The starting gong sounded and Flagro and Galla took off in a flash.
“Go!” Dorrin shouted, taking her by the hand and yanking her into action as the momentary shock passed.
“Fuck. When you said no warning, I didn’t think it would be like that,” Ziana groaned as they scrambled up the first wall.
“No one said it would be easy. Now come on, they’re ahead of us!”
Ziana pushed harder, her runes flaring to life as her limbs drew power from them. Suddenly, climbing wasn’t so hard at all, and in short order they were over and onto the sprint to the next obstacle.
The two teams jockeyed for position, each taking the lead and losing it repeatedly as they suffered through what seemed like an endless succession of grueling challenges. Corsus Maximus, indeed. The damn thing felt like it would never end.
“Take the left, I’ll take the right!” Dorrin commanded as they reached the large log they needed to flip to cross a wide gap. Now that they were close, she could smell the hot sulfur water far below. To fall wasn’t just losing time. Mess up here and you could die.
“Heave!” Dorrin grunted, the two of them lifting in unison, their matching pigment combining force and giving them an extra boost of power.
Flagro and Galla were neck-in-neck, but they were struggling with their own log while watching with amazement and utter shock as the supposedly weaker woman was more than pullingher own weight. That was when they saw the faint glow under her top.
“Her runes,” Flagro grunted, straining harder. “They’re working.”
“Shut up,” Galla hissed, well aware of the eyes on them, hoping no one was listening as well.
“Then hurry!” her brother growled back. “They’re pulling ahead.”
“I’m not blind!” she shouted, her grip slipping as she raged.
The log swayed, then fell from their hands, crashing back to the ground. They hurried to lift it again, but Ziana and Dorrin were already across and sprinting to the next challenge.
“Don’t look back,” Dorrin urged, keeping his lover firmly focused on what was in front of them, not behind. “Now run like your life depended on it.”
She did just that, matching his pace as they flew through the course, their linked Infalas glowing, the pigment drawing them to one another and creating a feedback loop of increased intensity and strength. They ran with an intense focus on the ground just in front of them but abruptly stopped when a loud horn sounded high above. The crowd let out a massive cheer.
They looked around, breathing hard, wondering where the next obstacle was. They’d been pushing so hard they hadn’t realized there wasn’t one.
“Congratulations!” the officiant exclaimed, hurrying over to the couple, the elites politely clapping but their faces showing anything but happiness. The officiant was oblivious, or, at least feigned it very well. “And what a win!” he exclaimed. “Let’s hear it for the victors!”
The crowd roared even louder, shaking the very ground upon which they stood.
“We won?” Ziana gasped, looking around in shock. “That was it? It’s over?”
She spun quickly, looking for Galla and Flagro. It took her a minute. They were still two obstacles behind. With the game over, they were simply making their way to the finish line at a leisurely pace. She turned to Dorrin and leapt into his arms.
“We won!”
He kissed her hard, tears in his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. “We did. You were incredible.”
“Wewere incredible.”
He shook his head. “No. Weareincredible,” he corrected, gathering himself a moment then raising an arm into the air in a victorious wave to the crowd. He lowered it, almost sobbing with joy. “I can finally fulfill my promise,” he said, then stepped to the officiant, back straight and head held high. “As winner of the games, I officially claim the release of my father as my prize.”
“Done,” the officiant said, not bothering to look at the Chancellor, who was undoubtedlynothappy with that request.
It was one thing to give this man and his partner an estate and fortune drawn from the five families, but to free his father? The same man he’d personally had locked up? It was adding insult to injury. And he knew there was nothing he could do about it.
Ziana leaned into her man, wrapping her arms around him hard. He reciprocated, holding her tight, their pigment pulling them even closer. Sure, they were sweaty and gross, but she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The victors’ celebration, just like the remarkable tie-breaker event, was to take place at once. With Dorrin’s most unusual demand, however, a slight delay was allowed for. Freeing a prisoner? No one had ever asked for that. The again, it was always the elites who won, so why would they?
