Chapter 103

Zara darted across the field, her legs a blur as she dodged the beams that Lance unleashed. Lauren, racing after her couldn't seem to gain ground. Lance cursed under his breath, his frustration palpable as Leona closed the distance to our base.

Meanwhile, Theo and Arthur finally changed course, abandoning the orb and moving directly toward our base, intent on cutting her off. My breath quickened, the pounding in my head fading into the background as I watched with bated breath. All my focus was on Zara. She was so close. So damned close.

She reached the base ahead of everyone, her form almost crashing into the receptacle orb in her desperation. The camera caught the moment she planted her axe blade into its surface, her body glowing as the light pulsed around her. She was disgorging the Flows into the receptacle. Relief swelled in my chest. There was no sign of Lauren anywhere near her. For a brief, miraculous moment, I thought we might have done it.

But then—horror. Theo and Arthur burst into view, charging toward her. I couldn’t even blink before Theo’s axe flashed with deadly kinetic energy, a blur of glowing power arcing toward Zara. The impact hit her with a sickening force, sending her flying backward, her body crashing into the ground like a ragdoll.

My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the roars of the crowd. I looked around, frantic, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. Figures were coming into focus now, blurry forms sharpening as my vision adjusted. One stood sagging, an arm raised as if in victory. A second sat on the ground, nursing a wound, their head lowered. They stood near me, their presence unfamiliar, but ominous.

Beyond them, four more figures loomed on the edge of the field, basking in the crowd's adulation. Three had their arms raised, gesturing in triumph. The fourth stood with arms folded, silent, but their gaze was fixed on me. Watching. Waiting.

My mind raced. Had Zara had enough time? Had she managed to transfer the Flows into the receptacle before Theo struck her down? I twisted my head, every movement sending sharp, resonating pain through my skull and neck, as I forced myself to turn toward our base.

My vision swam, nausea rising within me like a wave of sickness that pressed painfully against my chest. My head throbbed, a deep, paralyzing nausea that made me feel as though I would collapse right there on the field. But I kept going, forcing myself to look up, forcing myself to focus through the haze. Slowly, excruciatingly, the banners above the base came into view.

51

Zara had done it. She had managed to put four more Flows into the receptacle before Theo had put her down.

We’d made it.

I tried again to rise. I rolled over, my face back in the dirt, and got my elbows under me. The world spun worse than the first time, and I pressed into the dirt with my hands. I tried to push the world away from me, shoving the whole planet. The force of the action lifted me—the suit was still strong, it was my mind that was suffering. I felt my body lift up and away from the ground, but the storm of winds hit me again, my dizziness causing me to tremble, to struggle to know which way was up and which way was down. I swayed to one side, tried to correct and center myself over my arms, but the overcorrection tipped me past my balance point on the other side, and I collided once again with the planet I was trying to escape.

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My face in the dirt, my breath sending little vortexes of dust spinning away from me, I gathered my strength to rise again. We had done it. I wanted to join them. It was just me and Lance left now, and I could take him—it wouldn't even be hard.

I needed to go to them. I knew they had won a Flow for each of their houses, I knew that had been their driving motivation, but the swell of happiness and gratitude and relief that surged in me propelled me to join them. Then a hand was on my back, holding me there. I rolled over, vulnerable and weak, and looked up into Olaf's face. He had taken his helmet off, discarded it somewhere. His broad face looked down at me, and I couldn't read his expression.

He said, "You better stay there."

I said, "I want—"

He said, "You're concussed, your brain might be bleeding. You stay right there until the medics get over here and check you out. This won't have done any good if you die and Lance gets the suit by default."

I coughed a little, could feel my cheeks were wet. Olaf's eyes were glassy too. He fixed me with his stare and said, "I didn't do it for you."

I said, "I know."

I tried to raise myself again, but again his hand pushed me back. He said, "Hey, for now at least, I'm your Shield. A Shield protects the Sword, so I'm gonna save you from yourself and keep you right where you are."

There was a moment between us. He hated me—I’d humiliated him, cheated him even, when I knocked him out of the tournament. But we'd been through something just now. We’d won something for each of us by working together. After a moment, he turned his eyes from me and said, "Thank you. That Flow is going to mean a lot to us."

I said, "Thank you, Olaf. I meant what I said before, if I didn't know they'd underestimate you, I'd have taken you with my first pick. You'd have made a great Shield."

Olaf looked bitter. I could see the longing. Could it be that he was one of those, like me, who craved the suit, who wasn't sickened or unnerved by the inputs and "extra mental muscles"? Had I robbed him of that ecstasy?

Beyond him, I could see the priests moving among the contestants again, removing their suits. For almost all of them, it would be the last time they would ever wear a suit, but for most of them, this seemed a relief. I could see the four members of the other victorious team standing in a cluster, three of them ecstatic with their prize. But as the suit melted from Lance, I could see the darkness of his expression. He was staring at me with a dark, raw hatred. He knew he couldn't compete with me. This had been his last chance; today, with the help of Gideon, he could have beaten me. Our next contest would be just me and him, and he knew it was over. I could feel his hatred spearing across the distance between us.

I can't say it didn't unnerve me, but I also can't say that it didn't thrill me. At last, I would have a chance to humiliate him, to put him in his place. Mario stepped up to us, his attendant going to Gideon. As the suit melted from Gideon, I could see his expression. It was utter despondency, like the greatest drug in the world had been given to him to sample, and now it was being taken away forever. I felt a pang of guilt; I had done that to him.

Mario leaned over me, silent for a change, not making eye contact. He reached out to remove the suit from me, and I had a realization. This would be the last time that anyone would ever take the suit from me. After today, I would win the Sword suit, become a Griidlord, and then nobody would ever take my suit away from me again.

At the edge of the arena I saw Leona being taken away by armed guards, flanked by dark eyed priests.