The Outerland air scrapes down my throat. Although it’s summer, the night’s dry and cold, biting deep with every breath. Still, I push harder—putting distance between us, between the rules, between whatever this trial’s about to ask us to do.
Fuck, we should’ve brought five. Six... The thought of any of them dying out here—let alone by my own hands—bile rises into my mouth, I swallow it back, thick and acidic. Doesn’t help.
I should’ve listened to Talen. But how the hell could I trust him?The memory presses too close; his hand, Brian's neck cracking. The silence after. I shove it down and keep moving.
I can do this. I do this. Can I?
I pass one of the cadets from Ryven’s team, half-hidden in shadow. But I don’t stop. Don’t slow. Just keep moving—further out, toward the peaks—until all the sounds behind me fade.
Then I stop, turn, and look around. Time to start circling back in.
A few broken shacks stand ahead, brittle silhouettes against the dust, surrounded by nothing but scrubland stretching in every direction—wide and empty.
God. Where do I even start? How big is this thing? A golden Relic. What does it even look like?
My heart’s kicking harder now, too loud in my ears. I drop low and start scanning the ground, fast and frantic, eyes darting over dirt and rock. Nothing. No glint. No shimmer. No sign of anything worth dying for.
I grit my teeth as I keep looking. They can’t ask this of us, but they have, and if I don’t find that Relic before Ryven’s team does. None of it’s going to matter.
So I keep moving. Faster. Shoving through low brush, crawling under scrub. My hands are raw, knees scraped open, dust coating the back of my throat.
Doesn’t matter. I keep looking, anywhere. Everywhere.
Far ahead, a flicker of movement—moonlight catches on blonde hair, Ezzy’s maybe, or Rowan’s. They’re moving slow, methodical.
Shit, this is going to take forever. And this Relic? Finding it? It’s luck. And I’m not going to die because of luck. Not after everything it took to survive this long.
What’s the strategy here? There has to be one.
They’re testing loyalty, sure—but skill too. Focus. Intelligence. Are we even doing this right? Just crawling through dirt like idiots? There has to be a way to tip the scale.
Magic? Threads? Something.
Think Lyra.
Floorboards groan underfoot as I step into one of the shacks—two rooms, barely divided by a crumbling stone wall, and a roof that probably lets in more rain than it keeps out. An old cattle hut or something. As I move in deeper, a low moan threads through the stone—thin, breathy, almost human. Just the wind, slipping through narrow cracks, whistling soft and hollow as it passes.Something glints in the corner. I move toward it—fast heart, careful steps—But it’s just an old pot. Rusted, catching themoonlight. I curse under my breath and kick it aside. The sound echoes louder than it should.
“So they haven’t killed you yet,” Ryven’s voice cuts through behind me.
I jolt—spin fast. Fuck, he must have been waiting in here. His hand shifts toward the blade at his hip.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I say, steady. “You’re not allowed to engage with anyone outside your team. Remember the rules?”
“Oh, but there’s no one here to see.” He smiles, stepping in. I feel it, his Threads, humming around him, alive and ready.
“Fuck off, Ryven. I’m warning you.” I start unknotting mine, magic building behind my ribs, bleeding down to my hands. Then?—
A sound behind me. I whip around on reflex, but it’s just the pot, rolling a few inches in the breeze.Stupid,andtoo late. Ryven’s already moving, his Threads snap like a whip—ripping up a fistful of rocks and hurling them straight at me.
I drop, roll hard behind the shattered wall, stone exploding above my head.
“What the hell are you doing,” I yell, breath sawing in and out of my chest. He doesn’t answer, just hurls another blast of rock towards me.
Fuck. If I fight him, I’m breaking the rules. I get eliminated. Executed. Maybe my whole team too. But if I don’t—He’ll kill me.
And if I die here, could Ryven’s team still win? Then what happens to Ezzy, Rowan, Finn?
Footsteps echo closer. I look to my right, a hole in the wall where a window once was. Maybe I can slip out?
