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As I retire to my quarters with yet another glass of ale, guilt grips me like a vice. The weight of my inaction thus far is an albatross around my neck, growing heavier with the realization that my closest friends know I have known about the Race’s dark secret for so long.
How could I have remained silent all these years? How could I have allowed the suffering to continue, the loss of countless lives?
The thought of the blood on my hands sends shivers down my spine. Is my desire to dismantle the Race born out of genuine concern for the well-being of humans? If so, why has it taken me so long to step up and fight for a change?
Or is this merely a desperate attempt to thwart Mace, to prove my superiority over him? The lines between righteousness and self-interest are so blurry it makes my head spin.
The ale probably doesn’t help.
Before today, I may have let my personal vendetta cloud my judgment. After overhearing Mace in the library, my determination to make amends and put an end to the senseless cycle of death and deception is renewed.
I slip out of my clothes and slide into my bed, willing sleep to come. My mind is buzzing with thoughts of the journey to expose Mace’s true intentions and uncover the vessel’s role in all this. Juggling that with my own plans to end the Race will not be easy. I am determined, however, to succeed.
As I drift off to sleep, I find myself hoping to return to that clearing of last night’s dreams. Despite my magic’s insistence that it is not the place for me, I cannot help but feel drawn to it.
Chapter 17
Viola
Aswetrudgeonward,fatigue settling heavy on our shoulders, Tulip’s frustrated groan cuts through the air. “I can’t take much more of this,” she complains, her voice filled with weariness and exasperation. Everything has blurred together, and the arduous journey has taken its toll on all of us. We’ve been pushing ourselves relentlessly, scarcely pausing for rest, driven by the urgency of the Race and our own desire for retribution against Ytopie.
We all were excited when we believed we discovered a shortcut through the mountain range. What appeared to be a promising path turned into an impenetrable wall of vegetation, taunting us. Each strike of our blades only seemed to invigorate its growth, entangling us further in its grasp. Frustrated and defeated, we had no choice but to retreat and take the longer, more grueling route.
Max is looking a little worse for wear. Her spirits are dampened. After Tulip’s campfire tale, I have been spending more time with her, asking questions about the vessels and planning for our inevitable arrival to Ytopie. At this point, we treat our winning as an inevitability and spend most of our time fantasizing about everything we will do once we reach the city and learn what is actually going on within those walls.
I tell her all about my parents with stories from my childhood. We both agree that they will join our cause to expose the truth about the banishment of the Gods and destroy the vessels to prevent their return, if it comes to that.
Max distances herself from our conversations, walking in solitude at the rear of our group. I attempt to bridge the gap, seeking to engage her in our conversations, but her disinterest is palpable. The more we talk about Ytopie, the further away from us Max seems to grow.
At one point, when Tulip slips off to go to the bathroom, I pull Max aside. “Max, what’s going on? You’ve not been yourself.”
I’m unsure if I’ve ever seen that look on her face. My loving, fierce friend seems defeated. Her shoulders slump, her short and wild hair limp around her face, her fingers having run tracks through it. Her eyes, which have always reminded me of moss growing on the north side of a tree, are watery and hollow.
“Viola, I...” Max sighs, leaning on me for support. “I don’t know. I haven’t felt like myself lately. I am really not enjoying you and Tulip rambling incessantly about Ytopie.” I raise an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue. “I just feel this incessant crawling under my skin, a voice begging me to stop, to slow down. I don’t know if I want or even can reach Ytopie anymore. I just want this Race to be over so I can go home.”
Her words hit me with unexpected force, and I take a small step back to meet her gaze. “Wait, you don’t want to go with me to Ytopie anymore?” I ask, knitting my brow with confusion. She nods, casting her eyes downward. My heart tightens at the thought of continuing without Max by my side. She is all I have left, and the notion of leaving her behind feels like an unimaginable loss.
Our conversation is interrupted as Tulip stomps toward us, angrily wiping her hands on her linen-clad thighs. Her hair is tangled with twigs, and her face is smudged with dirt. “Stupid fucking rabbit,” she grumbles, glancing at us.
Max shifts her attention to the young woman, and I do my best to communicate with my eyes that our conversation isn’t over. “What happened?” She demands.
“I was taking a piss when a rabbit jumped out of the brush and scared the living daylight out of me. I jumped, forgetting about my damn pants around my ankles, and crashed,” Tulip recounts with an adorable fury. “You didn’t hear me?”
Suppressing a chuckle, I exchange a knowing glance with Max. “No, we didn’t hear a thing. Wish we did, though, just to witness the aftermath,” I reply, clapping Tulip on the shoulder. She grumbles, combing out branches and leaves from her hair.
“Well, at least if we didn’t hear it, hopefully, nothing else did either,” Max supplies.
My eyes track the sun beginning its initial descent towards the horizon, casting pinks and blues across the sky. “Yeah, good thing nothing heard you - it’ll be dark soon. We have to get a move on.”
By nightfall, we make it to the base of Gallant Mountain. All of us cast our eyes up toward the top. We cannot see it from here, but the arena is there, nestled in the mountains, just outside the city of Ytopie. There is no sign of other participants of the Race other than tiny flickers of campfires. There are no rules about what side of the mountain you approach from, so we must have taken a less traveled path.
Without warning, the air around me stales. A chill runs up my spine, and my skin stiffens and pebbles. The sun is gone now, and a beautiful twilight blankets the land. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a shadow, flickers of movement in an otherwise still landscape.
It’s then that I hear a wet, raspy breath crawling into my notice like a blanket of fog. Max and Tulip have noticed my stillness, shooting me confused looks with intentions to move towards me when I hold a hand up, urging them to cease their movements. I hear the rustle of branches and trees coming from my left. Training my eyes on the spot I heard the sound come from, I spy the most gruesome thing I’ve seen yet.
Lumbering out of the brush is a tall, hulking creature, its skin paper-thin and grayed. Bones from its chest and face break through the thin skin, a ghastly design that pushes acid up my throat.
A part of me, deep in the recesses of my mind, acknowledges that it was once a human, but what I see before me is far from it.
