“Whatever her name was,” Cyrus began, but his voice hitches slightly, eyes flicking away for a second before meeting Rhius’s glare again with renewed coldness. “Her death was a freak accident. Even if I did kill her, it’s the nature of the game.”
“He’s right.”
My head swivels. It’s Taron speaking.
“Whether or not these two kill each other is none of our business.” He shrugs. “I say we leave them to sort it out.”
“Good enough for me,” Gigi quips before stretching into a yawn. “Just keep it down, will you? Some of us are trying to sleep.”
As the group turns, Cyrus keeps watching us withgritted teeth. His eyes flicker over to me for a second before returning to Taron. “You’re not better than me, server boy,” he finally says.
“I never said I was,” Taron replies.
Their emotions ripple around me, faint in appearance but potent. It’s a strange contrast, how Cyrus’s energy is bold, almost suffocating in its intensity, while Taron’s remains a tightly coiled thread of control, fraying ever so slightly around the edges.
The tension between them intensifies. And then – a loud, jarring sound shatters the quiet of the campsite. The harsh clang of a gong.
The third and final trial has begun.
Competitors’ Brief
From the desk of the Games Master…
Esteemed competitors,
You’ve made it to the final trial, congratulations! Though, I must admit, I am surprised some of you are still here. For the third and final trial, you will race through a forest of whispering shadows. A place that, I assure you, lives up to its name. The shadows cling to their secrets, and the forest hides more than just the path to your finish line, the Temple of Stars. Some things move in the darkness, and not all of them are keen to let you pass unscathed.
This trial is no ordinary race, dear competitors. Enclosed with this scroll, each team shall find one half of a crystal star. To gain entry to the Temple of Stars, one must have a complete crystal. Where, do you ask, might the second half be found? In the hands of another team, of course. How you choose to acquire it is up to you…
You have survived so much to get here. But survival alone is not enough. The temple awaits your victory. Good luck … or, perhaps, good hunting.
Yours ever-watchful,
The Games Master
Chapter Twenty-eight
Taron and I burst out of our cabin just as the gong sounds for a second time. I’m not sure where the sound is coming from. Somewhere beyond the dark stretch of trees to the north.
I finish zipping up my top. The new uniform clings uncomfortably to my limbs, the snug weave restricting movement only slightly. We race across the campsite, one half of a crystal star tucked into Taron’s utility belt.
Around us, teams erupt from their cabins simultaneously. Gunther hops awkwardly on one foot, trying to wrangle himself into his midnight-black trousers, while Gigi fiddles with their utility belt, struggling to clip it into place. We’re a mismatched army clad in black, our only distinctions being the gleaming emblems on our brooches, which catch the faint light of the three moons as we converge on the night.
“What the hell is going on?” Cyrus barks. “The final trial can’t start now.”
Savannah pulls her shoelaces tight and stands, swinging her long black plait over her shoulder. “No one’s making you. Go back to bed and get your beauty rest.”
I notice Kara sneaking out of a cabin to my right. It’s Mei and Rhius’s cabin, empty on account of Rhius still sobbing over Mei’s body by the fire pit.
An unopened scroll disappears into her utility belt, and she nods at Savannah.She’s stolen Mei and Rhius’s half of the crystal star.I decide not to call her out on it. Keep the element of surprise on our side.
The two girls are the first to bolt in the direction of the gong. The rest of us follow them to the edge of camp, where a line of six towering arches comes into view. This must be where the trial starts.
The arches look like teeth biting into the foliage. Their surfaces are pitted like slabs of volcanic rock, crumbling at the edges like they’ve been scorched beyond recognition. The arches pulse faintly with the ghostly heat of something ancient. A dragon’s breath, perhaps.
I nervously scan the sky. For movement. Something fast and fleeting. The shadow of a dragon slipping over the star-scattered sky. But the evening is quiet. Eerily so.
“Do we just … pick one?” Gigi asks, surveying the line of archways. Each one opens into its own shadowy path, vanishing into the jungle.
