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Avriel and Lyrastra had beaten me out.
Now where were they?
There was no sign of the gallery of spectators as there had been in the previous two challenges. I could not simply look up and see my friends like Draven had. I had no doubt we were being observed, but in this final round apparently the view went only one way.
I turned to my right. A wall stood before me, tall and imposing. Its surface was unlike anything I had encountered before. Smooth and unyielding, it looked almost transparent, shining with a lustrous quality like grains of sand on a beach.
Stepping forward, I touched the surface gingerly with my least injured fingertip. The wall was as smooth and glossy to the touch as it looked.
Lifting my head, I scanned upwards. It was high. At least seventy feet by my measure.
And there, above me, more than half-way up already, were Lyrastra and Avriel. They climbed on opposite sides of the wall, as far from one another as they could get.
Avriel seemed to be using some sort of substance on the bare palms of his hands and feet to adhere to the wall. He moved slowly, lifting first one hand and smacking it down again before cautiously lifting the next. I wondered if his hands and feet were adapted to climbing, perhaps bearing specialized pads that I had seen on small reptiles that allowed for powerful adhesion as they clung to surfaces.
His progress appeared slow but he seemed in no danger of falling.
Lyrastra's movements were slightly faster and even more impressive. Using serpentine agility, she slithered and coiled against the wall, her body impressively flexible. Undulating and maneuvering her muscles she slowly slid up the wall's burnished surface.
My heart sank like a stone as I watched them.
Frustration mingled with curiosity as I traced my fingers along the seamless facade, searching for any hidden recesses or grooves that could aid my ascent. But the wall remained unyielding, revealing no secrets or footholds to exploit.
Clearly some sort of natural abilities must be required.
I had none that were relevant. I couldn't exactly burn my way up the wall.
But with that thought I decided there was no harm in trying.
Stepping back, I lifted my hands, cringing as the reddened skin on my scorched fingers shifted with the movement. Bubbling blisters were already forming, their delicate surfaces pulsating with the trapped heat.
I clenched my jaw and ignoring the pain, forced flames forth.
The wall in front of me erupted with fire.
I saw Avriel shoot a brief curious glance downwards, then continue his climb. Evidently, I was too far behind to be of much concern.
The flames cleared. I inspected the wall. It was unscathed. My flames had absolutely no effect. Any hopes of burning grooves or hand-holds into its surface vanished. The wall was essentially fireproof. There were no hand-holds or any way to grip the wall's surface that I could see.
A throbbing sensation from my fingertips drew my attention. I looked down, flexing my hands gingerly.
They already hurt less, if that were possible.
Instead of seeing more blisters forming, the ones that had emerged seemed to already be shrinking.
I turned my hands over.
The ugly, painful rawness was dissipating. A healthy color was returning to my skin, as if the flesh were regrowing as quickly as it had been burned away.
As the pain slowly subsided, I felt a peculiar sensation in my fingertips. As if something were awakening inside the very bones.
Instinctively, I stepped up to the wall and placed both my hands along it with my fingertips extended.
And gasped in disbelief as claws snapped out.
The claws flashed with a natural sheen, formidable and thick. Their curved tips glinted with a razor-sharp edge.
I positioned my fingertips carefully against the smooth wall, then tried to dig in.
