Page 56 of Creatures of Chaos

“Yeah,” he agrees, but doesn’t make a move to leave, so with an awkward wave I step away from him. I’m halfway down the hall when he calls after me. “Good luck tonight, Freckles.”

I look back over my shoulder, ready to offer him the same platitudes when he adds, “And remember to watch your back,” before shoving off the locker and taking off in the other direction.

A pit opens up in my stomach as I stare at his back until he rounds the corner and disappears from view. I can’t help but wonder if that was a warning to watch my back against him or the other competitors. Either way it’s advice I plan to heed.

Nineteen

The Chaos trackerleads us to a natural stone amphitheater nestled into the foothills of Jagged Mountain about forty minutes outside of Everton. It’s a popular spot in the summer to have outdoor concerts but is mostly abandoned the rest of the year. I’ve never been there before, but pictures of the structure and large jutting stones around the perimeter make the area look like a sunken stadium with tiered seating in a semi-circle around a flat rock stage.

Becks, Ensley, and I spill out of Becks’ truck and follow the crowd toward the stone structure ahead. There is only one way in, and we can’t see much until right before we pass through the noise-canceling barrier that knocks out our cell phones.

The music blares and lights flash off the rock face of the amphitheater, making the atmosphere just as chaotic as the last two Chaos trials. Becks moves closer to me, keeping a light hand on the small of my back as the three of us weave through the crowd, looking for a chill spot to wait out the start of the trial. We finally stop off to the side with our backs to the stone.

Becks stares at the large screens set up on the stage and sprinkled throughout the perimeter of the space with a frown onhis face. I want to say something to ease his concern, but what is there to say? I don’t have any idea what I’m walking into any more than he does.

I had a hard time sneaking out tonight because my parents stayed up later than usual, so we only arrived a handful of minutes before midnight. We don’t have to wait long until the trial starts. I’m not surprised when the music and lights cut, but I am surprised when the screens around the venue tell the Chaos competitors to follow the path out of the amphitheater. I don’t know what that means until Ensley points out the bioluminescent trail that’s visible now that the lights are doused.

“You’ve got this,” she says, and then gives me a quick hug.

Becks’ frown deepens when I look at him. I go to turn without saying anything, but he yanks me into his arms and gives me a hard hug.

“Give them hell,” he says into my ear before releasing me, and I nod, turning quickly before I lose my nerve.

I follow the other Chaos competitors up and out of the amphitheater and along the faint blue line guiding us. It looks like glow-in-the-dark paint of some sort, and it takes us on a trail that leads up the foothills and into a sparsely wooded area. The trees get denser the longer we climb. I catch Talon’s dark head in front of me, but for the most part I keep my head down and don’t talk to anyone as we go. I can’t help feeling like the other competitors are sizing me up the whole walk.

We travel for a solid fifteen minutes before the glowing line stops at a circle of torches and we all shuffle into the space and wait. As soon as the final competitor steps into the ring, mist starts to fill the area around the circle, making it hard to see beyond the torches. It doesn’t pass beyond the torch line though, making it obvious it’s not a natural mist, but magical in nature.

The mist and the torches that cast flickering lights around the space add an eerier touch to the already tense night. Iglance around to distract myself. It’s too soon in the season for the white-barked aspen trees to have leaves, so it’s easy to spot the blinking red lights of the cameras that are broadcasting the trial to the spectators back at the amphitheater in the branches above and around us. I also notice a large black box suspended between the trees in the middle of the circle.

There’s a light murmur in the air as some of the competitors converse with each other in hushed voices. There were over a hundred competitors who entered Chaos, sixty who battled in the cages, but there are only forty of us left now. I still don’t know everyone’s name, but the faces are all now familiar. Jules stands a ways off to my left, talking with a fae from our school. Titus, the white-haired fae who tried to warn me about Talon’s weakness in the last trial, stands off to the side, his gaze assessing as it runs over the space and our fellow competitors. I accidentally catch the eye of Kiaro, the snake shifter who I bested in the cage. He sticks out his forked tongue and licks his lower lip and blows me a kiss. My stomach rolls and I hope that whatever we are going to be forced to do, I can keep my distance from him.

I’m looking for Talon when the robed game master appears seemingly out of thin air right outside the ring of torches. The competitors on that side move out of the way, falling silent when he steps into the space.

“The third trial will be a battle not of strength or wit, but of will,” the game master announces, his voice carrying through the wooded clearing and over all the Chaos competitors.

That doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll take a battle of wills over magic any day. But the game master isn’t finished, and his next words make my blood run cold.

“Each one of you will be compelled to do three separate tasks. Your job will be to resist that compulsion by any meansnecessary. Only those who can resist the compulsion will move forward in the competition.”

Competitors shift uncomfortably, many of their gazes fearful. Even the vampires, who surely have an advantage during this trial, look displeased by this turn of events. Besides the obvious hesitation over having someone take away your autonomy, compulsion is illegal. Yes, it’s used occasionally, but only in very specific and pre-approved situations.

For years, centuries actually, vampires were shunned out of fear of their ability to compel creatures to do things against their will. In modern society, all creatures are integrated, but if anything still holds a stigma it’s vampire compulsion. It’s a serious crime for someone to be found guilty of compelling another, even if the deed seems harmless, so who could they have found to break the law so openly?

As soon as the question forms in my mind, a group of figures appear in the mist, covered from head to toe in black robes similar to the game master’s. And also like the game master their faces are fully concealed by both the hood of their robes and also magical means. They fan out around the perimeter, just outside the ring of torches, encircling the competitors.

Even though there’s no way to see Becks, I can almost feel his concern and anxiety reaching out to me from back at the amphitheater. Or maybe it’s just my imagination running away from me?

A nervous energy permeates the air. Nobody looks happy. Even Jules has the sense to look nervous. I search for Talon, finding him tucked into the shadows off to the side. His face is hard as stone and his body rigid. The way he’s glaring at the game master makes me think that nothing would please him more than to be able to attack the robed figure, but Talon doesn’t look nervous like the rest of us, he just looks pissed off.

As I watch him, Talon’s head turns toward me and our gazes lock. I’m used to a reassuring smirk or nod from him, but I don’t get that this time. Instead he just stares back at me, an empty look in his eyes that doesn’t do anything to help my nerves.

“The only exception during this trial is for the winner of the last, who earned an advantage.” Talon’s gaze shifts back toward the game master. “That competitor will only have to fight off two compulsions rather than three.”

Competitors around me start to grumble, disappointed that they hadn’t won the advantage for themselves, but they quiet down when the game master makes a motion and the black box suspended in the trees above opens, dumping its contents.

Horror sinks in when I see the weapons littering the middle of the circle. My dread only grows as I start cataloging the items: knives, hatchets, bows, guns, swords, nails, hammers, rope.

I squeeze my eyes shut, cutting off my view of the plethora of weapons.

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