by Anna Webb
“What is that?” she whispered.
“An old saying. A vow of sorts, shared between two people before they become Tethered. It’s old, a tradition that is mostly forgotten, but somehow, it reminds me of you. I can’t help but feel that our fates are entwined even if we are separated by the power of time.”
Alex turned to Mandla. “We’re following her.”
“Alex…” Mandla cautioned.
Alex placed his hands on Mandla’s shoulders. “I know I haven’t always been the best friend or the friend that you deserve. I have done some things recently to threaten your belief in me. But will you trust me once more?”
Mandla’s lips curved into an easy smile. “Yes, I trust you. I will always follow where you lead and stand by your side in battle. We have survived too much for me not to. In fact, I’m not sure you can be trusted to survive anything without me at your side.” The last was said with a small burst of laughter, lightening the somber mood. Allyra ached at the sight of their effortless friendship, in the knowledge of what was to come.
“Thank you,” Alex said with a smile. He turned back to Allyra. “Where are you taking us?”
“A tree is not just the trunk and branches and leaves you see. Its life comes from the roots below. And so, the Gate cannot only be opened from the surface, but also from beneath.”
Realization sparked in Alex’s eyes. “The Tunnels,” he said.
Allyra nodded.
“But no one can know what exists in the Tunnels, there is a powerful protection there, one that we cannot pierce.”
She nodded again, and once more, she saw the understanding begin to take root in his eyes. Alex was starting to understand that the danger lay not only within the Between, but also here as well. She wondered whether she would be strong enough to deny him if he asked the question directly. But he didn’t.
“I see,” he said quietly, his jaw gritted stoically. “Lead the way.”
Allyra led them down the spiral walkway from the Council Chamber, through the rooted entrance to the Tunnels. She walked deep into the Tunnels, but this time was different—the corridors didn’t twist or shift, and no Sentinels barred their way. If was as if the Tunnels, or at least the energy that governed it, understood their purpose, and supported it, smoothing their journey. None of it made the lump of iron in Allyra’s stomach weigh any less.
All too soon, they were standing before the massive, iron-barred doors. She ran her fingers across the shapes engraved into the metal. Bracing herself, she forced the tiger tattoo into motion, fighting the weakness as they came to life, flowing from her wrist like a stream of liquid metal and taking the rounded shape of the engraving sunken into the metal. She leaned her forehead against the door and fought to catch her breath. Pressing the ring into the metal, it clicked into place and turned silently, opening the door. She turned to Alex. “You know what to do.”
With a lot less effort, the dragons twitched on Alex’s forearm, unwinding a scaled tail from around his wrist and then appeared in his hand as the ring-shaped key. Once the door opened in his time, she led them into the marbled room.
“Extraordinary,” Mandla murmured as he took in the endless white columns and the gnarled roots forming the five pergolas of the Great College Gates at the center of the room.
Allyra led them to the central arch of the Elemental College, and for a moment, her vision wavered as she saw both the Alex of the past, standing beside her, and the Alex of her present, lying still and silent on the marble slab before her. Feeling sick to her stomach, Allyra stumbled, and Alex reached out instinctively to steady her but remembered himself at the last, his fingers closing over nothing but air.
She gave him a wry smile. “The Elemental Gate,” she said, gesturing to the central pergola.
“Extraordinary,” Mandla said again, walking beneath the graceful arches, his fingers gently tracing the roots. “This is all five of the Great College Gates, all in one place. Did you know this was here?”
Alex shook his head silently, consumed by his own study of the room. “I think,” he said slowly and then hesitated. “I think it was hidden for a purpose.” He shook himself from his reverie. “We need to get started.”
“Wards?” Mandla asked.
“I’ll do them.”
Alex and Mandla stepped onto the platform beneath the Elemental Gate, leaving Allyra standing alone—watching helplessly.
“I’m not going to ask if I’ll see you again,” Alex said. “Because I know we will meet again. We are a confluence, Allyra—together we will forge new paths.”
Allyra nodded, words caught in her throat.
Alex closed his eyes and began to call on his Gift. With a start, Allyra realized she could sense it, like a well of water bubbling to the surface. She closed her eyes and watched him work—weaving green, yellow, red, and blue threads together in patterns so complicated and beautiful it made her heart sing. She could see it so clearly, the power of his Gift, somehow, in this room, time felt less significant, bringing the two of them even closer together.
Carried by overwhelming emotion, her own Gift sparked to life, and she mirrored his weaving, matching thread for thread, and adding her own designs, creating a picture that was more than just his or hers alone, something that sang with the power of both their Gifts.
His eyes snapped open, finding her, with wonder blazing like wildfire within them. They poured themselves into the ward, their Gifts flowing and dancing together. When the ward was done, it formed a complete sphere around Alex and Mandla. The dragon tattoo appeared as a small dagger in Alex’s hand, and he twisted it against his palm until a few drops of blood fell, crimson on white marble.
“A blood ward,” he explained.
The drops of blood swirled together, forming a thin thread, changing from red to silver. Alex wove the thread of life through the already complex pattern, adding yet another layer of protection.
