Our opponents’ lashes would be their greatest advantage in this fight. Our defenses were fine for a foot army, but the lashes gave every Knight an opportunity to overcome any obstacle we set up, if they were smart about it. But we were doing everything we could to control how and where they used them. Even if they climbed over the wall my mom had constructed, they could only attack one at a time. And my mother’s team would also be supported by anyone taking up position on the side of the hole, as we could use our lashes to lasso any enemies that came over the wall, and pull them into the empty void where the bridge once was.
The test designers had built the bridge about fifteen feet above a body of water, which meant tossing people off the bridge wouldn’t seriously hurt them—but would potentially throw them out of the match, seeing as they wouldn’t be able to climb back up very quickly without the use of their lashes, which wouldn’t work when they got wet. By the time their lashes dried out, the fighting would, hopefully, be finished, and we would be victorious.
Provided we got the defenses finished in time.
I decided to take a quick check under the bridge, just to make sure preparations there were going all right, and raced toward the edge, pulling a lash end from my sleeve as I went, spinning the weighted end, and tossing it onto a hand rail as I threw myself over it. It connected with a sharp tink just as gravity began to suck me down, and I leaned into the line, arcing toward the underside of the bridge and letting the line out as I swung closer to the bars, aiming for a gap between two poles of the dense forest that supported the bridge.
Excitement gripped me as the poles hurtled closer, and I lifted my legs and straightened my spine, making myself as flat as possible. Tucking my chin to my chest, I kept an eye on the bridge as it drew closer, confirming my angle, and then disconnected right before I slipped between the two beams. Nothing touched me as I slid between them, and then threw my reserve line up and away, hooking the flat underbelly of the bridge just short of the hole above. I activated the hand controls, drew myself up instead of swinging farther into the middle, and looked around. It took only seconds to spot the crude wall that now interrupted the smooth lines of the bridge.
Only two people were down here—Leo and Kellan—but they were working like a well-oiled machine as they swung a block into place, using their lashes and the gears in their suits to help them with the weight. Leo used his hand controls to draw himself closer to the block while maintaining the tension that kept it in place, and quickly began welding it to the ceiling, the torch casting sharp blue lights against the angles of his face.
I swung closer to Kellan, not wanting to distract him. “How’s it going?” I asked as soon as I was near enough that he could hear me.
Kellan glanced over at me briefly, and then returned his gaze to the block. “Good. How are we doing on time?”
I checked, winced, and then told him the truth. “Eight minutes. In five, I want you to stop what you’re doing and get in position. I’m going to send Frederick down to you. You okay with that?”
Scipio help me, I didn’t have time to ask questions—if we didn’t have a solid defense in place, we had a strong chance of losing the challenge—but I needed everyone to play nice, and that meant making Kellan feel included. Which meant asking.
“Make it Dylan,” he said, his focus on Leo and the hunk of metal he was holding in place. “She’s way better with lashes than Frederick is.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “You’ll signal if you see anyone coming?”
“Yeah, we got you down here,” he said. “Everything going okay up there?”
I hesitated and then nodded. We’d gotten a lot accomplished in the short time allotted, and it would have to be enough. “We should be fine. I guess I’ll send Frederick ahead so he can sound the alarm when he sees the enemy coming.”
Kellan chortled good-naturedly. “Sounds like the perfect place for him. Just let us know what’s going on up there and if you need us, all right?”
“I will,” I promised solemnly.
We were all in the same boat now, and if we failed to communicate and defend our position, we would be eliminated from the Tourney. That wasn’t an option—which meant moving forward.
I lashed to the other side of the bridge, moving through the support beams more carefully this time, and then climbed up and over the railing along the side, emerging in a small space just behind the statue of Rachel Pine, the woman who had rechristened the Security Department and transformed it into the Knights.
I slid along the narrow pathway around the dais she was standing on, and emerged through the gap between her and her father. I saw my mother moving another block into place—the final one, it seemed, given that the wall was looking more like a wall, and less like a series of individual blocks—and moved over to her, Min-Ha, and my father.
“How’s it going?” I asked as I drew within talking range.
My father pointedly ignored me as he bent down to start welding the block into place, but my mother did not, her concentration melting away into a smile. “It’s solid,” she said with an approving nod. “What do you need?”
“To figure out where everyone is going,” I replied with a smile, while internally cursing myself for wasting the breath and the precious seconds. “Actually, I was hoping you, Min-Ha, Dad, and Lieutenant Zale would take position at the first wall. I know it’s the front line, but you four are far more experienced with assaults like this.”
“Very wise,” Min-Ha said, wiping sweat from her face. “And correct. We are the most experienced in that regard, but only by virtue of having more years of training. Still, I would be honored to hold the line.”
I shot her a grateful smile, but my father harrumphed at us both as he continued welding. “We shouldn’t even be doing this,” he grumbled.
“And yet you are,” drawled a deep, familiar voice behind me, and I took a few steps to the side and turned to see Lieutenant Zale standing there, his hands clasped behind his back. “I was quite surprised to see you already hard at work, especially given that I hadn’t issued any orders.”
