Page 126 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

She nods as she leads me back to the start of the course. “Fae and Elven men, as you would call them, are males. Men are human.”

Huh. Good to know.

When I look up at the course, I shake off my unease. What Riven didn’t tell us was that this obstacle course has magic. Why I thought it would be normal…

Well, I have no idea.

Before I can reply, I hear, “Go!”

I leap to the first platform, cursing at my short stature.

There are five pillars, all various heights and widths, that I’m supposed to hop over, made from floating stones. Apparently, I should be able to run and shoot a bow and arrow if necessary while doing this. If I fall, there’s a barrier to catch me.

Once my lifeforce is restored, I’m told I’ll have to learn to catch myself.

I jump to them, taking more time than I’d like to admit, wobbling to catch my balance. On the last pillar that’s situated about twelve feet high, I have to hop side to side on boulders. They’re close enough together that a full Elven or Fae warrior can run through this section, too. Instead, I hop left, then right, my feet sliding as I go.

I’m told this is to learn precision jumping and magical coordination.

Right.

Except I don’t have access to my magic.

Alex doesn’t say anything from where she stands and watches. I make it through the boulders faster this time and slide to the floor, crawling through a narrow tunnel carved out of the tree trunk.

This is the only part I excel at. Being small in a space built to fit a warrior means I have plenty of room.

The tunnel is filled with otherworldly darkness. Thick, cloying air, and the sound of hushed whispers. I’ve survived Morana’s shadows once, so I don’t stop. I have no desire to linger in them or a replication of them, any longer than I have to.

On the other side, I stand, not pausing to brush my hands clear of debris. Alex had blasted me with magic the first time I did, sending a feeling of teeth clamping around my ankles. I climb the rope quickly now. It’s thick and burns my hand, but being light also helps. Hand over hand, I grunt as I pull myself up to the platform.

I don’t look down. From here, I’m a hundred feet up. The breeze cools my sweat-slicked skin as I take a deep breath and reach for the first hold of the rock ceiling above me. It spans the distance between the course and the forest to where the suspended bridge awaits.

This is where I fell last time, screaming until I was caught by a web of living vines. Alex had told me to grab some water and start again.

I dry my palm on my shirt and reach with the other hand. The handholds are nothing more than pockets in the stone. No magic is needed for this one. Its purpose is clear enough. My eyes scan the glittering gray stone for my next hold. My fingers ache, and my palms sweat as I move, arms straining under the weight.

I’m exhausted. I thought I was fit, but in the span of thirty minutes, Alex has proven me wrong. So very wrong. My right hand slips, my whole body swinging as I flail, attempting to reach the next hold. If I fall, not only will I hate myself, but I might throw up.

Screaming, I manage the next hold, my fingers gripping the stone. Ten feet to go, I don’t wait long, throwing myself forward, ignoring the burn in my fingers where I've scraped them raw, and blood is coating the tips.

I reach for the last hold, determined and already celebrating, but the blood has me losing my grip, and before I can throw myself forward, I go careening back. A scream tears at my throat as I fall. The vines catch me before I hit the ground.

They slowly unravel from my body as I stumble forward and fall to my knees, heaving up the contents of my stomach. Godsdamnit!

Alex’s shadow falls over me. She at least waits until I’m done puking to say, “Good. Again.”

Chapter 45

Ryker

I watch Raea fall, and my heart drops out of my chest even though I’ve been assured—three times—that she’s safe. Riven only slapped my shoulder and muttered something about not letting the one fated to save us die.

Still, I can barely breathe as those wicked vines wrap around her, slowing her fall and guiding her safely back to the ground.

When I finally pull my attention from her, Vaeric—the warrior I’ve been sparring with—tosses me a cloth. I’ve had my ass handed to me, and I can’t stop grinning. I have a lot to learn, and it feels good to be on this end of things.

Across the ring, in another pit, Trysten grunts when he hits the ground, sand flying up around him. I grin as I turn back to Vaeric. “What’s next?”