Allyra drew a dagger from her belt and followed Alex’s lead, her own silvery thread joining his—the same, yet somehow very different.
Alex reached up, putting his hand against the ward. She mirrored him and placed her palm against his. She could almost feel him, his palm warm against her own, his skin callused—the hand of a warrior.
So close.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his eyes swirling with unspoken emotion and promises he knew he could not make. Slowly, he drew away, his eyes never leaving hers. He lay down on the marble slab, and the Gate opened—a black, mirrored surface, constantly in motion, like tiny waves over the surface of an almost still lake.
Finally, Alex closed his eyes, and she felt him slip away as he stepped through the Gate.
The past became present, leaving her alone with his still and silent body.
Chapter 30 – Allyra
The world was covered in white. A bitter wind sent ice crystals swirling around her face, each one sharp and painful against exposed skin. Not that much of her skin was left exposed. She was covered head to toe with layers of bulky, white clothing. A balaclava was pulled down over her face to her shoulders, and she had goggles over her eyes. Allyra imagined that she resembled the Michelin man more than she did herself.
“Can you do something about this?” Jason screamed over the wailing wind, vaguely gesturing at the swirling ice and snow. He was similarly attired and almost unrecognizable.
Allyra reached for her Gift and created a bubble of Air around them. Instantly, the world stilled though the wind continued to rage against her Gift. Without the wind sending shards of ice flying into them, the temperature seemed to rise by a few degrees, and Jason lifted the hood from his head and the goggles from his eyes. He shook his head, seemingly in disbelief. “What in the world were the Oceanics thinking when they chose this particular slice of hell for their Great College?” he muttered darkly.
Allyra shrugged. The effort of trying to find words seemed beyond her reach. Her lips were numb with cold and her mind equally sluggish. She was a child of Africa; she
came to life in the warmth and blossomed under the sun. It was hard for her mind to imagine that cold this bitter existed anywhere in the world. Especially since the heart of winter would only arrive in Antarctica in a few months, but already the hours of daylight were limited to no more than three or four hours of the day. And the temperature—well, perhaps once it dropped below minus thirty degrees Celsius, there was no point in measuring it any further. One thing was for sure—this was no place for humans.
Jason seemed to notice her lack of reply and glanced at her. “You okay?”
She gave a short nod in reply, and when he continued to look at her with concern bubbling to the surface of his dark indigo eyes, she finally forced her tongue around some words. “Just freezing.”
He strode over to her, pulling three layers of gloves from his hands. Once finished with his own, he started to pull them from her hands too, ignoring her squeak of protest. Finally, skin on skin, he wrapped his hands around hers and his amazing heat bled into her. She felt a sudden surge in his Gift, and then warmth started flooding through her.
“No human can survive in this cold for any amount of time,” he said quietly. “But remember, we’re more than human. Reach for your Gift, let its power warm you.”
“But I’m not an Inferno—I have no sway over Fire and heat.”
Jason shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Your Gift makes you more. It is energy, in its purest form—call on it to warm yourself.”
The shining core of her Gift was bright, and she pushed for its energy to seep into her body. Like rays of light, warmth pumped into her blood and spread through her body.
She allowed Jason to keep hold of her hands, feeling slowly returning and chasing the freezing numbness as away. Leaving stabbing pain in its wake, followed by warm relief.
Allyra glared at Jason. “You could’ve told me about this earlier. It’s quite a handy tip. So handy I might not have needed to curl up to someone who shall remain unnamed in the desert during the Second Final…”
Jason grinned at her, utterly unrepentant.
“Nonetheless, if I use my Gift like this, I’m going to run out of energy pretty quickly,” she said.
He nodded. “I know. But hopefully they’ve left us with enough food.”
Allyra glanced at the sacks distributed around their feet. Extracting her hands from Jason, she pulled on two layers of gloves, enough to keep her warm but not too much to impact the range of movement in her fingers. She untied the strings on the sack closest to her. Inside, she found a variety of food.
“We can’t carry all of this.”
Jason nodded. “Story of our lives. They’re testing us—again. Take too much food, and it’s going to slow us down, and we’ll lose. Take too little food, and we’ll die of exposure.”
“Any idea how far away we are?”
“It’s beyond my range—more than two hundred kilometers.”
“Two weeks?” Allyra asked.
“At least.”
“Then we’re going to have to figure out a way to bring this food with us.”
Jason nodded. “There might be equipment in the sacks.”
Allyra started opening more sacks, systematically going through the contents. A small voice in the back of her head kept reminding her that this was a race, and somewhere out in the white swirling madness were Xolani and François racing toward the same goal. She fought against the desire to throw everything into one big sack and just start moving. Proper preparation at the start might just win them the race at the end.
In the end, they managed to separate all their supplies into three piles: food, equipment, and weapons. It was the third pile that reminded her that the Fourth Final was a combination of all the Finals that had come before it. At its heart, it was a test of survival and endurance, but it was also a test of combat. There were no rules of engagement should they run into the other team. And if she’d learned anything from the Third Final, it was that the players in The Five Finals would stop at nothing to win.