“Are you really that surprised?” I asked, unable to resist the urge. “You stood there arguing for twenty minutes!”
The gentle whoosh of the flamethrower shut off, and I saw my father swiveling around to gauge what Lieutenant Zale’s reaction would be. I was also curious, and turned my attention back to him, waiting to see how he would respond.
“Indeed,” he said, arching an eyebrow. “But those who have been in command for a while know that good decisions take time and careful planning—something that gets lost in a panicked rush to set things up. Still, your attempts at defense could’ve been worse, I suppose.”
My jaw tightened at his barb, and I bristled indignantly at the idea that I had panicked as opposed to planning well. I very much wanted to tell him where to shove it, but with all of the drones watching us, not to mention the clock running down, I couldn’t. So instead, I smiled so wide that my jaw began to ache from the effort.
“Yes, well, I appreciate the cooperation of your team,” I replied sweetly. “I really couldn’t have gotten this ‘panicked’ barricade together without them. Now, I’ll leave you to help them put the final touches in place—maybe even find a few places that need reinforcing—and make sure everyone else is ready.”
“Knight Elite Castell,” Zale said, his voice relaying his irritation. He drew in a breath—undoubtedly to chastise me further—but I turned away abruptly, not willing to let him use our remaining time arguing with me about who should be in charge.
“Bring your concerns up to my mother,” I called over my shoulder. “She’ll fill you in on my rush-job of a plan. In the meantime, I have work to do. And so do you.”
29
Thirty seconds later, Lieutenant Zale’s words were still burning in my ears—but the minutes were rapidly melting away, so I distracted myself by keeping busy. I fortified the barricades in the front of the hole, where the attack was most likely to
happen, and then got busy putting people into place. My parents and Min-Ha had agreed to hold the front line, and when Zale insisted on taking the lead on holding, I didn’t argue. He could rot at the bottom of the Tower for all I really cared. I knew my mother would make sure the wall was defended.
Dylan bucked at Kellan’s request that she fill the void underneath the bridge, but his teammates were on board with holding the line. Frederick readily agreed to scouting, much to my surprise, but I didn’t argue with him. Having some forewarning would help us prepare for the battle ahead, and it would give us a clue as to what strategy they were using.
The final few minutes were filled with small conversations about contingency plans should any defensive position get overwhelmed—namely to fall back to the position that Maddox, Leo, Dylan, and I were holding behind Maddox’s barricade, acting as the rally point for a final stand, should our front lines be overwhelmed.
When the clock hit thirty seconds, sweat began to form on the back of my neck and forehead as my stress levels rose. I quickly looked around, my eyes sliding across the bridge, to confirm that everyone was in place, and spotted my mother and her team standing with their backs to the wall they had built, batons already in hand. None of them looked particularly worried—they were experienced at these sorts of things by now—and I couldn’t help but feel a mild stab of jealousy at the confidence on their faces. I was a nervous wreck.
I shook it off and shifted my eyes down, looking to where I could make out the bottoms of Kellen’s shoes just below the lip of the hole, where he was dangling under the bridge. Sella and Norman were on either side of him, but I couldn’t see them due to the bridge between us. I knew they were there, though, having done a final check just moments ago. Their position was the weakest of all, as they only had three men to our eight, but I had assigned myself, Leo, Min-Ha, and my father to act as temporary re-enforcement should our opponents attempt to bring the bulk of their forces up from underneath us.
I didn’t think they would, but one could never be certain. If they did, however, all we had to do was get under the bridge to help, or even better, pull Kellan and his team back and then take the opposing team out as they came up.
I caught sight of Frederick making his way farther down the bridge, his legs and arms pumping as he raced up the curved surface, heading for the pinnacle of the arch so that he could see all the way to the other side.
The clock hit five seconds. I sucked in a deep, calming breath and began shaking out my arms, trying to burn off the excess energy the premature adrenaline surge had created. Beside me, Dylan shifted, and I could hear the creak of her uniform as she crossed her arms. I could tell she was still unhappy with how things had played out, and was itching for a chance to re-exert control during the actual battle.
She’d already tried once—when I’d asked her to back up Kellan and she’d refused, citing a dozen reasons why I needed her up here. I hadn’t argued with her then, and I wasn’t about to start now. I needed to demonstrate that I was calm and in control, so that if—or when—she tried to pry control from me, the Knights watching would call her motive into question. So I had merely heard her out, nodded, and said, “That works too,” before moving on to other things.
Now that time was slipping away, I used the remaining five seconds to deliver a last-minute (and what I hoped would be moderately reassuring) speech that would boost our morale, while keeping anyone from catching a case of the nerves. We were in the entrenched position, and even though the fight was about to start, we were forced to stay in place by the nature of the challenge. And sometimes the waiting was the worst part. Teams would get agitated and impatient, and often abandon their posts to try to figure out where the enemy team was coming from—ultimately costing their team the challenge as a result of their impatience. I needed everyone to do the opposite of that.
