Page 123 of The Blood Rites

The ring rotates faster. Too fast. Around us, everyone lurches, panic flashing across wet faces. The ring rises level with the other rings, then higher, while the outer ring drops again. As we rotate, I see Callen below, still watching over Morwen. She remains still, untouched by the violence. The water pools around her unnaturally. Her mouth shapes prayers into the void. I hope she’s praying for us.

Kael skewers Atheron’s shoulder with a thin needle of shadow. Atheron winces, and Kael drives a fist into his jaw.

Atheron erupts in a wave of fire that would have scorched the skin from Kael’s face if he hadn’t raised his shadows to absorb the heat.

Atheron recovers, pressing a molten finger to the wound in his shoulder, roaring as the flesh cauterises.

Kael goes for him again, but Atheron counters with another massive burst of flame. Kael absorbs it, but this time, as the darkness dissipates, Atheron bursts through the black mist like a blazing sun. He grips Kael by the collar and hurls him into the pillar we’re sheltered behind. Kael’s skull smashes against the glass, and he collapses, stunned. The floor beneath him is cracked and sharp, slicing into his arms like claws.

Atheron turns his gaze toward Marissa and me.

He’s coming for me.

I rise to my feet and step in front of Kael. He has done it for me enough times. I raise my hands, but I don’t have a plan. The only thought left in my head is survive.

The ring spins faster again, and I wonder how long any of us can keep our footing. The ground is too slick, and the middle ring has risen far above the other two now.

Atheron charges at me, propelled by flames roaring behind him. I try to raise my shield, but he is too quick. The golden dome splinters as Atheron drives his shoulder into it. He is on me, hands at my throat, lifting me off the ground. My skin boils beneath his touch, as though he intends to burn clean through my throat.

“Hello, little rabbit,” he says, my skin blistering with each passing second. “You’re a slippery one, aren’t you?”

I try to kick, but he’s too strong. He presses his thumb to my windpipe, and my vision tunnels.

He glances down at Kael. “You two really have me vexed,” he says.

“Who to kill first?” he muses, looking between us. “What will cause the most suffering?”

A tendril of shadow slithers across the ground beneath me. It snaps up like a whip and lashes across Atheron’s face, drawing blood. Kael rolls to his feet and sends another blast of shadow after it. Atheron drops me to the floor, where I curl, gasping for air.

Kael and Atheron clash once more, the violence so intense that the rain evaporates before it can reach them. Alaris comes to and manages to roll towards me. His face is a mess of blood, but he is alive.

“We have to move,” he says, voice ragged. “This ring is moving too fast.”

Atheron lands a blow to Kael’s temple, staggering him. He advances, intent on ending it, but Kael drops to one knee and lets the spin of the ring slide him across the water-slick glass and out of reach. For the first time, Atheron looks uncertain. He glances up at the pink crown as if waiting for some cue, then back down to us.

Alaris is right. The ring is now rotating so fast that the far edge is a blur. The whole world is spinning, the force of it pulling at my limbs, ready to launch me out into empty air at any second. Marissa holds on to me, but her grip is slipping. I pull her with me, crawling back towards the pillar. Alaris follows, dragging himself by the elbows, his arms tearing open on the cracked, serrated mirror.

Then the spinning gets out of control.

Everything flies outwards. Nyxen and Vaelis, still entangled in their fight with the Fireborn, cartwheel off the edge. Kael manages to wedge himself between two pillars, arms outstretched, but Atheron is caught off guard. He falls, legs sliding out from beneath him, and skids towards the edge. The ring throws him into the air.

Marissa and I are ripped sideways across the glass. Her scream tears through the rain as I grab for anything—her hand, the base of the pillar—but we are pulled free, sliding across the wet surface. A sharp edge slices down my forearm, and I cry out. Kael’s eyes are wide with terror—not for himself, but for me—as he reaches out. A shadowy vine lashes out to catch me, but it all happens too quickly, and the world flips vertical.

We are flung from the ring, rain whipping our faces, the sky spinning so fast it is nothing but light and cold and fear.

I reach for Kael—

But he’s already gone.

We fall.

The last thing I see before the impact is the pink crown.

The number seven glowing bright and hungry above us—

Waiting.

Falling is only rain screaming and wind burning past my ears.