His servant nods his head, blinking through the mop of brown hair falling across his brow. “Right behind you, Your Highness.”
Shouldering past Kara, the pair cross the beach in the direction of the green arch at the edge of the jungle.
“Wait!” I call, remembering the scroll’s contents.The warrior who dares face the jungle alone may get scorched by its breath.“What about the Games Master’s warning?”
“Yeah, scorching breath or whatever,” Mei adds.
But Cyrus and Gideon have already passed through the arch and disappeared beyond the foliage, clearly content with going at it alone.
“Let’s see the jungle try to torch us,” Gigi says. “Gunther and I are with Cyrus on this one. See you when we see you.” The twins kick up sand behind them as they run.
Kara shrugs at those of us remaining. “Sorry, guys, looks like teamwork’s off the table. I’m sure you’ll be fine on your own.”
“What a waste of time. Let’s go.” Taron’s body feels cool when he steps around me, grabs my hand and pulls me across the beach.
Our group disbands, and the start of this trial feels every bit as chaotic as the first. My stomach roils at the rotten smell that suddenly permeates the air. Like spoiled meat or mouldy fruit. The smell of loathing. I’m not sure who it’s radiating from, but it doesn’t matter.
Kara and Savannah pull ahead with Mei and Rhius on their heels. Behind us, I can hear Cleo and Xander arguing.
“What do you mean you want to back out?” Xander moans. “If you surrender, I get disqualified by default.”
“It’s just … none of this is what I thought it’d be.”
“No, we’re not giving up. Come on.”
The moment I pass through the green arch at the edge of the wilderness, the sounds of the jungle crash over us. It’s loud and piercing, an overwhelming cacophony of chirps, howls and rustling leaves that oscillates through the air. The heat feels thicker here, more oppressive, the scent of damp earth clinging to every breath. Leaves as broad as shields arch over us, and I’m entranced by the flicker of luminous insects flitting past my face. Their translucent wings, veined like cracked glass, hum softly as they dart in erratic patterns and leave faint trails of light in their wake.
“Can you believe this place?” I reach for a cluster of lumen flowers hanging from a vine. As my fingers graze their silky petals, they shimmer with a soft pinkish glow, bending towards my touch.
“We don’t have time,” Taron says, pulling me away.
We move quickly, adrenaline fuelling our strides as we push deeper into the dense foliage. Vines twist aroundgnarled trees, their surfaces rough and dappled with colourful moss in various shades of pinks and yellows and blues.
“Can you still see them?” I ask, when Kara’s ponytail is no longer whipping just beyond the nearest shrub, and Rhius’s pounding footsteps give way to the shrill squawk of a bird in the treetops.
“No, can you?” Taron asks.
“If I could, I wouldn’t have asked.” I sigh. “Sorry, I just don’t want to get lost in here.”
“I won’t let that happen.” Taron turns to look at me and frowns. His head dips down, eyes drifting to my lips – no, my neck. I’m surprised when he steps closer, and every hair on my body rises when he lifts a hand to my shoulder. His hand hovers.
Then his fingers brush my neck, and a shiver uncurls within me. Taron pinches at something near my collar. When he pulls away, my mouth is dry.
I fight the urge to gasp for air as he discards a luminous insect pinched between his fingers. The insect sputters in anger before fluttering away.
“A silverfish moth,” he says. “They cause a horrible rash if they stain you.”
I swallow hard before smothering the warm, prickling feeling sliding through my limbs as he parts two broad leaves and continues through the jungle.
We’re running again and, soon, our surroundings begin to change. The greenery darkens. The luminescent flowers give way to crisp, charred remains. We’re surrounded bytwisted blackened husks that vaguely resemble trees. The air turns acrid, smelling of smoke and decay. I twist my heel on the ground, and it comes away caked with ash.
“What is this place?” I ask. “More importantly, what happened here?”
Taron and I scan the devastation. It’s an abandoned village, dotted with the skeletal remains of huts and indistinguishable stone structures. Whatever walls still stand are scorched black, their surfaces cracked and crumbling, reeking of burned wood.
The warrior who dares face the jungle alone may get scorched by its breath.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Taron says.
