The antibiotics.
I’m overwhelmed-with relief, gratitude … and so much more.
My hand cups his. “But you might-”
“You need them more than I do. Take them. Please.”
I hug him as tight as I’m able to with my trembling arms. “Thank you.”
Behind him, Ophelia stares at the now dark enclosure that houses her sister. “I’ll see you soon, Maddie. I promise.”
Her eyes find mine and cut right through me. “And no one’s going to stop me.”
thirty
After resting several hours at the next holding station, we resume the trek to our third Trial, plodding through the winding corridors of the Skein in near silence. The quiet is broken only by the occasional grunt that barely penetrates the white noise of our wheezing breaths, which lulls me to the brink of exhaustive sleep before the panic of failure jars me back to my senses.
Despite my fatigue, the burning in my eyes settles into a low simmer while the chill in my blood turns lukewarm. Could the medicine be working already? Or am I just so far gone that my body can’t feel anything anymore?
The only thing that still burns is my mind, bristling with images of Ophelia’s mother, swollen beyond recognition, and the stump of Mrs. Warrick’s neck, a broken fountain jetting streams of blood. Every so often the images shimmer like waves of heat baking the horizon, and it’s not Mrs. Juniper or Mrs. Warrick I see but Cole and Digory in their places.
My breath catches in my throat.
I look around at Digory trudging along beside me, followed by Cypress and Gideon, with Ophelia bringing up the rear. From their vacant eyes, cradled in dark circles, and the new creases burrowing into the corners of their thin and cracking lips, I have no doubt their brains are infested with similar thoughts.
A geyser of pain shoots up my leg on my next step. I lurch to the side. Digory is beside me in an instant, hooking my arm around his shoulder and holding me upright.
“Gotcha,” he says.
I pause for a moment, my hand gripping the back of my knee, riding out the pain like a receding wave. “I’ll be okay. Just took a bad step.”
He leans in close. “Don’t push yourself.”
Taking a deep breath, I straighten up, suddenly very conscious of how close our bodies are, how solid he feels against me, his breath hot and tingly against the hollow of my neck. A rush of energy surges through me, invigorating me more than any medicine ever could. A hot stream floods my face. For a panicked second I think I’m having a relapse, that the fever’s starting to rage again.
Then I pull away. “I’m fine. Really.”
He nods. “I’m here if you need me. Always.”
I’m trapped by his gaze. “Thanks.”
His eyes seem to want to say more, but I look away before they can drown me in their undertow.
Slowing my pace, I let everyone pass me.
Gideon and Cypress have fallen into step. At one point, her hand brushes against his and he clutches it, neither one looking at the other. Their steps synchronize as if their shared experiences have linked them in a tragic symbiosis, each feeding off the other’s pain like emotional scavengers.
“Look! Up ahead!” Digory’s shout shatters the quiet. “We’re here!”
Despite my weariness, I jog to catch up to the others.
Looming ahead is a stone wall about twenty feet high, extending in both directions as far as the eye can see. Embedded in its center is a thick iron gate with a large number emblazoned above it, flashing like a beating heart: III.
My pulse accelerates. My eyelids stretch so wide I can almost feel the skin tearing at the corners of my eyes. This is it. The Third Trial. Is this where the ironies of my nickname will finally catch up with me?
We crowd next to each other, Cypress on one side of me, Digory on the other, with Gideon and Ophelia next to him. This time I’m in no hurry to move away from Digory. Instead, I find myself leaning into him, trying to siphon his strength into my veins. What if I can’t pull through this time?
A burst of static.
Greetings, Recruits. Unlike with your previous Trial, the order in which you placed will have no bearing on this specific task.
At Slade’s words, Cypress’s shoulders slump. I understand exactly how she feels. She came in first in the labyrinth, and I was hoping my third-place finish would give me some kind of advantage for this Trial.
I glance at Digory, who’s nodding. At least he’ll get the chance to pull away from a low-ranking position. I breathe a little easier.
Understandably, Ophelia’s eyes spark, faint embers turning into a steady glow. Now she has the chance to overcome her last-place slump and ensure her sister makes it through this round.
But Gideon, who came in second and should be crushed at the news, remains unfazed, his eyes fixed ahead, the blinking numbers reflecting through his glasses onto unblinking eyes.
When the gate opens, you will all commence at the exact same moment. This particular Trial will test strength, endurance, and speed. Once the Trial is underway, you will be required to overcome several obstacles by working together as a deployment team, set down in enemy territory.
I survey my fellow Recruits. After a near-catatonic Gideon came in second place during that last Trial, I can’t afford to underestimate anybody. A false sense of confidence can turn out to be any of our undoing.
Be warned. Although you will need to cooperate to make it through the obstacles, in the end it will come down to a race to cross back into ally territory. The last one to arrive will be the one to participate in the Culling.
I try to swallow but my mouth’s dry.
Good luck, Recruits.
CLANG!
The gate rumbles open with a grinding of gears, and I bolt through it.
thirty-one
The first thing that surprises me as I dash through the gateway is the fact that we’re on a hill. High above, on the ceiling of this artificial landscape, there’s a circular opening-a patch of night sky in the form of hundreds of twinkling stars shining down upon the sloping field. After being entombed in the Skein for what seems like a lifetime, I’d lost track of whether it was morning or evening. The sight fills me with dread.
Another solid wall looms in the valley below, its smooth surface brushed with moonlight. The only pathway to it is a thin slice of terrain with a sheer drop into darkness on either side. It looks to be barely wide enough for six people to fit across standing elbow to elbow.
I sprint down the hill, jostling against the others as we reach the strip of narrow grass. They’re nothing but a blur in my peripheral vision. My breaths clog in my throat-it’s like the darkness is folding in on itself, suffocating me in a claustrophobic haze. Fueled by pure adrenaline, I pull ahead of them, needing to break free … to breathe …
SPROING!
A cylindrical object sprouts from the ground just to my left, startling me.
WHIRRR!
A gun turret swivels in my direction. I lose my footing and stumble, just as the weapon begins to fire.
RATATATATATAT!
Screams fill the air. I can’t tell whose.
“Everyone stay low to the ground!” Digory cries, somewhere to my right.
I roll farther down the slope as bullets whiz past my cheeks. One nicks the tip of my right ear. Digory crashes into me, smothering my body with his weight. All around us the sod explodes, spraying through the air like gritty rain.
“You hit?” Digory yells.
I squirm out from underneath him. “Just a nick.”
Ophelia rolls past us without a word.
SPROING!
Another turret juts through the earth in front of her and unleashes a volley of firepower. She flattens herself on the ground about ten feet from us.