by Anna Webb
Jamie shrugged helplessly, as much at a loss to explain it as he had been months ago, the intervening time doing nothing to improve his understanding. “I guess things change. You know what they say—the only constants in life are death and taxes. But they should really add change to the list.”
Emma swept his doubts away with a quick sweep of her arm. “This will pass. You and Ally are meant to be, soul mates and the like—however ridiculous that sounds. You’ll find your way back to each other.”
Jamie shook his head. “I don’t think so. Sometimes, I wonder if I ever knew her at all…”
Emma fell into silence, reaching for his hand and entwining her fingers with his.
Jamie smiled suddenly. “Do you remember the wasps?” he asked.
Emma looked up, a flash of empty confusion crossing her face before she smiled brightly. “Of course,” she said. “You got stung and cried like a little baby.”
Jamie studied her face closely, searching for the joke. There wasn’t one to be found. He shook his head slowly. “No, the day Ally got stung.”
The same empty look shot across her features, even faster this time. So fast Jamie couldn’t be sure if he’d actually seen it. It was a look he didn’t recognize—his twin had never tried to hide anything from him. For a moment, doubt flared into life within him, but he threw water over it, smothering it. This was Emma, and she was finally back by his side. He trusted her absolutely. Surely it was only the stress of the last few months finally getting to him.
“Of course,” Emma said with a smile. “Wasps. Ally. Of course, I remember.”
“I’ll never forget that day,” Jamie said quietly, sinking back into the memory. “You had run for help, and I was sitting there next to her. Her face was so swollen that I could barely recognize her, and she was making these gurgling sounds like she couldn’t draw breath into her lungs. I was sure she was dying.
“I took her hand and I started praying. To every deity I could dream of. I begged and bargained. I would do anything to keep her safe, anything to keep her alive. I would trade anything, give anything. Because in that moment, I was sure that I couldn’t live without her.”
Emma nodded sympathetically. “Ally lived. She survived the wasps, and she survived the Elemental Trials. She’ll survive The Five Finals and come back to you, and you’ll live out your fairytale story.”
Jamie let out a small burst of laughter. “I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing since that day. Like my prayer was answered, and all I’ve tried to do ever since is try to keep her safe. Perhaps I was so focused on that one thing that I lost sight of the fact that we were slowly drifting apart.”
Emma raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
“Maybe I was never meant to be her fairytale ending,” Jamie said. “And maybe I’m okay with that.”
With the admission, a weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. Everything seemed brighter with Emma. The whole world lighter and more colorful. He felt whole once again.
Emma stared at him, and then her eyes widened in false surprise. “Look at that,” she said, “my baby brother growing up right in front of my eyes.”
Jamie laughed, and Emma joined him, and it felt like old times, like they didn’t have a care in the world. Jamie lingered in the moment, but all too soon, reality reasserted itself.
“I know you want to stay, but I think—”
Emma cut him off again. “No, Jamie, you’re not going to talk me out of it. This is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for. What our parents and Sam believed in, and what they gave their lives for.”
“I know, but it’s dangerous, Ems, is it worth your life?”
“Yes,” she replied emphatically.
“Is it worth my life and Allyra’s life too?” The question was a low blow, but now that he had Emma back, he just wanted to be done with all this. He was tired of lying, of constantly looking over his shoulder, and constantly worrying about the people he loved.
“Yes,” Emma said without hesitation and with a hardness that Jamie struggled to recognize.
“How can you say that? Ally is in The Five Finals—people die in there. And the Cleaners, I’ve already been beaten within an inch of my life, and I’m pretty sure that if I fail here, the price is going to be my life.”
“I know,” Emma replied, and her blue eyes turned to ice, sending an unexpected shiver down Jamie’s spine.
Emma started him down, utterly unyielding, but she took in his shocked and anguished expression, and she relented, her eyes softening a little. She sighed. “Don’t you think I know—that you’re here and Allyra’s there, both risking your lives for me? I wish I could’ve stopped you, but I couldn’t, and now it’s too late. We’ve all chosen our paths, and we’re too far down to turn back now.”
