Valero noticed Fordham’s efficiency and hastened back up the ladder. Fordham hit the platform top first with Valero a second behind him. There was only one more platform to reach and only one way to get there. A black wall about ten feet high.
Each competitor had to run up the face of the slick surface. Most had used their magic to ease their way to the top. Fordham had no magic left.
Valero took a running leap for the edge, but before he could hold on to the edge, Fordham lashed out, grasping Valero by the ankle. He yanked viciously with a pull that dropped Valero to the platform. The whole thing shook with the force of it… and then began to move in a tight circle. Valero tried to get up, but Fordham hovered over him now.
A ripple of unease passed through the crowd. Kerrigan could see the ferocity in Fordham’s expression. His need to win this. And for a second, looking at the cunning evil in his face, she wondered if she had made the right choice. If he could flip to this in an instant, what could he do to her?
Everyone waited on bated breath for Fordham to end it. For him to kick Valero off the platform or put his foot through his face. To do something to earn the nightmares he’d elicited in those assembled.
But it was the fear on Valero’s face that snapped Fordham out of it. He took a step away from him, shook his head once, and then ran up the side of the wall with such ease that he might as well have been using magic.
Another bell rang.
“Fordham,” Valia hissed.
Valero collapsed backward and brought his hands to his face in miserable defeat. Fordham had broken him with a look—a terrifying, menacing look—but that was all it had taken.
The master of ceremonies exclaimed and cheered for the competitors who were going through to the final task as the platform slowly drifted toward the arena lake. They fit together like puzzle pieces with perfect notches until they were one solid piece. A walkway was pushed out, connecting the competitors to the arena floor.
Fordham was somehow still on his feet, standing proud and a touch regal. But as soon as he made it inside the cover of the competitors’ box, he collapsed into a chair and promptly passed out.
* * *
“He will be fine,” Mistress Sinead said, patting Kerrigan’s arm a few hours later. “He needs to rest and recover. His injuries were quite severe.”
Kerrigan nodded mutely as Sinead exited the room. Kerrigan took the seat next to Fordham’s bed, where he had been carried after healing. She’d had her own healing, taken a strict power nap, and eaten enough food for a horse. Her magic had flickered back sometime while Fordham was still knocked out. Sinead had given him some kind of sedative to keep him under.
Kerrigan sighed heavily and leaned backward. What was she going to do now? They both probably needed to sleep it off for a few days. Not go rushing back out into danger. She should just leave him to it, but for some reason, she couldn’t move. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving his side.
Instead, she stood and began to slowly pace his room. His notebook was tucked away against his desk. Her fingers itched to open the book, so she could read what he had written, what had made him bleed on the pages. But it felt too private. Now that they were… friends, she wouldn’t intentionally break his trust.
Her eyes swept to the notebook one more time, and then she retreated. Her curiosity always got the best of her. She couldn’t expect him to trust her if she snooped through his things while he was unconscious. So, she plopped back down into the chair with a sigh.
She felt herself nodding off again when a knock sounded on the door. Kerrigan scrambled uneasily to her feet, ready to tell the person to leave, that he wasn’t ready for visitors. But it wasn’t another competitor, it was Clover.
“Clove, what are you doing here?” Kerrigan yanked her inside the room and promptly shut the door.
Clover was still wearing Dozan’s red button-up and vest uniform. She couldn’t have been more out of place.
“Kerrigan,” she gasped, throwing her arms around her. “You never came to see me last night. I thought you were dead.”
“Clove, I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
Kerrigan sighed and sank back into her chair. She ran a shaky hand through her red hair and then told Clover nearly everything that had happened, leaving out the part about her explosion that had helped them escape. She wasn’t sure she wanted anyone else to know about that yet. By the end of it, Clover looked horrified.
“You were tortured,” Clover whispered.
“Yes,” Kerrigan said softly.
She had been tortured, and her magic had unleashed on the building. She didn’t know if they were all dead… if she had killed them all. What she did know was that this wasn’t the first time it had happened.