The hope squeezing Elyria’s heart turned into a cold iron vise.
She hadn’t changed her mind.
“Katerina Ravenswing.”
Kit’s face was set with determination as she came to a stop before the Arbiter.
Elyria rushed to her side. “Kit, no,” she begged, pulling Kit’s arm to force her away from the Arbiter. To face Elyria instead. “Please.”
“I have to do this, Ellie.” She placed a gentle hand on top of Elyria’s, still gripping her forearm.
“You don’t.”
Kit’s eyes filled with a mix of emotions that Elyria didn’t understand. “I think he would be really happy that youtried so hard, you know. Perhaps even if I don’t come out on top in there, just knowing how hard you worked to save me will still bring him some peace.”
Elyria’s eyes burned.
“Don’t worry, though,” Kit added, scrunching her nose. “I still have absolutely every intention of winning.”
And with that, she wrenched her arm out of Elyria’s grasp and waved her hand. Gasps rang out from the surrounding spectators as a wall of ice cut across the room. It happened so fast, Elyria barely had time to step out of the way as the frozen barrier grew higher and higher, not stopping until it spanned the entire room, floor to ceiling. Completely cutting Elyria off from Kit and the Arbiter.
It was an extraordinary display of magic, and Elyria might have been proud of Kit if she wasn’t so thoroughly pissed off.
Elyria pounded on the ice, each blow a frigid sting against her naked palm. A shadow crossed behind the opaque barrier, and Elyria thought she could make out the outline of a hand being held against it.
“I’m sorry, Ellie,” Kit said, her voice muffled. “This is how it has to be.”
“Kit!” Elyria cried, beating her fist against the wall harder, but anything else she might have said was interrupted by the blistering cold suddenly traveling up her arm. With a jolt, she jumped back, cradling her frostbitten hand, powerless to do anything but watch as Kit’s shadow turned away.
“I am ready,” Kit said.
The Arbiter’s voice was still clear as a bell as it rang in Elyria’s mind. “Do you commit yourself to the Arcane Crucible, to pursuing the truths and challenges held within?”
A frustrated cry ripped from Elyria as Kit said, “I do.”
“Do you consent to be marked by the celestials, binding yourself to the Celestial Sanctum?”
“I do.”
“And do you do this, knowing that once you step through the Gate, you shall not return until the Crucible is complete and its prize claimed?”
There was a moment of hesitation, and despite the frosty barrier between them, Elyria felt Kit’s gaze find her through the ice.
“I do,” said Kit.
Elyria screamed in her throat.
And then she was gone.
The instant Kit stepped through the Gate, the wall melted away, drenching Elyria’s legs with ice-cold water as it puddled to the floor in a massive sheet. Still, she stood there. Stunned. Helpless.
The crowd of spectators had been steadily thinning as their respective champions entered the Sanctum. What few folks remained started to shuffle toward the exit. The show was over. The Crucible had begun.
Fourteen champions now fought for their lives in the Celestial Sanctum.
Feeling returned to Elyria’s numbed skin in a sudden rush, a thousand painful pinpricks fluttering up her arm at once. The shock caused her to bolt forward, her body uncontrolled as she stumbled directly into the Arbiter.
With a sneer, Elyria shoved the white-cloaked being away. She didn’t know what kind of celestial smiting might befall her for doing so, but she shoved, nonetheless. It was like pushing on air. Yet, when an ethereal, glowing hand emerged from the Arbiter’s oversized sleeve and grabbed Elyria’s arm, it was solid as steel.