“Don’t I get a say in all this?” Jamie asked.
“You can run if you want. Convince Ally if you can. But I’m staying.”
“Ems…”
“No, Jamie, I’ve made my decision. I want my life to mean something, and doing this? I know it will.”
Chapter 25 – Allyra
Six pairs. Two Finals in and that was all that was left from the twenty-five pairs who had started The Five Finals.
The Third Final was one of combat. The rules were simple enough. Each combat round would involve two pairs facing off. One pair would be declared the winners when the other could no longer continue or when both members had conceded. The only unknown had been what weapon would be chosen for the Third Final. It was this question mark that had Allyra and Jason practicing with every weapon possible. But now, even that final question had found an answer—the chosen weapon was no weapon at all. The Third Final would be fought with nothing but fists and knuckles.
It promised to be a showcase of pain and brutality.
If Allyra survived it, she would surpass her own father’s exploits within The Five Finals. A glance though the history books had shown that Samuel Warden had conceded during his first round in the Third Final when his second, Juliette Thiessen, had suffered a wound serious enough to jeopardize her life. Knowing her father, he had probably conceded because he couldn’t bear to see Juliette suffer and because her life was worth more to him than any win.
That type of feeling was rare amongst Five Finals Competitors, and her father’s choice had earned him nothing but derision among the Gifted who valued winning over life. Who embraced brutality over empathy. Allyra knew well enough that concessions would be few and far between.
Six pairs.
There were none left from the Terra College and only one pair left from each of the Atmospheric, Inferno, and Oceanic Colleges. The Elemental College had shown itself to be the most powerful of the Great Colleges with three pairs still in the competition. Marcus was looking more than a little smug at this stage of the competition though Allyra felt that the real credit had to go to Master Akerman and the fierce training he’d forced upon the Elemental College pairs.
Allyra and Jason were the only Firsts left in The Five Finals; in fact, the other five pairs were all either Fourths or Fifths. But they were no longer viewed as the weakest pair. Thanks to their latest challenge win, Allyra and Jason were second only to Xolani and François, who had also won their challenge. For the first time, the advantage won from the challenge was significant—they would sit out the first round of combat while the remaining four pairs fought it out.
* * *
Allyra followed Jason up metal stairs, the sound of their footsteps ringing hollowly in her ears. The Third Final was different than others—it was the only one that allowed for an audience. Temporary seating had been erected around the Combat Arena of the Inferno College to accommodate the audience. By all accounts, it was the hottest ticket of the year.
As they came into view, the audience roared their approval. Allyra refused to acknowledge the crowd in any way. Refused to think whether Jamie and Rob might be hidden amongst them. How watching her fight today would only reinforce in their minds t
he idea that she was truly a monster. She drowned out the cheering of the crowd and did her best to focus her mind on the task ahead.
The seat was cool as she sat down, the metal hard and unforgiving. The bench seating had been built from metal scaffolding, lifting the crowd high above the Arena. It gave the perfect bird’s eye view over the action but made no attempt at comfort. And one glance through the gap between the rows of seating convinced Allyra that no one with even the slightest fear of heights would’ve made it into the audience.
The Inferno College was set on an island formed over a hotspot beneath the Earth’s crust. The island was just one of many that existed in the great expanse of the ocean, created by the Pacific Ring of Fire. It barely broke through the ocean’s surface and was so small that it remained nameless and anonymous. Its magical tenant meant it was unknown to anyone but the Gifted. The Combat Arena below was a testament to the island’s origins. Its dark surface was uneven, where the lava had cooled rapidly as it flowed into the cool ocean water. And the air around them was saturated with the acrid smell of sulfur and ash, mixed in with the brine of the sea.
