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Cherie went next and picked from the good table. Maggie eyed a pair of black gloves, a water bottle, some matches and a bandanna. She went to pick the gloves then selected the bandana instead. Tully went next and studied the items. She finally picked the gloves and Maggie was sure she heard collective sighs of relief. The gloves would serve her in this trial. She was sure Cherie skipped over them, so she’d have them to pick. Seer had himself a good woman.
“Alright ladies, follow me,” Spar muttered, heading towards the bayou.
Maggie placed the blindfold around her neck, feeling like she’d overlooked something obvious that made it a very bad choice.
Too late now.
****
“Why would she pick a blindfold?” Lesion asked from their hiding spot.
“I’m glad she did,” Spook said. “Hearing is her superpower.”
“The question is why did Ma Petite pick fucking ankle weights? Surely there was something better on that table.” Knowing her, she did it so Maggie had a better chance. Selfless to a fault. Always had been from the moment he’d met her. Sure, it was beautiful but only in a world where it didn’t cost life and limb. Which confirmed his skills test he had planned for her was exactly what she needed.
“How long do you think a woman can hang from a rope like that?” Lesion wondered.
“Less than a minute,” Bishop said. “Even if they know to lower an arm to allow blood flow back into the hand I doubt much more than a minute.”
“This will be quick,” Seer said, sounding glad.
“Very,” Bishop assured, ready to get to the skills test since it allowed him to be alone with his Petite. He was sure the other men were just as eager for the same.
They watched as Spar hung a sliding rope ladder and allowed each woman to climb it and grab hold of the test-rope stretching across the bayou. Soon they hung like four little dishrags while Spar waited nearby. “Keep a lookout for gators,” Bishop said, even though Juliette did that up in a tree across the bayou. “Can’t have too many eyes on that one.”
Forty seconds in, Lesion said, “There goes Tully.” Bishop looked in time to see the splash. “Sweet little tiny angel.”
Bishop chuckled at the dreamy glow in Lesion’s usual tactical tone.
Next to fall was Maggie, followed by Beth three seconds later. Cherie was impressively last five seconds later.
“Now for the endurance,” Spook said, crossing his arms with a fresh sigh of impatience.
“I feel you,” Bishop said, antsy. “With all my heart.”
They watched as the women latched their limbs to the rope at the opposite side of the bayou. “Let’s go,” Bishop said, heading to the area the ladies would end at. Halfway across the test-rope, his Petite’s laugh tinkled out.
“I feel like an overgrown inchworm.”
Maggie joined in the laughter while Cherie inquired what was funny.
Beth answered in more laughter and Tully joined in, seeming for the sheer need to.
“Everybody’s laughing,” Cherie muttered, perturbed as she inched her way.
“Ouch!” Beth cried.
“Would youhurry,” Maggie sputtered. “You’re in my way! How much farther? About twenty feet?”
“Uhhhh, yeah, something like that,” Beth huffed, back to grunting her way along.
“How are your weights?” Cherie asked Beth.
“Feeling like fifty pounds,” Beth grunted. “Are you using your bandana?”
“I wrapped it around my right hand. Tully, how are your gloves?”
“Too big!” she huffed. “God this is so hard! I don’t think I can make it.”
