Beyond the Between

by Anna Webb

  Jason nodded, but he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. She knew Chi was gone.

  This time, she didn’t bother peeling the tape away before yanking the IV needle from her arm. She struggled to her feet, impatiently untangling herself from unwieldy bedsheets determined to trip her up.

  Jason raised his eyebrows but seemed to accept there was little he could do to stop her. He pressed a towel to her arm where the IV needle had left a lazy trail of blood and allowed her to lean on him. He led her through the room, winding their way between the nurses bustling back and forth, the doctors shouting out instructions, and the other Finals participants sitting in beds, their expressions dazed with shock and horror. But she barely saw any of it, her eyes drawn to a curtained area at the back of the room.

  She pulled the curtain back, deaf to Jason’s whispered words of caution.

  Behind the curtain were six beds, five of which were filled with bodies with sheets drawn over them.

  Allyra reached out with a trembling hand and gently peeled back the sheets, revealing the identities of the dead.

  Meyling and Asher—the Seconds from the Oceanic College.

  Orrin and Anja—the Thirds from the Terra College.

  And finally—Chi.

  He was barely recognizable. His skin had been sanded away, leaving his face raw and sickly white. The sand had even taken his eyelids, and his opaque eyes stared out at her with a lingering look of horror and pain.

  Allyra turned away with a choked groan, her stomach heaving. She didn’t want to remember Chi like this. Never like this. She tried to smother the vision of his lifeless body with memories of the kind and sympathetic friend he had been. The one who loved books and always did everything he could to help and protect those he loved.

  Grief burned like a river of acid through her veins, flooding through every crack and crevice, threatening to overwhelm her. She recognized the hollow darkness; it was the same desperate emptiness she’d welcomed into herself after her father’s death. If she gave in to it now, she might never break the surface to breathe again.

  Instead, she turned to anger and fury and vengeance, allowing bitter hate to drive her forward.

  “Where is he?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “Who?” Jason replied, his brows furrowed in confusion.

  “Jeong. Where is he?”

  “Allyra—” Jason’s voice carried a note of warning, but she ignored it.

  “Fine,” she said, shrugging his hand from her shoulder. “I’ll find him myself.”

  Allyra stalked back into the larger room, her eyes darting from side to side, searching for Jeong. When she found him, lava-hot hate surged through her. He was sitting on a bed, joking and laughing with two of his friends—completely unconcerned by recent events.

  She pushed her way through them and shoved hard on his shoulder, forcing him to turn and face her.

  Jeong grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging deep into her flesh until she could feel the force of his grip against her very bones. “Careful,” he said, pleasure thick in his voice. “You wouldn’t want to be kicked out of The Five Finals for hurting a fellow Competitor.”

  Allyra smiled dangerously and grabbed his hand, forcing his fingers backward until he released her wrist with a yelp of pain. The smile spread wider across her face.

  “You’re going to pay for this,” Jeong warned.

  “Really?” Allyra asked with a hollow laugh. “You’re not a Competitor anymore. There’s nothing stopping me from destroying you and showing you to be the coward I know you are.”

  “What is going on here?” High Master Zhuang’s impassive voice asked from behind her. “Miss Warden, please let go of Mr. Lee,” High Master Zhuang continued as he appeared beside her.

  Reluctantly, Allyra released Jeong’s fingers. She turned to High Master Zhuang. “He left his partner behind,” she said, unable to keep the anger from her voice. “He left Chi to die out there.”

  High Master Zhuang ran his gaze over Jeong, disgust clear on his face.

  “Yes,” High Master Zhuang said, his voice ringing out around the room, and silence dropped like a curtain over everyone within earshot. “Yes, by Evanescing out and leaving his partner behind, Jeong Lee will now be cast out from amongst the Gifted and cut off from his Gift.”

  Jeong’s jaw dropped in horror, his privileged and arrogant mask slipping, leaving behind a scared and vulnerable coward.

  “But…” Jeong stuttered.

