Chapter 1
Ezra
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Blood splatters mycheeks as I laugh, kicking off of the corpse’s back to give me that final boost I needed to reach the end of the rope. I brace my feet against the wooden blockade, the slats so close together there’s no way to get a handhold, and start scaling the wall. The idiots are so focused on reaching the goal, they aren’t paying enough attention to what’s going on around them. And if there’s one thing you can’t afford to have in this competition, its tunnel vision.
Only a moron wouldn’t assume everything is booby-trapped.
But no, they think the most direct route is the fastest way to the finish line and it cost this man his life. I should thank him; it gave me the leg up I needed.
Because Icanthink three moves ahead, I incinerate the rope with barely a thought, effectively barring anyone else from following me up the latest hurtle. With a deep breath, I take a second to center myself before jumping. There’s no time for second guessing in these games and if you can’t even trust yourself, you don’t deserve to win.
My fingers curl around the metal ring and I don’t skip a beat, using my momentum to propel me to the next and then the next. I don’t bother glancing down to see what is in the pit a hundred feet beneath me, because it doesn’t matter. Whether it’s a pool of lava or rusty nails, if I fall I’m better off dead than living with the shame of losing. We could use the prize money, and I refuse to look my little brother in the face and tell him I failed, let alone make my brothers mourn my death.
I land in a crouch on the ledge, breaking into a run, following the curves of the artificial path. The wooden walls are high enough that I can’t see the next turn in front of me, much less the crowd. A fiery little rat in a maze and one wrong step will be my last.
The game takes no prisoners and has no mercy, because if you need to rely on someone else’s kindness to succeed, you’ve already lost.
A grunt of pain echoes from ahead of me and I slow my steps, peering around the next bend and getting blasted with fresh air. Ahead of me, a behemoth of a man has a hand firmly pressed to his upper arm, staunching the blood that is steadily dripping to the stone ledge at his feet.
The short maze let out at the top of a stone column, another hundred feet above the ground than the pit was. There’s a single, solid piece of rope stretched between here and the opposite ledge, the finish line locked in my sights.
I pause for a moment, waiting for whatever sliced into this competitor to reveal itself or himself. I may be close to the end, but I never let my excitement drown out common sense.
The man takes a cautious step closer and several blades shoot out from both posts at either side of the platform. He steps back before sustaining any more damage and I hear steps thundering behind me. Cursing, I take a risk, stepping onto the platform and dropping to hang off of the edge beside the entrance before the newcomer or tall, dark, and bloody can spot me.
I keep my breathing steady, letting my nails sharpen just enough to embed in the rock to help my grip. The wind whips at my body fiercely without the maze walls to shield me and my bright red hair escapes my ponytail to whip in my face like annoying little flames. My heart is racing, not from fear, but adrenaline. It’s been quite a while since anyone else has managed to keep up with me, let alone make it close enough they might actually beat me.
“Soren! You alright, man?” the newcomer asks, but I keep my head beneath the ledge, lest they catch sight of me.
“It’s nothing, Caius,” the behemoth replies, voice low enough I have to strain to hear. “But we might need to prepare to take a few hits to get to the rope.”
I hear a shuffle of feet and risk bringing my eyes just above the ledge, my arms screaming in protest. Caius is completely shirtless, blood splattered over his entire torso and his short blonde hair. The savagery only adds to his appeal. He rolls a stone across the ground, but it doesn’t set off the trap. He frowns, rising up from his crouch with a nod towards Soren.
“You able to hold on with that wound?” Caius asks, eyeing his friend’s bicep.
Siren scoffs. “What do you take me for? You going first or me?”
Caius grins, shifting into a running position and I know I need to time this just right. The men that run these gauntlets may be stronger, but I’m not only faster, I’m also more brutal. Caius breaks into a run and I hoist myself up. Soren pauses as I knock some debris loose, turning to face me. He freezes as the newbloods always do, shocked to see a girl in the savage competition, or just in general.
I use his surprise to my advantage, breaking into a dead sprint just as Caius sets off the trap and blades start flying. He hunches over on instinct the same time my foot lands in the center of his back and I launch off, propelling myself higher than the range of projectiles and in front of him.
My foot lands on the rope, but my momentum keeps me going, as I anticipated. I hear shouts behind me as I lurch forward, grabbing the rope in my left hand on my way down. I swing, curling my leg around the rope and hoisting myself up, ignoring the brief pain in my palm as nothing more than an annoying blip.
Always sacrifice your less dominant hand if it comes down to it so you can still fight. I might not be able to feel the heat, but that doesn’t mean the wound isn’t there, and grabbing something might be difficult. That small pain is enough to prove I ripped it open, need to account for the blood so I don’t slip.
“Are you fucking crazy!” Caius shouts behind me as I rise to my feet, walking with my arms outstretched to keep my balance on the tightrope.
“Yeah, a little,” I call back shamelessly without turning my head.Definitely not the worst thing I’ve been called.
Another jolt to the rope as Soren climbs on and I risk a glance over my shoulder. Both men are hanging down, crossing with one fist in front of the other rather than risk balancing.
“You’re going to fall! Grab the rope, damn it!” Soren growls, but I ignore him, walking faster to accommodate for their agility.
They’re gaining quicker than I could have imagined and I know it’s going to be the closest match I’ve had in years. “If I were you two, I’d hold on a little tighter, okay?”
I don’t give them time to respond before I summon a small ember in my hand and toss it behind Soren on the rope. I ignore their shouts as I break into a sprint, refusing to look down or focus on anything beyond my next step.