For the purposes of the Third Final, the lava had been formed into massive columns that dotted over the Arena. The audience above would have a perfect view, but from ground level, the combatants would be fighting in something that resembled a maze.
The first two pairs made their way into the Arena, and the crowd’s cheering reached fever pitch, already baying for blood. This first bout in the Third Final would be fought between Connor and Elisha, the Fifths from the Atmospheric College, and Owen and Eric, the Fourths from the Elemental College. This deep into the competition, neither pair showed any sign of nerves as they readied themselves though Elisha did briefly pull at the iron shackles on her wrists that suggested something of the thoughts running through her mind.
Marcus called for them to start, and immediately, Connor and Elisha darted away, hiding behind the columns. Owen and Eric took a more direct approach, stalking forward toward their prey.
The minutes ticked by, and Connor and Elisha continued to avoid direct confrontation, constantly darting between the columns. It didn’t take long for boredom to overtake the crowd, and soon enough, the cheers had turned to jeers. The crowd screamed with a single voice for the combatants to fight.
“What are they doing?” Jason muttered from beside Allyra. “Avoiding the fight is utterly illogical.”
Allyra shrugged. She couldn’t quite figure out Connor and Elisha’s strategy either. All four combatants were Infernos, so Connor and Elisha didn’t have any more endurance to exploit than Owen and Eric. Hiding among the columns didn’t seem to be a plan based on a sound foundation.
After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, the crowd’s agitation seemed to infect Owen, and he let out a roar of pure frustration. “Come out here and fight! Stop hiding, you cowards!”
A small smile worked its way onto Allyra’s lips. Perhaps Connor and Elisha had the right idea after all. Owen and Eric might be the stronger pair but only if they remained focused and on task. Right now, Owen looked angry enough to explode, certainly too angry to notice Connor perched on the column directly behind him.
Almost faster than the eye could follow, Connor swung from the column and landed a kick directly to the back of Owen’s head. Owen let out a howl of rage and pain. Distracted by the noise, Eric failed to see Elisha sneak up behind him, and she took hold of his neck and slammed his head directly into a column. The cooled lava column was as hard as rock, and in places, it was iridescent like black glass and equally as sharp. Elisha’s aim was perfect, and she drove Eric’s head into a razor-sharp edge. He fell to the ground with blood streaming down his face from a deep cut to the forehead. With the damage done, Connor and Elisha disappeared once more into their game of hide and seek.
Allyra bit back a grin. Owen was more than a little unsettled now and was twisting his neck around trying to see exactly where his opponents were. It was, all in all, a fairly accurate impression of a headless chicken. But next to her, Jason was shaking his head.
“What?” she asked.
“That wasn’t smart,” Jason replied.
“Seems pretty smart to me. Eric’s down and Owen doesn’t look like he’s thinking straight right now.”
Jason shot her a sidelong glance. “You don’t know Owen Fan nearly as well as I do. Making him angry is the last thing you want to do.”
He inclined his head back toward the Arena. “Watch,” he said.
Eric had his hand pressed against the cut on his forehead, but he wasn’t having much luck staunching the blood flowing liberally down the left side of his face. But when Owen reached out a hand to him, Eric didn’t hesitate and allowed his partner to pull him to his feet. He stumbled over his first step but then steadied himself and wiped the blood from his eyes. It was clear that he had no intention of allowing the injury to slow him down.
When they started moving again, Owen stalked forward with quiet purpose, all his anger having cooled into deadly intent. Without signaling to each other, Owen and Eric parted ways and started to pursue their prey like wolves from the same pack.
Allyra glanced at Jason. “Tethered?” she questioned.
He nodded sharply without taking his eyes off the action.
Silently Owen and Eric rounded on Connor and Elisha. When it eventually happened, the fight was short and brutal. And completely one sided.
Owen caught up with Connor first, and for a while, Connor held his own. The two of them traded blow for blow. But soon enough, Owen threw a punch that landed on the side of Connor’s head with bone-crunching force. Connor crumpled to the ground senseless.