  “No,” High Master Zhuang said, cutting short Jeong’s protest. “Mr. Lee, I gave you all a very clear warning at the start of The Five Finals. There is no graver indiscretion than to leave your partner behind. It simply won’t be tolerated.”

  High Master Zhuang turned and looked over the other Competitors. “Let this be my final warning to you. Loyalty is treasured above all else. Never leave your partner behind.”

  He gestured to four waiting Cleaners to take hold of Jeong. “Drop him somewhere far away, melt iron to his wrists and ankles, sink it into his bones so he may never use his Gift again,” he instructed.

  As the Cleaners started to lead away a struggling Jeong, Allyra jumped in front of them.

  “Wait!” she shouted. “That can’t be all. He left Chi to die, he shouldn’t be allowed to just walk away.”

  “Miss Warden,” High Master Zhuang said gently. “He’s being punished. Do not let vengeance cloud your judgment.”

  “You told us that before the Betrayal, anyone who left their partner behind would be sent into the Between, where Revenants would be waiting. Being sent into exile here is far from being a comparable punishment.”

  “What would you have me do, Miss Warden?” High Master Zhuang asked, his voice tired.

  “I would have you punish him. I would have him suffer the way Chi did,” Allyra answered coldly, her voice even and emotionless. The fury within her had burned itself to embers, leaving her cold but filled with conviction.

  “There is an alternative.”

  High Master Zhuang’s head shot up at the new voice, and Marcus strolled through the crowd.

  “If you want him to be punished in a way other than the one set out by High Master Zhuang, then you’re going to have to do it yourself. At least, it can only be done by one of the remaining Five Finals Competitors,” Marcus explained coolly.

  “I don’t think—” High Master Zhuang protested, but Marcus ignored him and cut him short.

  “Miss Warden wants to punish Mr. Lee, and I’m simply letting her know that she can,” Marcus said, turning to face Allyra. She felt a familiar shiver of loathing crawl down her spine. She tamped down on it fiercely, because for once, Marcus was offering her something she wanted.

  “The alternative punishment is one-on-one combat, but one of the remaining Competitors will have to volunteer for it,” Marcus continued. “If you volunteer, you can punish him all you want, and make him suffer as much pain as you see fit, as long as you’re confident of your ability to beat him. If you do, and choose to allow him to live, he will still have to suffer the same exile as High Master Zhuang has already outlined. But, be warned, if you lose to him, then he gets to live and continue his life as if none of this had ever happened.”

  Marcus ran his eyes over the remaining Competitors. “The choice is yours. Would you like to take the risk and punish him further? Or would you simply like to let things lie and allow him to be thrown into exile?”

  “Wait,” High Master Zhuang interjected. “Before any of you make your choice, you should also know that losing in this one-on-one combat would mean immediate elimination from The Five Finals.”

  Marcus inclined his head, acknowledging the truth of High Master Zhuang’s words.

  “Any takers?” Marcus queried casually.

  Without hesitation, Allyra stepped forward.

  “I’ll volunteer,” she said firmly.

  To her surprise, Jason also took a step forward, only half a heartbeat behind her. “And I,” he said, looking at Allyra, hi
s gaze steady but unreadable.

  From across the room, Henri tried to sit up in her bed, struggling against Adriana’s hand holding her down. Henri was pale and wan after the ordeal of the Second Final, and she was still attached to a drip, but there was no mistaking the glint of determination shining in her eyes.

  But it was Adriana’s voice that rang out. “Count me in,” she said, her hand keeping Henri down.

  Marcus’s lips curled up in amusement. “So many volunteers,” he said, turning to Jeong. “Well. Mr. Lee, it seems that the choice lies with you. Choose who you’d like to face in combat.”

  Jeong shrugged off the Cleaners’ grip. Like a man realizing he’d just won the lottery, a smile slid back onto his face. He ran his gaze over Jason but quickly moved on, passing over Adriana and her grim determination, written in her still poise. Finally, his eyes landed on Allyra, and his smile spread farther.

