Gigi and Gunther are in the lead, followed by Kara, Savannah, Mei and Rhius. Cyrus thrusts Gideon ahead of him, and Taron is slow, stumbling, so I use my entire weight to pull him along. His jaw is clenched, his muscles tensing as dark veins claw across his neck.
The bridge swings from side to side, nearly throwing me off my feet. The sound of creaking wood follows us across the gorge.
I glance down at the yawning chasm, my heart racing. Vines snap behind us, and a whoosh of air against our backs tells me the dragon has taken flight.
An ominous shadow gathers overhead, stalking us across the bridge. The shadow whips its stump of a tail at us, and the air whistles with incoming scales.
Taron throws his hand up, but his reaction is sluggish. It’s not a strong barrage – more blood than scales – but one somehow manages to infiltrate his invisible barrier. Pain lances in between my shoulder blades. Then a crack rings out, and my stomach drops. The board beneath my foot splinters, shifting from solid ground to air in less than a second.
My foot plunges through the gap, the jagged edges grating against my thigh as I’m swallowed up to my waist. I flail for balance, clinging to the board in front of me.
Taron reaches for me, but he’s still too slow. I can’t hang on much longer, and my fingers are loosening their grip when out of nowhere, a warm hand wraps around my forearm and hauls me back to safety. Cyrus pulls me against him as we run.
“I told you we’d make a great team,” he says with a cunning grin, puffing a strand of champagne-blond hair from his forehead.
Taron growls behind us, his expression taut. I don’t have time to deal with either of them.
Just as our group reaches the other side of the gorge, the dragon disappears behind a smattering of clouds. I put my hands on my knees, shaking, nearly screaming, when there’s a sudden pulse of red-hot flames in the corner of my eye.
But it’s not the dragon diving down to attack us.
Gigi and Gunther are igniting the bridge. The remaining members of the red team are trying to follow us across. The reds continue to struggle over the bridge as the flames begin to lick at the boards.
“What are you doing?” Kara shouts, and for a moment I think she wants to stop them, to show mercy. But no. “There’s a better way to do this.”
She extends her hand to the sun, conjuring a long, sizzling blade of light. She takes a swing at the bridge, and the remaining ropes holding it together snap.
The bridge plummets, and the reds disappear into the abyss. Their falling forms are closely followed by an enormous amalgamation of molten scales and razor teeth.
I can’t watch as the dragon widens its jaw to scoop them up. I don’t want to listen to the crunch of bones that shortly follows. My stomach churns, the taste of bile mixing with the acrid smoke.
“The arch, come on,” Taron says in my ear, weakly gathering me by the shoulders and spinning me away from the chasm, haunted by the red team’s dying screams.
I stumble, my pulse ricocheting as we rush towards the arch. It’s a breathtaking thing, sculpted from stone, engraved with the image of four bodies engaged in a dance, a symbolic representation of the harmony between the sun and three moons. At its pinnacle, a carving of a crystal amulet set within a crown. The ultimate prize at the end of all this suffering.
The dragon’s roars fade into the distance as we pass through the arch into the jungle, leaving only the echo of our frantic breaths and rustling feet.
My pulse slows, adrenaline waning, and, for a brief instant, I let myself hope. We survived the second trial. There are only five teams left now. Five obstacles between us and victory.
See you soon, Elara.
Elara, Elara, Elara…
Her name forms silently on my lips, over and over, until the syllables drown out the screams of the red team echoing in my mind. Each repetition sends a pulse of strength through me, filling the cracks where fear has taken root.
We can do this, I think. We’re so close to the end now. Just a little longer.
But the bloodshed … the heartlessness … I can feel it in every breath, every step through this cursed jungle. It’s horrifying. It’s monstrous.
It’s necessary.
I look at Taron beside me. I know he’d tell me each of these competitors chose to be here. That they’re arrogant, entitled killers at heart – undeserving of our empathy.
But what if I’m more like them than I want to admit? I’m here, aren’t I? I watched in silence as Gigi and Gunther set that bridge on fire. I stood back and did nothing when Kara dealt the final blow to the ropes. We’re all killers here, in one way or another.
I just need to remember: unlike everyone else, I’m not here for myself. I’m here for her. The one person in my life who means everything.
The faces of the dead blur in my mind, replaced by Elara’s smiling face.
