“It looks like there’re four entrances,” Quess announced around a mouthful of food. “Only four teams at a time?”
“It makes sense,” I replied, studying the maze design. “They always start with some sort of elimination challenge, to try to weed out at least four groups, to make the numbers more manageable.”
“There are wide spaces drawn in,” Leo said, pointing out a few open spaces. “These areas would be good for setting a trap or lying in wait.”
“We’ll have to avoid those,” I replied, my eyes still going over it. “There’s no sign of any traps, but this map only shows a rough outline, so there could be some.”
We continued to go over the map, discussing plans and strategies for getting through it as quickly as possible. Speed was the only tactic we had to keep Ambrose safe, and since whoever was targeting him wasn’t shy, completing everything as quickly as possible was one way of making sure they didn’t have a chance to attack. We discussed our strategies, and even speculated on ways of moving both quickly and stealthily. It wasn’t until my alarm beeped that I realized how much time had passed, and I quickly shut down the generator and pad, and stood up.
“We need to get going,” I announced. “Quess, can you go grab Tian?”
“On it,” Quess replied, climbing to his feet and heading into the back. I began scooping up and stacking the dirty dishes, and after a few seconds, everyone was chipping in and helping me clean up the mess.
I was pleased at how well everything was going, and the anxiety from last night and this morning was finally beginning to ease, thanks to our confab before the challenge. Now all we had to do was—
“Liana, Tian is gone!” Quess exclaimed as he exited the hall.
I stared at him, plates still in my hands. “What?” He did not just say what I thought he said.
“She’s gone,” he repeated, his voice carrying a low note of panic.
I sat the dishes down and immediately rushed into my bedroom. My eyes scanned the boxes that were still unpacked on my desk, my closet, my bed…. the last of which was untouched and empty. I quickly stepped in, throwing open my closet doors. My uniforms—the only things I had actually hung—were there, but no Tian. Under the desk, the bed... But there was no sign of her at all.
Anxiety gripped my heart, and I realized that she must have snuck out through one of the vents while we were eating—ignoring my orders in an attempt to complete her mission. I was more scared than I was angry, and immediately wanted to go after her. The fact that she had run off on the day of the Tourney was dangerous—anyone who had designs on us could’ve discovered who she was, and how important she was to us. They could grab her and use her to force us to withdraw or support another candidate, or kill her just to send a message. I knew she was confident, and her lashing skills were unparalleled, but still, there was no way I was letting them have the chance.
“Quess, have Mercury ping her net, and we’ll—”
“We don’t have time for that,” Leo said, cutting me off. “We need to report to the opening ceremony in only a few minutes.”
I hesitated, looking around the vacant room where Tian should’ve been. “But we have to find her.”
“She ran off on her own,” Maddox said, sounding like she was trying to reassure both me and herself at the same time. “She can take care of herself.”
“I’ll find her,” Quess added with a firm nod. “I’ll get a hold of Mercury and get him to run down the location of her net. As soon as I have her location, I’ll go after her, and in the meantime, I’ll run the drones.”
I didn’t like it, but if Quess and Maddox were sure that she’d be okay, and Quess was going to try to find her, I had to believe them. Because there was no other option—short of trying to find her and getting eliminated from the Tourney for being late.
But God help me, I hated it.
25
Anxiety at Tian’s disappearance, and my lack of sleep from the night before, made me feel like my skin was tight and threatening to leap off my body to go perform a search of its own for our youngest friend. But I kept a firm grip on it, reminding myself that Quess and Mercury weren’t going to leave a single bolt unexamined in the whole of the Tower. We’d find her.
And then I was going to cut off all her privileges for a week. Two weeks. Maybe even three. After I made sure she was all right, of course.
And definitely no hot chocolate.
Of course, none of this made us feel better, and even Ambrose seemed to be maintaining a respectful silence as we entered the competitors’ greeting room. The room was large, and set up with tables, chairs, food, and water—all meant for the competitors themselves. Only sixteen teams had made it through the qualifiers, and given the sheer volume of people in the room, we were among the last teams to arrive.
We followed Ambrose as he made his way around the groups and straight to the official’s table in the back to check in and confirm our identities and ranks—anyone under ten would be automatically disqualified. I checked my wrist out of habit. Still a ten. Quess had removed the legacy net before we had left and replaced it with the normal one, just in case, but I hadn’t checked to make sure it was working.
I listened half attentively as the official explained that our equipment and order would be given to us when we reached one of the four entry points to the arena. No one would know what the challenge was until the commencement speech was given, which would only happen once every candidate was present.
The only advantage we had was Lacey’s maps. Hopefully, that would be enough to get us through.
And as soon as we were done, we could get out of here and back to finding Tian.
“All right, you were last to check in,” the official said brusquely, the finality in his voice bringing me back to awareness. “All candidates!” he bellowed loudly, and I winced and covered my ears. “You have five minutes to report to your entry room. Proceed down the side halls now.”
An official next to him tapped his pad, and the doors on either side of the room slid open.
