by Lynette Noni
“Dix, I know you’re scared right now,” she said to her friend, her breath coming in pants from the strain of her position. “But I promised I wouldn’t let you fall, and that’s one promise I intend to keep. Do you hear me?” When D.C. didn’t respond, Alex prompted, “Dix? I swear to you that we’ll get through this—I need to know you believe me.”
It was tentative, but D.C. offered another nod, tears of terror continuing to fall silently down her cheeks.
“I need you to remember that,” Alex said. “Because I’m going to pull you up now and I need you to be strong enough to keep going. Just a few more feet and we’ll be safe. But I can’t do this on my own without your help.” Alex flicked a glance towards the pale-faced boys and finished, “No one can get past us—we need to get up over this rock so everyone else can, too. They’re relying on us, do you understand?”
It was a trembled breath of sound, but D.C. seemed more focused now as she whispered, “Okay.”
“Okay,” Alex whispered back. “Now, can you see that space about half a foot from where my hand is holding the rock? That’s where I’m going to pull you up to. I need you to be ready to grab onto it—can you do that?”
“I think so,” D.C. answered.
Pride welled deep within Alex, but all she said was, “Good. On three, then.” Willing her screaming muscles to cooperate for just a few seconds longer, Alex called, “One, two, three.”
And with a mighty heave that tore even more flesh from her fingers clawing the rock, she drew D.C. up until she was high enough to let go of Alex with her free hand and reach for the hold she’d been directed towards.
“Got it?” Alex grunted, still bearing half of D.C.’s weight even after she’d latched onto the rock.
“Yes!”
With her confirmation, Alex raised the wrist she was still gripping until it lined up with another handhold.
D.C. didn’t need further direction; she buried those fingers into the rock as well, and the relief of no longer bearing her weight almost sent Alex off the mountain.
“You good?” Alex panted.
“No,” D.C. panted back, sniffling even if her tears had ceased flowing. “But I’m secure. So let’s finish this.”
Alex didn’t need to be told twice. She was honestly amazed that she’d been able to pull D.C. back up, since months ago she’d been in a similar predicament holding the much lighter Pipsqueak during their SAS overnight trip, and she’d required Kaiden’s help to get the smaller girl across a ravine and to safety. But now… Alex sent a silent offering of gratitude for everything she’d gone through since then, all of which had strengthened her enough to save her best friend today.
Swinging and then pulling herself up one small move at a time—while also keeping a hawk-like watch on D.C.’s shaky progress—Alex finally drew herself up and over the top of the outcropping.
All she wanted to do was curl into a ball and rest her shattered body, but she refused to do so until her friends were all safely beside her. So, leaning over the edge, she reached down just as D.C. pulled herself upwards, grabbing her friend to help heave her onto the flat space above.
Instantly, D.C. burst into loud, sobbing tears, her arms wrapping tightly around Alex’s neck.
“Shhh,” Alex said, rubbing her friend’s back with shaking arms. “We made it. You’re safe now.”
Alex had intended to reach down and help the boys just as she’d done for D.C., but the princess was so distressed that Alex was unable to loosen her grip until Jordan pulled himself up, whereby he swapped positions with her, drawing his girlfriend close. Her crying only intensified as he whispered soothingly to her, D.C.’s shock taking hold as she processed what had nearly happened.
Shuffling back to the edge, Alex arrived just in time to assist Bear, who helped her with Kaiden and Declan until everyone was safe.
Alex couldn’t believe what they’d just done—what they’d survived. A strangled noise rose from the back of her throat, something halfway between a laugh and a sob.
Instantly, she found herself wrapped in Kaiden’s arms, the two of them trembling from a mixture of exhaustion, adrenaline, fear and relief.
“You scared the absolute crap out of me,” he whispered shakily into her ear.
“I scared the crap out of myself,” Alex whispered back, holding him just as close.
“I think that was enough to scare the crap out of all of us,” Bear said, and Alex withdrew from Kaiden only to launch herself into the warm embrace of her friend, who was shaking just as much as the rest of them. When he released her, he didn’t let her go completely, not until he inspected her bloodied hand and gently bandaged it with a spare roll of gauze he pulled from his pocket.
Having determined she wasn’t about to bleed to death, Bear stepped away, and thus began a round of hugging between everyone as shocked laughs and relieved tears were shared, each of them marvelling at what they’d overcome.
Thankfully, they weren’t the only ones who seemed to think they had conquered the mountain, because while the cliff face continued endlessly up from where they now stood, a bright flash of light whisked them off the overhanging rock and back to the golden stadium.
“We’re done?” D.C. whispered in disbelief.
Jordan let out a whoop and kissed her squarely on the mouth, heedless of them both being covered in dirt, sweat and grime. “Sure looks that way!”
Alex, however, remained uncertain. Because while they were indeed no longer on the mountain, the stadium where they now stood wasn’t an exact replica of the one they’d entered the Gate from. The lack of audience was what gave it away, the tiered seating completely empty.
