
Kerrigan shuddered. Great. Two warrior tribes in the top three.
“They’ll both go in after Audria,” Valia told her.
Another bell.
“Roake,” Kerrigan said softly. She certainly knew the competitor from Elsiande. The boy who harassed her in the halls and was likely in love with Audria.
“Surprised to see the tribes who don’t participate in magic doing well this year,” Valia mused.
“They still do magic,” Kerrigan said. “They just think it should be used for other means.”
“Like getting rid of it.”
Kerrigan shrugged. “Maybe less magic would be better for some people.”
Valia’s eyes flared wide in anger. “Are you one of those people who think that the Society should have less power? Because they are the only thing keeping this city in check.”
“I’ve lived my entire life in the mountain. I don’t think that I’m against the Society, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t have an opinion on their policies.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but Kerrigan gasped, cutting her off.
Darrid of Herasi, the competitor that Fordham had humiliated in the last task, was sneaking up on Fordham from behind as he dug through one of the boxes on the platform. Fordham stood, a look of triumph on his face as he slid the third piece of his medallion into place. Then Darrid was there. And just like in her vision, everything fell apart.
A shove, a scream, hands reaching out.
And then Fordham was free-falling toward the arena water below.
31
The Fall
Fordham fell.
His body moved past one, two, three platforms. His momentum carrying him faster and faster and faster toward that impending water. The water that would push him out of the tournament forever.
Kerrigan could hear cheers and boos from the stands. Some who were mad that Darrid had pushed Fordham. Others who were delighted to see the prince of the House of Shadows fall. But she was focused on him soaring through the air. He had no magic. He couldn’t buffer his fall. He couldn’t slow himself. He could do nothing but drop.
She put her hands over her eyes, peering out through a slit in her fingers. Her stomach was in knots. There wasn’t a single thing that she could do.
“Fordham!” she cried despite herself.
And then, with the dexterity only she had seen him move with, he reached out at the last second and grasped on to the final platform with one hand. There was a sickening snap as something broke or dislocated in his arm. An inhuman snarl ripped from him, reverberating throughout the arena.