One of the shifters, a sleek, smirking male with styled hair and perfect posture, followed my gaze.
“What’s the point?” he muttered to his friends. “No dragon’s going to claim an orc.”
“Yeah, well.” One of his friends, a tall green-haired shifter who looked slender to the point of fragility, cast a dismissive glance over me. “At least he’ll help them in this trial. There’s no chance that girl is getting across.”
I ignored them, focusing ahead as we moved toward the arena. Through the massive doors, I caught a glimpse of a tower, but little else. Something tall. That already boded so well for me.
One of the shifters bumped into me. Hard.
“Sorry about that.” It was the shifter with the smirk, and he didn’t mean it. “Kaz and I were wondering. Who are you serving to be here, anyway?”
Kaz—the green-haired one—smirked too.
“Shut up, Ensmeth,” one of the shifters near me muttered, shifting away from both of us as if we might be venomous.
That look of dread wasn’t forme. It was the mirror reflection of the fear commanded by Clan Bismyth’s leader.
“Oh, scared?” Ensmeth looked at me, even though he was speaking to them. “You don’t have to worry about Fieran. Once the queen hears those stories that the rebellion found a way to force her dragon mark? She’s done.” His eyes were cold and dead.
“Ignore them.” A woman beside me said. “Ensmeth is obsessed with the idea that some of us belong here…and some of us don’t.”
“The ones who belong here can actually scalethat,” Ensmeth said.
I stopped dead, staring at the massive arena in front of us, which had been transformed into the stuff of my nightmares.
A maze of narrow bridges crisscrossed above dark, murky water. My stomach rolled as I wondered how deep it was to the bottom.
Soaring above were towers connected by a web of nets, their bases ringed with cages. Other cages clung to the structure like massive insectnests. The comparison didn’t make me more excited for them to be opened.
I didn’t see any cages near the waterline. That didn’t mean there weren’t any below.
Heights and drowning, all in one convenient deathtrap.
Ensmeth stood beside me, surveying the obstacle course. “First team to get someone all the way across wins.” He pointed toward a distant platform I couldn’t even see clearly. “So maybe just die fast and don’t slow us down.”
“Wow,” I said dryly. “Motivational speeches must be your other gift.”
He ignored me. “If one of us makes it, the whole team wins. I just want you out of the way.”
Two female shifters exchanged looks that said they agreed with him. Fine. Let them.
The announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, amplified by magic. Magical mirrors shimmered overhead, projecting close-ups of each recruit’s face. When Ensmeth’s image appeared, he smiled, perfect and commanding. The crowd roared.
Then my own reflection flashed up. I looked pale and grim in black, my hair braided back from my round face. I didn’t smile. But to my surprise, cheers rose anyway, scattered and muted by distance. From the far, upper rows of the stands.
The mortal section.
They were cheering for me. I wasn’t sure they could even see me from that distance, but I raised my hand anyway. The cheers swelled before fading beneath louder screams for someone else. Still, the moment made me smile, and a heartbeat later, it made me ache as I understood those mortal cheers.
Hope. Pride. Fieran thought I could bring those to the mortals.
Asrael’s words whispered back to me.Don’t lean too hard on luck or pride.
I hadn’t felt tempted by pride before, but I did now, knowing there were mortals cheering for me.
A horn sounded.
The shadows in the cages writhed, then burst outward. Long,enormous rat-like creatures, with sharp teeth, scrambled over the ground with terrifying speed.