“Don’t panic when the clock hits zero,” I called out loudly, hoping Kellan and his team under the bridge could hear me. “It’s going to take them time to cross the bridge, and they’ll likely be trying to sneak past us somehow. Stay alert, keep a wary eye out, and don’t rush out to meet anyone. Just stay calm, and remember your training. No need for nobility, either. Knock them into the water as early and often as possible. And remember, if all else fails, just argue with them for as long as possible, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
I heard the bark of a laugh from under the bridge, and from the other side of the hole, I caught Min-Ha hiding a smile behind her hand. My mother didn’t bother to show Zale the same courtesy, and even added a rich chuckle that carried back over. I caught Dylan’s jaw tightening from the corner of my eye, but she remained silent, and I could feel her waiting, aching for a moment to prove me incompetent.
I wasn’t about to give it to her.
Then the clock hit zero, and my heartbeat increased slightly, becoming hard enough to feel it deep in my stomach. It was difficult to keep still—and more difficult not to expound upon my advice. Doing so would only make everyone more apprehensive, and if I gave license to my mouth, chances were I could dash the morale I had been trying to keep up.
My eyes were glued to Frederick’s form, which had stopped at the highest point. He was still for a long time—long enough for me to check my indicator twice to see how much time had passed. The first time revealed only fifteen seconds. The second showed forty-five. But there was still no signal from him.
“Kellan, do you see anything?” I shouted down the hole, leaning over the little wall.
“Nothing yet. No sign of them topside?” his voice called back, slightly diminished by distance.
“Not yet, but keep an eye out. They’re out there somewhere.” I spoke with more confidence than I felt, my mind already beginning to search for any other way they could approach us. “Scan the sides of the arenas. Maybe they’re trying to come in from the sides, bypassing the bridge completely.”
I took a few steps back as I spoke, my eyes already searching the curved walls of the arena. The lights from above made it difficult to see, though, and I had to use my hand to shadow my eyes.
“You know, they might not be coming at us just yet,” Dylan said casually. “For all you know, they’re still trying to plan out their attack. We could use this time to keep fortifying our defenses.”
I kept scanning the walls, ignoring her. I wasn’t about to get defensive with the drones on us, especially when there was a possibility I had missed an angle of attack while I was planning our defensive positions. If I had, I was about to be utterly humiliated, and getting defensive about it would only make me more of a joke. Instead, I turned my mind to what I could’ve possibly overlooked.
I had assumed the other team would come directly for us, but if they were clever, they might’ve come up with another way to get around and flank us. They couldn’t leave the arena, but anywhere inside of it was fair game—which meant lashing over using the outer walls was a possibility.
But there was no sign of movement on the left side. I even squinted up at the lights for a few minutes, wondering if they were on the ceiling, trying to get a drop on us from above. But there were no shadows cutting across it that I could make out.
Not to mention, climbing up the side, then across the top, and then back down the other side would be physically taxing. By the time they reached us, they would be tired, and that wouldn’t be to their advantage.
No, whatever they were planning had to be something they could execute quickly—and something that would leave them fresh for a fight. At least, that was the sort of plan I would’ve suggested if I were on their side. I had to assume that someone over there would’ve thought the same thing.
“I still don’t see anyone down here, Liana!” Kellan shouted, his voice barely reaching me.
“And Frederick still hasn’t signaled,” Leo reported.
“I’ve got nothing on this side,” Maddox added, lowering the hand she was using to shield her eyes. “But I have a big blind spot thanks to the statues.”
I froze as her words hit me, and then cursed myself for being an idiot and not thinking of it in the first place. It was right in front of my face! In front of all our faces.
“The statues!” I shouted, racing toward the closest one. I whirled my lash into my hand and cast it up high, aiming for the shoulder of Lionel Scipio. Once it hit, I pressed the controls in my hand, and the gyro began to pull the line in, yanking me off my feet. I leaned my weight into the line, throwing it off balance so that it swung wide around his side to his back, and then planted my second line on the back of the Founder’s head and yanked, landing lightly with my legs spread wide, braced on his granite shoulder blades.
I stared down the rows of statues, following the line of their backs, and sure enough, I saw crimson-clad figures swooping toward us using their lashes, already halfway across the bridge and drawing rapidly closer. My mind raced, and I retracted the line even farther, climbing up onto his shoulders so I could look down at our defense. The hole that we had created was presided over by two statues on either side, for a total of four. The remaining bridge length that we had left in order to support the massive weight of the statues ranged between five to eight feet by the hole, and the gap between the statues was at least the same, if not more—plenty of room for them to land and create a foothold that would neatly cut our forces in half. The statues would give them reliable cover, and they could quickly become entrenched, which would be bad for us. If they became entrenched right there, then we’d have to attack them, which gave them an advantage and ruined our defense.
We needed to get the statues out of there. Now.
“We need cutters on the statues, there and there!” I bellowed, pointing out the statues. “Cut them down, now! Give me two from the forward team, and two from the rear!”
The Girl Who Dared to Think 4: The Girl Who Dared to Rise Page 28