“We’re entering through Gate 12,” Ambrose said immediately, moving toward it. I stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder—a knee-jerk reaction to the idea of losing him in the thick stream of people eagerly rushing for the two openings.
“Let’s wait until everyone goes through,” I breathed softly. I didn’t want to get caught in a crowd of pushing people. It’d be too easy for someone to get close to Ambrose in that chaos.
Ambrose’s lips parted, and then he hesitated, swallowing back whatever he was about to say. “Okay,” he finally said.
We stayed by the official’s table and waited. I watched the crowd of people, and to my surprise, one of them broke off and began approaching us. It was my mother. And I could tell by her expression that she wanted to talk. To me.
I hesitated. We hadn’t talked since I had moved out, and now that she and my father were involved with Salvatore Zale, I had been agonizing over whether they were involved with the legacies or not. I hated the thought of them being part of that. A very small part of me wouldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that my parents were capable of betraying the people they were sworn to keep safe, the Tower they were so proud to serve, and their daughter, the person they were supposed to protect the most in this world. But I couldn’t dismiss the possibility, either.
My mother stopped a few feet away, then stood there, waiting to see if I would come to her. I could feel my friends’ eyes on me, waiting to see what I would do, and I bit my lip, then decided to see what she wanted. It wouldn’t hurt anything to see what she had to say.
“Excuse me,” I said quietly before moving to her.
I stopped right in front of her and met her solemn gaze head on. “Mother,” I greeted her coolly. “Did you come to wish us good luck?”
My mother’s tongue darted out to lick her lips—a sign that she was nervous. “Not exactly. I came…” She paused again, faltering. “You almost died.”
For
the span of several heartbeats, I couldn’t formulate a response. I wasn’t even sure what she was talking about; I had almost died lots of times recently. “Which time?”
She blinked, and then pain bled into her eyes. “I guess I deserved that,” she breathed bitterly. Disconcerted, I waited, still unsure of what she was going to say. “I saw your lash qualifier. You…” She broke off again, and I let out a breath.
“That’s what this is about?” I barely managed to keep the bite out of my voice. “Equipment malfunction?” I almost gave her a scathing laugh when she nodded, but held it back. My response, however, shot out of my mouth before I could give it a second thought. “I cannot believe you. The corrupt Champion almost strangles your daughter, and I get a tub of cream for my bruises, and stoic silence. But my lash line was cut, and now you’re worried?”
“‘Cut’?” she echoed. “What do you mean, cut?”
I sucked in a deep breath and realized I had said too much. My mother’s loyalties still weren’t clear to me, and if I tipped my hand and revealed that I knew we were being targeted, then their attempts might get harder to detect or prevent. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m emancipated. Your maternal obligation is done. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
Her brows came together. “Liana, I…” She trailed off and exhaled sharply. “I’m glad you’re safe, and that you have teammates who won’t abandon you. That’s all I wanted to say. And be careful.”
Her response once again brought me up short, and this time, she didn’t give me a chance to formulate a response. She left, disappearing back into the still-steady stream of people filing out.
I stared after her, trying to process what had just happened. For all I knew, it was a ploy. My parents had to know the effect they had on me, and by trying to have a touching moment with me, maybe she was trying to throw me off. Salvatore might have even put her up to it in order to keep me unfocused.
If they had wanted to throw me off, it was working. My mother had not only shown her concern this time, but actually verbalized it—something I hadn’t thought she was capable of doing. It had to be a ploy. It had to be.
Yet, my instincts were telling me something different. They were screaming at me to trust that she was being genuine, to chase after her and warn her about the legacies and their battle to control the Champion. But I couldn’t. Even if I believed that she was being honest, it was too late—she was gone.
And I couldn’t rule out that my instincts were skewed by my emotional state of mind, which was already bad due to Tian sneaking out. I had always wanted a good relationship with my mother—both my parents, really—and that didn’t just stop because I’d made the decision to cut them out. It was there—and it always would be. The need to be accepted and loved by the people who had a hand in making you was inborn. But I couldn’t trust that, either; I’d been burned before.
“Are you okay?” Leo asked, his voice much closer than it should’ve been, and it startled me out of my thoughts.
Turning, I saw that he had moved nearer to me. Ambrose and Maddox were still waiting by the table, and from the way they were pointedly not meeting my gaze, I realized that I had been standing rock-still for a while. The room was now empty.
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head in an attempt to clear my mind. The challenge—that was all that mattered. Getting through it and getting out as quickly as possible. “Let’s go.”
Leo frowned as I brushed past him, and I could tell he wanted to ask about what had happened with my mother, but I ignored it. I didn’t want an emotional heart-to-heart right now; we had things that needed to get done.
Ambrose pushed off the table, and we headed down the left hall, which wrapped around the stadium. We were actually underneath the stands, and even though there were several feet of steel separating us from them, I could hear thousands of voices, muffled, but still there.
We passed several sealed doors as we went along, each of them leading to a utility closet that was run by the master-of-arms and had direct access to the arena. But it seemed only a few were being used for this challenge. Everything else was restricted, which meant we couldn’t fall back to another room, once we were in the maze. They had probably even sealed off the door from the other side, but I wouldn’t know until we got there.