  “Her,” he said, “I’ll take on Allyra Warden in one-on-one combat.”

  “I accept,” Allyra replied, her voice cold and emotionless, even as hate seethed and roiled within her, forming a deep rift between the mask she wore and her true feelings. Deception and subterfuge were like second nature to her now.

  “Well then,” Marcus declared, his blithe tone at odds with the tension that hung thick in the room. “Now that’s been decided, I wanted to offer my congratulations to Miss Warden.”

  Her name spoken by Marcus was enough to jolt her from staring down Jeong. Marcus waited for her eyes to meet his before continuing. Waited for her to see the slightly mocking smile gracing his lips, for her to read his words as closer to a warning than praise.

  The silence lingered long enough to be uncomfortable, but Allyra refused to look away, tamping down on the instinct to swallow down the lump in her throat. She would not give Marcus, or anyone here, the satisfaction of any sign of weakness or fear.

  Eventually, Marcus spoke again. “I want to offer you my personal congratulations, Miss Warden. Your selfless bravery saved lives today. Your Gift is powerful, perhaps more than expected. Whatever the outcome of The Five Finals, I’m sure you will go on to achieve great things in your life. And I, for one, will be watching with great interest.”

  Allyra inclined her head warily, acknowledging his praise. He had managed, for the benefit of those watching, to impart sincerity and benevolence. But beneath the flowery words, talons had prodded at Allyra’s mind, scratching along the surface of the protections she’d built around it. It wasn’t a true attack on her, just a reminder that he was watching.

  Marcus smiled and swept from the room. Allyra let out the breath she’d been holding. With every passing interaction, she was becoming more and more sure that there was something very wrong with the Elemental High Master.

  Lost in her thoughts, she jumped unseemly when a hand landed on her shoulder.

  “A word please, Miss Warden,” High Master Zhuang said.

  “Of course,” she replied, walking with him. But when Jason made to follow them, High Master Zhuang stopped him. “Alone,” he said pointedly.

  For a second, it looked like Jason might protest, but eventually, he nodded and said, “Yes, High Master Zhuang.”

  The High Master of the Terra College led her from the room, through a long corridor, and into a room in an adjoining building. The room was large enough for its walls and ceiling to show the rounded curves of the domed building, but otherwise, it was mundane and filled with standard pieces of office furniture, the impersonal nature of which suggested the room was little used.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, High Master Zhuang turned to her, his dark brown eyes flashing with barely contained anger. “What do you think you were doing?” he demanded, his voice raised, irreconcilable with his usual restraint.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why did you go into the storm? Did Jason tell you to?”

  “I went into the storm because my friend was out there. I wanted to do what I could to help,” she replied heatedly.

  High Master Zhuang slumped into the chair behind his desk, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers into his temples. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” he said wearily.

  When he didn’t explain his words, Allyra jumped in to demand one, tired of cryptic half-truths and the lack of openness. “What is it that’s so bad about what I did? I saved lives today, maybe not Chi’s, but there were teams still out there and at least some of them are alive because I chose to go into the storm.”

  High Master Zhuang didn’t move or speak for a long time, but when he eventually looked up, there was no anger left in his gaze. There was nothing but deep weariness and disappointment so profound it forced Allyra to take an unconscious step back. “Today, you saved lives, but what about tomorrow?”

  “Why can’t you just say what you mean?”

  “Can I trust you? Why are you really here?” The questions were spoken quietly, aimed more at himself than her, but they set loose the anger she’d kept reined in for so long.

  “Why am I here?” Allyra retorted. “I’m here trying to survive, trying to stay alive in a competition filled with killers that you and the rest of the Council thrust me into. I didn’t choose any of this.”

  High Master Zhuang watched her carefully, his intelligent eyes studying her. She tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. Finally, he nodded. “You don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. Maybe I wouldn’t trust me either under the same circumstances. But you should know that I’ve trusted you, and I’m wondering now if I did the right thing.”

