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Maybe it wasn’t Avriel I had to worry about. Maybe it was Draven himself and his stubborn determination to try to help everyone else.
I looked at the people closest to me–Odessa, Crescent, Javer. They were here because of Draven. Because he had made a deep impression on them–even on fucking Javer.
And because they thought he was fit to lead an empire. More than fit, uniquely qualified.
He could be a ruthless bastard. He was capable of lying, manipulation, and murder.
But he also inspired loyalty. He believed in protecting the weak. He could be generous and kind.
And he slept in my bed.
An idea began to tumble through my mind as I forced my eyes back on the scene below.
To my surprise, Lyrastra had reached the cliff first. She was nearing the top with Vespera close behind her.
Erion was just below them both. He had made it past the pools alone and was starting his ascent up the cliff face.
Avriel had been cornered by a pack of goblins on the opposite side of the cavern near the cliff base. He had both of his sabers out and was fighting with impressive skill, holding off creatures on each side.
Brasad had caught up to him. Now he called something harsh and mocking to Avriel, then skirted around the pack of goblins and began climbing the cliff.
Avriel’s face darkened in fury as he watched Brasad pass him by and begin his ascent.
Meanwhile Draven and Selwyn were passing through the last pool. The water in this one seemed shallow–deceptively so.
Draven had nearly crossed it when Selwyn let out a cry and sank forward suddenly. Ominous bubbles began to erupt from around him. Goblins rising to the surface.
Draven swerved back, reaching out a strong arm and grasping Selwyn by the hand, pulling him up and towards the edge of the pool just as goblins emerged from the waters around them.
The two men pushed themselves up and out, then stood back-to-back, dealing death blows to the monstrous creatures as they lurched and snarled around them.
Within a few moments, it was over. I took in Draven’s appearance. His leather armor was slashed to pieces along one arm. There were scratches and cuts on his face. But he was whole. Alive. Nowhere near as injured as Malkah had been.
Selwyn was limping. His fall in the pool must have twisted his leg. But he followed behind Draven closely as they approached the cliff and began to climb.
Avriel had freed himself from the pack. Now he ran towards the cliff and began to climb, quickly gaining on Brasad who was just above.
“Lyrastra’s up,” Crescent murmured from beside me.
The dark-haired woman stood at the top of the cliff, looking down at Vespera who was just below her. Vespera had withdrawn her talons and was climbing with her hands. Her long brown braid hung over her back.
My heart hammered. Would Lyrastra help her? Watch her reach the top? Or take the opportunity to eliminate another contestant?
To my relief, Lyrastra reached down and grabbed Vespera by the hand, helping her up the rest of the way. The two women stood looking down at the four men below. They had made it. Through one challenge at least.
“Good for her,” Crescent said, his tone somewhat admiring.
I couldn’t find it in myself to say anything so outrightly positive about Lyrastra. Not yet. But her behavior in this trial had certainly altered my impression of her a little.
“She’d be better than Avriel, that’s for sure,” Odessa said quietly. She met my gaze, looking awkward. “We all know the prince will prevail. But Lyrastra would be an...interesting...addition to his council. Should she survive.”
I nodded. “Interesting is a good word choice.”
The woman who claimed she wanted to kill me, on Draven’s council?
“Now what?” I stared at the two women at the top of the cliff. “They just... wait?”
Odessa shook her head. “They’ll be pulled out. Watch.”