Owen then turned to his partner, who was holding Elisha, his hand across her mouth, not allowing her to concede. There was a sadistic glint in Owen’s eyes as he made his way forward slowly. When he was no more than a couple of steps away, Eric kicked the back of Elisha’s legs, forcing her to her knees, all the while keeping his hand firmly clamped over her mouth. He pulled her head back by her hair and forced her to look up at Owen.
The fear in Elisha’s dark eyes was unmistakable. It made Allyra sick to her stomach.
“They’re enjoying this,” Allyra whispered and tried to avert her eyes. There was no part of her that wanted to see what was about to come.
“Don’t,” Jason said sharply but quietly. “They’re watching us. If you can’t bear to watch pain being inflicted on another, they’ll know that you can’t take it or inflict it yourself. They’ll take it as a sign of weakness, and they’ll exploit it.”
He was right, of course. There was no space for fear. No space for empathy.
Allyra forced her eyes back to the Arena. Owen pulled Elisha’s right arm out, but he was holding back, waiting for something. In front of them, Connor’s eyes fluttered open, and Owen’s smile widened. He leaned down and whispered something into Elisha’s ear. The crowd had fallen silent, every person straining to hear Owen’s words, but they were meant for Elisha alone. Her eyes were huge and liquid with terror, but whatever Owen said, it made her expression harden, and she shook her head slightly.
Owen grinned. “Perfect,” he said, louder now, putting on a show for the crowd. “I do so enjoy making girls scream.” He stretched Elisha’s arm out, holding it in place at the wrist and shoulder, and then he kicked it in at the elbow, shattering her arm. Even with Eric’s hand over her mouth, Elisha’s anguished scream rang across the Arena.
Connor tried to get to his feet, his expression a mirror of his partner’s agony. “Stop,” he moaned, “I concede.”
“You conceding is not enough,” Owen taunted. “She has to concede, and it just doesn’t look like she wants to.”
Connor stumbled to his feet unsteadily and lurched toward Owen, trying to tackle him to the ground. Owen stepped out of the way almost disdainfully, and Connor fell past him, collapsing once more on the ground.
Owen rolled his eyes theatrically. “This is pathetic,” he said to Eric
. “Just finish it.”
Eric grinned and without a word, without warning, he snapped Elisha’s head to the side. Elisha’s body slipped to the ground. Lifeless.
A ragdoll. A lifeless ragdoll.
Connor’s wail of agony seemed to shatter the very air around them.
Allyra watched with horror, a gasp of revulsion wedged in her throat and nausea rising as her stomach heaved. Never had the brutality of the Gifted world been more real than in this very moment. Her breathing quickened uncontrollably until black spots appeared in her vision.
She was going to faint.
Jason’s hand wrapped firmly around her wrist and pulled her back from the brink. “Breathe,” he whispered. “Steady—we’ll get through this.”
She could feel Jason’s steady heartbeat through his fingers, and she concentrated on it, allowing it to steady her own.
Hydrogen. Helium. Lithium…
She repeated the periodic table over and over in her head, her eyes open but unseeing. She didn’t see them carry Elisha’s limp body from the Arena nor did she see them sedate Connor as his grief overwhelmed him.
A desperate need to get away spread through her like ants crawling over her skin. It sent her mind stumbling backward—into the past…
Allyra looked down and saw the Arena—as it had been, in another time. In Alex’s time. Her mind was fractured. Broken. Her hold on the memory was tenuous at best, and she struggled to make out the details. The Arena was still made of the same iridescent black rock but missing were the huge columns. Instead, the Arena was filled with people, all clad in black and facing a center, raised platform.
She concentrated on the platform, trying to sharpen her vision of the memory. Slowly, like a picture developing, it came into focus. Almost immediately, she wished it hadn’t. Laid on the platform were two bodies, and even though she was parting the curtains of time and looking at the picture from a distance, Allyra knew that the bodies were lifeless.