There were perhaps a good fifty kilos of food: meat, cheese, butter, oranges, and something that resembled bricks of lard. And in the equipment pile, there was a small two-man tent, a couple of sleeping bags, some changes of clothing, and a small sled that had taken significant effort to assemble. Also part of the equipment pile were a couple pairs of snow shoes and some skis.
Allyra stared at the skis doubtfully. “I’ve never skied before.”
Jason glanced up from strapping on his skis. “You’ll be fine, you have plenty of balance. Kick and glide, and get a good rhythm going.”
They strapped all the food and extra equipment onto the sled, which was then attached to a pair of straps, allowing one person to pull it behind them. Jason offered to pull it first to allow her some time to come to terms with the skis. And finally, they pulled the leather baldrics across their chests and slipped their twin swords into place, leaving the other weapons behind. The bulky layers of clothing meant that she couldn’t feel the straps of the leather baldrics close to her body, and it left her feeling strangely naked and vulnerable.
* * *
They spent the next eight hours skiing, but by the end of the day, they’d only covered around fifteen kilometers at best. It had taken her a couple of kilometers to get the hang of gliding on the skis. It had involved a couple of tumbles, including a particularly spectacular head over heels somersault, which left her on her back, staring at the sky in disbelief, and Jason trying to muffle his laughter.
Lunch had been no more than a ten-minute break as they tried to force down a couple of energy bars, doing their best not to crack their teeth against the frozen bars. Jason melted enough water for them to gulp some down and keep their thirst at bay. It was a strange feeling to be surrounded by so much water but to have so little of it available to drink. Throughout the day, the sun barely rose at all, just skirting along the horizon before disappearing again. They spent most of the day in the darkness, navigating by a single beam of the flashlight.
The going was difficult and treacherous, the snow was at times loose, making skiing difficult, and at other times slick and icy, giving way to sudden deep crevasses. After nearly disappearing down one, Allyra and Jason had taken to tying a rope between them so that one could act as an anchor should the other fall.
As the chill soaked deeply into her bones and she felt as if every muscle in her body was seizing into tight knots, they came to a stop by mutual agreement. Jason melted water and heated some food for them, while Allyra’s numb fingers fumbled to set up the tent. Later, Jason walked around the tent, placing wards all around them, ensuring they’d have ample warning should Xolani and François try to sneak up on them.
The windproof fabric of the tent managed to stop the worst of the wind’s rage, but Allyra maintained her grip over her Gift to ensure their tent didn’t get ripped away with them inside. She felt better after eating some warm food, but even then, she hesitated inside the tent, reluctant to remove her layers of clothing and subject herself to the bitter cold.
After dithering around for a few minutes, she eventually sat down and untied the laces on her boots, grimacing as she pulled them off. It was only the first day, and already her feet were sporting multiple blisters, rubbed raw from the unfamiliar movement of skiing. Next, she gritted her teeth and pulled off her bulky outer layers, leaving her in long-sleeved thermal underwear, which she imagined was not in the least flattering.
Jason was already tucked into the sleeping bag, and upon closer inspection, she realized that he’d zipped the two sleeping bags into one larger one. Allyra shot him a questioning look.
He let out a short bark of laughter. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not trying to seduce you. Simply put, we need to conserve heat, and this is the best way to do it.”
She acknowledged the truth of his words and climbed awkwardly into the sleeping bag. There wasn’t much room to move, and it felt far too intimate to face Jason, so she turned her back to him. After a moment’s hesitatio
n, he moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her, pressing her back into him. She was blanketed by his incredible heat, and for the first time since they were dropped into this icy hell, she started to thaw out.
As much as she’d imagined that it would be impossible to sleep in such proximity to Jason, the exertion required over the past day, combined with the sudden warmth, meant that sleep quickly crept over her.
As she slipped toward sleep, she whispered, “Do you think Xolani and François are also conserving heat?”
She felt Jason’s rumble of laughter against her back and his breath on the back of her neck. “I think they’ll do whatever they need to do to win this thing.”
* * *
They settled into a routine of sorts—waking up before the sun rose and eating a quick breakfast while still curled in their sleeping bag. Next came the tedious process of putting on all their layers of clothes, the entire exercise taking at least fifteen minutes. Finally, they’d stow the tent and sleeping bags onto the sled and start their trek for the day. On a good day, they’d cover twenty-five kilometers in nine hours of skiing. On a bad day, when crevasses dotted their route, they’d manage no more than ten kilometers. But good day or bad, they had to fight for every inch.
At the end of the day, Jason took on most of the chores in setting up camp. He became efficient in putting up the tent, warming up food and water, and putting up wards. Despite her protests, he’d refused her help, silently acknowledging that she took on most of the load while they traveled. Atmospherics weren’t considered real contenders—not in the Elemental Trials and certainly not in The Five Finals. But in the harsh Antarctic environment, her Gift was key to their survival. Her bubble kept out the worst of the wind and cold, and when they came across deep crevasses, she molded the Air to carry them across.
Most nights she felt too exhausted to eat, collapsing into the sleeping bag as soon as Jason put the tent up. But Jason always woke her up, forcing her to swallow down some calorie-laden food.