I pinch my lips together, then smile. ‘I keep my word; I save myself. Get to your circle and claim your victory. I’ll get to my circle just after you. You can’t liberate Agnes if you’re dead now, can you?’
Without waiting for their answer, I bolt over the side of the ship and dive into the waiting water. Beneath the surface, there are eyes everywhere. Pale, glowing, waiting. I catch a glint of scales, of a huge, yawningmaw, before the waves churn and I lose sight of it. But in that moment, in that glimpse, I piece together what it is, what they have dragged here from the sea for the crowd’s entertainment.
The morgawr.
Sea serpent, hunter of humans. It is the cursed creature on every sailor’s tongue. They whisper of this monster with haunted eyes, this creature of the Southern Ocean, where no ship dares sail any more. I grit my teeth, cursing the ruling council for their arrogance, their stupidity in bringing it into the heart of Arnhem. The morgawr is death.
All it wants is to feast.
Those pale eyes reappear, rearranged like a scatter of dice, like points of reference on an ever-changing map. It’s hungry, but I’m too fast to be caught. Darting like a fish, like the siren I am, I pierce the water like a needle, finding the rock I seek. Emerging, I grip an ankle, raking it towards me with a hissing breath. Soturi, the male contender from the Spines yells out, but my blade is already at his throat.
‘You’ve already lost out on first place. Lower the bows and get back to your circle or you’ll be food for the morgawr.’
Fey blinks down at us, calculating their odds if she doesn’t do as I say, then carefully drops her bow. I catch a flash at her throat and see she has found a piece of treasure, a necklace. She must have been trying to pick a few of us off to better their odds in the futureTrials instead of claiming just this one as a victory. ‘The morgawr? You’re certain? They broughtthathere?’
I glance up at her, then back at Soturi before jerking my chin. ‘Leave now, don’t shoot the Skylan contenders and I’ll swim with you. Deal?’
Fey spits on the ground in frustration but says, ‘Deal.’
I cover them, swimming with my gaze locked on those scattered eyes, searching for the flash of scales, for the telltale sign of the true monster and its jaws. They reach the rocky side of the arena and I don’t wait for them to pull themselves up. Scanning the waves, I see Sember and Heath, just a short length from their circle. But my relief is short-lived as the sea grows still around them. I haul in a breath, ready to scream a warning, when the morgawr crashes to the surface, revealing a dark, fanged mouth, slitted eyes, onyx scales, a huge and towering body. It eyes its prey. But Sember merely turns, as Heath hauls himself out of the water, and stares down the monster as though it is nothing to her.
And smiles.
Between blinks, the spear she holds is a pole and she thrusts it up as the creature’s jaw snaps down to meet her, wedging its mouth open.
I blink again, knowing I must have imagined how the spear of silver seemed to grow and twist in her hand … but she’s already reached the rock, tossed the ornate box into Heath’s waiting hands and now she’s scaling the side of the arena, hand over fist, to stand beside him in their circle. Victorious.
The morgawr thrashes back and forth, knocking against the sides of the arena and I’m dimly aware of the crowd’s roar, of the churn of the water, as the monster’s tail bucks and smacks the waves. I take advantage of the chaos and dive, length after length, sliding through the water, heart on fire in my chest. I reach out with my fingertips as I streak past all those pale, watchful eyes, making for the circle.
Then the water sucks me back, a giant crack vibrating through my bones, and I realise the morgawr has snapped that silver pole in two, freeing its jaw, and, worse, its teeth. I swim towards the surface, heart thundering in my chest. Turning back, I find only death.
‘Mira!’ Kell cries, holding out his hand to me, already waiting in our circle, terror limning his features. I throw myself forward, soaring through the water, and find the rock, the rough surface, then Kell’s hand gripping mine as he heaves me up and out of the water.
I fall, dripping wet, into the circle as fangs snap above our heads, stopped by some mighty force protecting the circle, before they can close round us.
‘Oh shit,’ I hiss, scrambling to my feet. Above us, the morgawr’s jaws drip with blood. It unleashes a ferocious roar, then slithers under the surface of the water. I sink back down and press my hands into the solid rock beneath me, closing my eyes until my crashing pulse begins to calm. I was just seconds away from being its next meal.
‘Did you find any treasure? Are we through?’ Kell asks, crouching beside me.
I nod, holding out my wrist, the pearls clustered in a glowing ring. ‘We’re through. The Skylan contenders won the Trial. We kept our end of the deal with them. And we arealive,’ I breathe, finally looking up at the crowd, hearing their shouts and screams, the pummelling of voices assaulting my senses. ‘That’s all that matters.’
brielle waits until the verylast second to turn the horses on to the hidden mountain path. Travelling deeper into the foothills, she knows the diversion may cost her if they realise she has strayed from the known roads. Or they may realise too late and not take the turning. She murmurs the witch word to disguise the opening in the trees, creating an illusion of leaves, branches and driving rain. She wishes Lowri were here with her, her sister, more accomplished in illusion spells than even the high witches of their old coven. She would wince at the paltry attempt. Brielle glances behind them, a huff of laughter escaping her as she pictures her sister tutting.
They’ve missed the turning, Nova says, suddenly appearing beside her on the rain-slicked bench.Well done, Hunter.
‘Inesh and Dreska—’
Are not afraid of what lies behind them, or before them, Nova says.They are ready to fight if needed.
‘Good.’ Brielle nods, guiding the horses. She hears anoise at their backs and swears, cursing the skies. ‘Stay with them. I may have a need … It seems our pursuers are more canny than I thought.’
Nova hisses, hopping on to the roof of the coach.One made the turning. They’re gaining, Brielle. The other coach has corrected its course as well, just behind them …
Brielle curses again, knowing the pass is too far. Even if she sets the horses to canter, they won’t make it. ‘Remind our witches of the words I taught them. I left two blades under the seats. If we are attacked, they must defend themselves.’
Nova yowls and vanishes, leaving Brielle to navigate a path through the ditches and stones. As she rounds a corner, the track opens out, long and exposed, the trees falling away on either side. Something prickles in her veins, something akin to fear. Not for herself, but for the young witches inside the coach. She grits her teeth and clicks to the horses, speaking a command.
They break into a canter.