It sucked, but it wasn’t surprising. I doubted the designers had even considered leaving additional exits for competitors—probably because they didn’t know that some of the contestants weren’t playing by the rules. Or maybe they did, and it was intentionally designed that way.
Scipio help me, I’m getting paranoid, I thought as we came to a stop in front of a door with the number twelve painted across it in white block numbering. Leo reached out and pushed a button, and the door slid open to reveal the small compartment within. Normally, racks filled with sparring equipment would line the walls and form tight rows across the length of the room, but it had been cleared out and replaced with chairs and modesty screens for changing. Some of the chairs were occupied, while noise from a few of the modesty screens indicated that people were putting their equipment on.
A few eyes glanced our way. I heard someone say, “Honorbound,” with a touch too much awe in their voice, and I sighed as we entered the room.
“Just in time,” an official at the opposite end of the room barked. “Klein?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ambrose replied, raising a hand. “My team is present and accounted for.”
“Good. Come and get your equipment.”
Ambrose let Leo and Maddox take point, and together, we made our way to the table that had been set up on the left side of the room, right next to the door that led to the arena. I kept an eye on the crowd while they began collecting their equipment.
After a few moments, Maddox tapped me on the shoulder and began handing me the last set. I accepted the harness and batons, and then moved over to a vacant modesty screen, as indicated by the green light being emitted by the centermost panel. As soon as we stepped behind it, it would turn red, signaling to the other competitors that it was occupied.
I followed everyone else inside and pressed the button to drop the screen blocking the entryway. Within moments, we were all undoing our suits and putting on our equipment, giving it a thorough screening as we did so.
I did it all on autopilot, wishing that our nets weren’t in communication blackout for the Tourney. I wouldn’t know if Quess and Mercury had found Tian until afterward. I couldn’t contact my mother to warn her. I was helpless to do anything of any real importance, trapped inside this stupid Tourney, sworn to protect a man who was sometimes more trouble than he was worth.
I exhaled, reminding myself that I was being unfair to Ambrose. He’d shown some improvement, and I couldn’t be angry at him for this. My own anxiety and agitation had me coiled tighter than a spring, ready to explode at any moment, and nobody needed that. They were probably already feeling it themselves.
“Liana, I know you’re dealing with some heavy stuff with your parents and Tian, but you need to snap out of it,” Maddox said from beside me, and I looked over at her as I finished zipping up my uniform.
“Is it that apparent?” I asked, cutting through some of my turbulent thoughts and trying to focus.
“Yes. You haven’t asked when we go in—which is first, by the way—or gone over plans A, B, or C incessantly.”
I gave her a look as she zipped up her own uniform. “Incessantly?” I asked. I looked around. “Do I really do that?”
“Yes,” Leo said, tucking his baton into his belt. “But I like it—shows thoroughness.”
“I could stand for a bit less… thoroughness,” Ambrose added, and I blinked in surprise at him. Had he actually made a joke?
His uncertain smile told me that he had, and a surprised laugh escaped me.
“Be that as it may,” Maddox said sharply, clearly not letting go of whatever she was trying to get through to me, “you have been quiet since the apartment, and it’s freaking me out.”
She speared me with a look. “I’m scared for Tian, too, but we need to get through this. Now. Because we’re next.”
I’d had the same thought earlier, but it had been self-directed—meant to keep me from losing it. I hadn’t stopped to consider what they were going through, or how much they needed me to be strong for them, and I suddenly felt guilty for being that self-absorbed. They were looking for me to be less like that, and more like a leader.
I glanced around at my three teammates and offered them an apologetic look. “Sorry, guys,” I said contritely, shaking it off. “I’m here and with you. I promise.”
“Good,” Maddox replied. “Because—”
She trailed off as the overhead lights suddenly dimmed and a rectangular screen appeared on each of the walls of the modesty screen. Moments later, Scipio’s face was filling the screen. I heard gasps around the room as many of the other competitors got their first chance to see an image of the great machine, but was unaffected by the image itself. It felt strange seeing him now, knowing what I knew about him. What had seemed like cold aloofness before now seemed like a deep weariness, and once again I found myself wondering if he knew he was dying. It would be heartbreakingly sad if he did—because it would also mean that he was powerless to do anything about it.
“Greetings, competitors and citizens of the Tower here to witness the Knights’ historic Tourney, and to help select the future leader of your department. Typically, the Champion’s former Lieutenant would be here to share some sage words of advice about the challenges ahead, but due to competition regulations, he is unable to do so.”
That made sense—the Lieutenant couldn’t both oversee the Tourney and participate at the same time. It would be unfair.
“The Tourney is a rigorous challenge designed to test a competitor’s resolve, ingenuity, and above all, dedication to the Tower, along with the ideals that have helped preserve our home for centuries. Like every department, the Knights are integral to the Tower’s needs and survival.
The Girl Who Dared to Descend Page 24
