Chapter 69

Katya paused, clinging to the face of the wall like a beetle. Those exact thoughts might have been careening through her brain. Katya was an incredible combination of intelligence and a quiet ruthlessness, an almost psychopathic detachment that I envied and respected. But it was tempered by that same curious oddness that I found so alluring. Her mouth, visible below the visor of her half helm, twitched with a smile. What did the smile mean? Was she satisfied that my predicament with my injured hand would deal with me as easily as she could with a sword? Was she conveying something personal to me? The smile flashed, and even in the maddeningly tense situation, my heart skipped slightly at that beautiful smile. Then she wordlessly ascended.

I gathered my breath. She was climbing away much faster than I could. I looked down. I was going too slowly. If anything, the light line was gaining on me. It was still several feet below me, but the gap was narrowing. I had no choice. I had to keep moving, despite the agony in my shoulder and wrist.

Each handhold was a battle. My left wrist felt like it was on fire, and every time I had to use it, a spike of pain shot up my arm. My right shoulder throbbed with a dull, burning ache where Lance’s BEAM had hit me. I had to grit my teeth and force myself to focus on the next handhold, the next foothold, pushing through the pain and fatigue.

The water cascading down the cliff face made everything more treacherous. The handholds were slippery, and several times my fingers slipped off a crag, causing my heart to lurch with fear. I could hear the faint cheers and gasps from the crowd below, but they were a distant echo, drowned out by the roar of the waterfall and the pounding of my own heartbeat in my ears.

I glanced down again. The light line was closer now, too close. Panic started to creep in. I couldn't let it catch me. I couldn't let all my efforts go to waste. I dug deep, using every ounce of strength and determination I had left. I had to make it to the next level. I couldn't fail now.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I reached the top of the level. I hauled myself over the ledge, collapsing onto the narrow floor. I was panting, my entire body screaming in pain. I looked down and saw the light line just a few feet below the ledge. I had made it with barely a minute to spare.

I looked up and my stomach fell. The wall above me was glassy smooth, an utterly impossible prospect, 30 feet of glossy perfection. What had I done wrong? Panic clawed at my lungs for a moment. The light line was coming, and there was absolutely no way up. I must have made some kind of terrible error. Then I calmed myself. Katya wasn't here; she had already progressed somehow. If she had found a way, then I could too.

A BEAM sizzled just in front of my nose, heat and light. I jerked back. Far, far above, I could see Lance perched at the apex of the tower. He had completed his ascent. Now he had nothing to focus on but destroying all those below him. He had taken the opposite strategy to me. I had hung back to allow the others to get clear of me so I wouldn’t have to compete with them, so I could flex attributes. I cursed my lack of ambition. Lance had chosen the more aggressive path, reached the top, and now was in a position to potentially defeat all comers. And he would have no more favored target than me.

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Another BEAM lanced at me, and I took a step along the ledge, my head turned to the side. The light could only be seconds away. As I stepped, I saw it. There was another corridor here, like the level with the ape fiends. A corridor led from this wall toward the center of the tower. That made sense. This wall was unclimbable, but the corridor probably connected the four walls of the level, and at least one of them had to be climbable.

I sidled along, another beam scoring the ledge at my feet. I rounded the corner and entered the corridor. What greeted me were giant jets of blue-white flames, firing at intervals. I counted the seconds in my head. The light line would reach my feet any second. I didn't have time to work out the pattern of the flames. What I did have was level 2 SHIELD.

I ran through the flames, my SHIELD wavering but holding, until I reached the opposite exterior wall. Agonizing frustration surged through me. The surface above this wall was glass as well. I ducked back, again braving jets of flame with SHIELD, turned left, and found that the ascent above me was another set of artificial footholds. My heart hammered. My wrist was so weak now. If I could climb that at all, I doubted I could go fast enough to stay ahead of the line. Even as I looked up, Lance’s head and shoulders appeared at the top of the tower. He had been hunting for me, and now BEAM lanced down. I stepped back into the corridor. This was now utterly impossible. The others might have a chance to climb quickly and nimbly enough to avoid Lance, but I was like a sloth, stuck to the side of the tower and barely moving. It was a near guarantee that Lance could destroy me.

Even as I stood there, the light line breached the top of the ledge and struck my feet. Mario's voice boomed out, "Tiberius has 10 seconds!"

My head felt light, and my heart hammered in my chest. This was a total trap. There was only one way up. That ascent was nearly more than I could handle if I'd had an entire leisurely morning to deal with. More than a hundred feet above me was my nemesis, the most powerful of us all, with a level 3 BEAM, and nothing to worry about except eliminating me from the competition before I could gain the attributes to defeat him. If I climbed, it was a certainty that I would be defeated, and the combination of BEAM and the long fall that would ensue would certainly mean grave injury and possibly even death. Would it be better to just stay here and let the timer run out than to die attempting the surely impossible?

Mario's voice boomed, "9 seconds."

I pressed my head against the steel lining of the inside of the corridor. It flexed under the pressure as I pressed my head against it, my mind heaving with frustration and defeat.

“8 seconds,” boomed around me. I leaned my head back and slammed my head into the wall, the wall bowing in and flexing back under the force of the blow. The end was coming, and the frustration was maddening. I felt like I was going to have a tantrum, like a child, shaming myself in front of thousands even as my time in the Choosing came to a close.

“7 seconds.”