  His eyes dropped to the tiger tattoo on her wrist. “That’s an interesting tattoo, Miss Warden,” he said deliberately.

  She couldn’t help the instinctive reaction to close her hand over the tattoo, trying to hide it from view.

  “I suppose you’ll say you had it done since the Elemental Trials,” he continued. “But I would remind you that there’s little you can hide from your doctor. Or perhaps Jamie has already told you I know.”

  He sighed. “I know that’s no ordinary tattoo. I know, and yet I chose to keep the knowledge to myself. I just hope that I haven’t let sentimentality cloud my judgment.”

  A brief flash of a memory escaped him, and she caught onto it.

  High Master Zhuang—much younger and carefree. Drinking and joking, with—with her father.

  “You knew my father,” she whispered.

  He looked up in surprise and then nodded. “I knew him a long time ago, he was a fine man, and there was much to be admired about him. Courageous, perhaps a little tempestuous at times, but always trustworthy and fiercely loyal. And above all else, he always knew where true north lay. Your father had an amazing sense of justice.” He glanced at her. “In many ways, you remind me of him. And it is out of respect for your father’s memory that I’ve chosen to trust you now.

  “Your father was powerful, and despite a less than stellar performance in The Five Finals, there was little doubt he would go on to rise into the most vaulted of positions within the Gifted ranks. But one day, when you were only a few months old, he left, cutting himself off from the Gifted. And he left behind a massive void.

  “There are politics at play, and you don’t understand the fragile dynamics of the power structure within the Gifted world. The Council is the ruling power, and for a long time, High Masters Perez, Radebe, and myself have managed to maintain a majority, and thus ensuring the Council treaded the middle ground. But after his efforts today, High Master Radebe is in a coma, and the entire power of the Council has shifted. Without a majority, we will deadlock, making Marcus the sole power over all of the Gifted. And I fear he might take us down a road toward fanaticism.

  “I have to believe you had the best intentions going into the storm. But understand that your decision to do so may have far-reaching consequences that you cannot even begin to understand.”

  His words left her feeling deflated. She hadn’t stopped to think, she’d just rushed in, and now—

  “I’m sorr
y,” she said. “High Master Radebe—is he going to be all right?”

  High Master Zhuang shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s sunk into a deep coma, and with his advanced age, I’m not sure if he’ll ever wake again.”

  He looked sad and worn, like a fighter who’d seen too many rounds. “He was your greatest ally within the Council, without him, you’ll be that much more vulnerable out there. Be careful of who you trust, Miss Warden.”

  Aware she’d been dismissed, Allyra walked from the room, closing the door quietly behind her, feeling worse now than she did before.

  * * *

  Jason helped Allyra strap on her leather baldric, checking the twin swords for sharpness and strength as he slipped them over her shoulders.

  “Make him pay,” he said conversationally. “Use that fury and pain you feel and let it feed your strength.”

  She nodded, her breathing fast and the air hot in her lungs.

  Jason stared at her for a long time, his eyes searching for something. There was a hint of something unnamable clouding his dark indigo eyes. In the end, he simply nodded and turned to go.

  Allyra let out a huff of laughter. “That’s it?” she asked sarcastically. “Where’s the guy that wanted to win at any cost? Why aren’t you more furious that I’ve put your ability to win at risk?”

  He shot her a wicked grin. “I’m not worried about you losing to Jeong. I know what you’re capable of. Let loose, Allyra, show them what you really are.”

  I know what you are.

  “And what would that be exactly?” she asked carefully.

  He leaned in close, wearing a cruel smile on his lips. “Dangerous, lethal—a winner,” he whispered in her ear before turning away and stalking out the door.

  A Cleaner escorted her through a long passage into an immense domed structure—the Combat Arena of the Atmospheric College. The Arena itself was circular and sunken into the ground, with tiered seating around the edge, much like an amphitheater. Today, there were far fewer people in the audience than the seating could accommodate—only the Council and the few remaining Five Finals Competitors strong enough to have left the medical wing.