Uneasy, Alex shared a glance with her friends as they too noticed the lack of Tia Aurans surrounding them.
“Do you think they got bored watching us nearly plummet to our deaths and decided to call it a day?” Declan asked.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Alex said. “I think we’re still inside the Gate.”
“So… we’re not done?” D.C. asked.
Alex shook her head—not in the negative, but because she didn’t know.
“Congratulations, humans, on successfully proving yourselves physically capable of overcoming the strength test.”
The empress’s words were amplified all around the stadium, but the woman was nowhere to be found, calling to them from outside whatever place they now stood.
“We’ve passed your test,” Bear called. “Now let us out of here.”
“You proved your physical capability,” Saefii’s echoing voice semi-repeated, “but not all strength is physical. You still have one final phase to complete before you pass the Saeron ess Vaedan.”
“This Gate of Strength is quickly becoming a pain in my ass,” Declan muttered.
Alex agreed with him. “What’s the final phase?” she called out.
“Strength of mind,” Saefii answered. “But for this, only one of you need be tested.”
Alex pulled a face and turned to her friends. “Well, obviously this one’s on me.”
“Strength of mind is kind of your gift,” Jordan said. “Pun intended.”
“How can you joke at a time like this?” D.C. hissed at him, clearly still on edge.
“Because that’s my gift,” he said with a wink. “Or if not a gift, definitely a talent.”
Despite his seemingly playful attitude, Alex could see a hint of darkness in his eyes. He of all people knew the strength of her mind—with that strength having freed him from Aven’s Claim.
“I’m not sure about this,” Kaiden said, a warning in his tone. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Such a statement from anyone else, and Alex might have waved aside their concern. As Jordan had said, strength of mind was her gift—or the power of her will, at least. Both of which were very similar. But Kaiden’s warning made her pause, since she knew one of his gifts was intuition, something he had adopted from his sister.
“Should we be worried?” she asked
him quietly, aware that Saefii—and every other Tia Auran they currently couldn’t see—was watching.
After a pause, Kaiden slowly answered, “I just feel like it could be a trick. Physical strength is one thing, but there are many different kinds of mental strength. We don’t know what this final phase might be testing.”
Alex bit her lip as she considered his words. “You’re right. But I still think I’m the best one for it. If only because I don’t think they’ll let anyone other than me do it.”
She didn’t need to repeat Saefii’s words from yesterday—as D.C. had reminded them earlier, they’d been warned that the tests were intended to challenge Alex specifically.
Understanding, but still concerned, Kaiden nodded his agreement and said, “Be careful.”
Alex tried for a light-hearted expression. “If it’s all in my head, how dangerous could it be?”
“You have decided?” Saefii cut in before Kaiden could answer, though his gaze spoke volumes.
“I’ll do it,” Alex called back, barely keeping from rolling her eyes since Saefii would have heard everything they’d said.
“Very well,” came the empress’s agreement. “To pass this phase, and therefore your entire test of strength, you need not do anything.”
Alex shared confused looks with her friends. “I don’t have to do… anything?”
“If you cannot handle the experience, you need only call out ‘stop’, and the test will conclude instantly,” Saefii said. “Do nothing, and you will pass. Say ‘stop’, and you will fail.”
“Seems simple enough,” Bear said from Alex’s side.
“Wish we’d been given that option on the mountain,” D.C. mumbled.
Alex agreed with both of them, but she also knew no one would have used the word, not if it meant they would have failed. Just like no matter what she was about to endure, nothing would make her use the safe word—not at the risk of her entire world.
“Do you understand the conditions, Alexandra Jennings?” Saefii asked.
“I do.”
“Then let the testing begin.”
There was no way to describe what happened next other than to say everything around Alex liquefied. The stadium, the clouds, the sky—everything in sight dripped like melting wax until there was nothing of their scenery left. Instead, their surroundings changed to somewhere much more familiar.
“No,” Alex gasped, spinning on the spot, knowing exactly where she was. And worse, having the feeling she knew exactly when she was.
Taking in her friends’ worried faces as they noticed her frantic movements and rapidly paling features, she heard their concerned questions like blurry background noise as her pulse began roaring in her ears. She couldn’t answer any of them; all she could do was wait, knowing what was about to happen and dreading it with all of her being.
This wasn’t a strength test that would challenge her will—it was one that would challenge every single part of her being.
“Are we on the top of Mount Paedris?”
Jordan’s question managed to pierce through the panicked fog of Alex’s mind, but she couldn’t offer confirmation. Because if she opened her mouth, she knew there was only one word that would come out—one word that would mean they would fail. So she kept her trembling lips pressed painfully tight, even when a flash of light and shadows delivered three others to the open space before where they all stood.
Soraya, Alex herself… and Niyx.
They were in a memory. Alex had known it the instant they’d arrived at the summit of the beautiful, snow-covered mountain. A memory drawn straight from her mind; one that would test her strength and draw upon everything within her if she was to withstand a live-action replay of the worst moment of her life.
“What the hell?” Jordan said, his voice still barely reaching Alex’s foggy ears. “That’s Aven’s best friend who escaped from prison and killed the king. Why are you with him, Alex?”
Alex didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond.
Shaking worse than she had at any stage while hanging off the rocky cliff, all she could do was watch from the sidelines as her memory-self desperately tried to stem the flow of Niyx’s blood, to no avail.
She watched as Soraya disappeared and reappeared with the laendra that she then smeared across Niyx’s chest and forced him to drink.
She watched as Niyx looked up at her with his knowing, apologetic eyes, fully aware of his fate even if she wasn’t willing to believe it.
She watched as he spoke to her in a rasping, pained voice, “Kitten, there’s nothing you can do.”
She watched as she adamantly tried to prove him wrong, unwilling to entertain the possibility that he was right.
She watched as his wounds failed to close, failed to heal.
She watched as he uttered the words that had destroyed her at the time, and again later when she’d read them in the letter he’d left behind for her: “I always knew I would die for you.”
And then she continued to watch as the rest of the scene played out until he reached up and cupped her face with his bloodied hand, whispering his final words.
“I’ll always be with you, kitten. For as long as there are stars in the sky.”
Through it all, Alex stood paralysed, unable to do anything but watch the memory play out. Inside, she was screaming over and over, STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP, but no words escaped her mouth. Her eyes stung with tears but she wouldn’t allow them to fall, knowing that if she did, they wouldn’t cease. She felt everything, and she felt nothing. And when the scene liquefied again, their mountain scenery melting, the last image burned into Alex’s mind was of her collapsed over Niyx’s dead body, covered in his silver blood, with Soraya howling her own lament into the sky.
Eight
The testing by the Gate of Strength was finally over.
Once Alex’s worst memory finished playing for all to see, she and her silent friends found themselves back in the golden stadium—the real one, this time—where they were met by thunderous applause and Saefii’s congratulations.
Alex barely heard anything that was said by the empress, all she knew was that they had passed the final phase of their first test. They’d passed because she hadn’t used the safe word; because she’d endured a nightmare just to prove her mental strength—strength she did not feel.
When Saefii finished speaking, Alex and her friends were flash-transported back to their rooms, and immediately the questions began.
Why were you with that Meyarin?
Don’t you know he killed King Astophe?
That was Aven’s most loyal follower, Alex! What were you doing with him?
Why were you so upset about his death?
… Why do you still look so upset?
Alex wasn’t able to answer any of their questions. Like a buzzing in her ears, she was barely able to comprehend what was being said.
“Alex?”
Her name. Just one word, but the way it was whispered, with such tenderness, such understanding, was enough for her to finally focus on the speaker.
Kaiden was watching her carefully—so very carefully. His eyes reflected her suffering, reminding her that he understood what she’d been through, what she was still going through.
Drawing a shuddering breath, Alex shook her head slightly, the smallest of movements, answering his non-verbal question of whether she was all right. She wasn’t. But he already knew that—out of everyone, he was the only one who comprehended the inner turmoil she was now reliving.
Ignoring everyone else who continued to demand answers, it took the very last of Alex’s strength to walk away and find refuge in the safety of her room, locking her door behind her. She just needed a moment to get her head together; a moment to contain her grief; a moment to summon the courage to continue onwards.
When Zaylin arrived with a bright flash, her surly presence was diverting enough to pull Alex from her painful memories, offering a strange kind of relief. Zaylin’s no-nonsense attitude was further appre
ciated when the helper proceeded to push Alex into the bathroom, all but throwing her into the tub while muttering under her breath about the “disgusting mess” that Alex was.
Scrubbing away the sweat and grime of her strenuous day, Alex didn’t allow her mind to wander. She’d been down that path before and already knew where it led. Right after Niyx’s death, she had been numb, uncaring about anything and everything. She couldn’t go there again—and she wouldn’t. Because Niyx himself had told her not to.
As if reading her mind, Zaylin pulled something from the folds of her black robe and held it out. Alex recognised it instantly as Niyx’s letter, which had been missing since she’d arrived in Vardaesia and awoken stripped of her own clothes.
Still in the tub full of bubbles, Alex was careful to dry her hands so as to not get the offering wet, given how precious it was. Only then did she reach for it.
With shaking fingers, Alex opened the letter and re-read it word for word, basking in the comfort it brought her, much like the first time she’d read it. One line in particular stood out, and she ran her fingers over the ink, mouthing the words.
… you need to get up and you need to keep fighting.
That was what she would do. What she was already doing. There were still five tests to go—she had no idea what she would face next, but face it she would. She’d made a promise standing over Niyx’s grave—that she wouldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain. And she had every intention of keeping that promise.
Looking up at Zaylin, Alex croaked out, “Thank you for saving this. Thank you for bringing it to me.”
The Tia Auran said nothing, unable to understand Alex’s words. But it didn’t matter—even if Zaylin had comprehended, she still wouldn’t have understood the depth of Alex’s gratitude.
Carefully laying the letter to the side, Alex pushed herself up from the warm, soapy water.