Page 55 of Reign of Betrayal

“Reign, get the fuck back on the rock,” Elm growls, but I ignore him, trying to pull her body back.

“It will kill her, Elm,” I shout over my shoulder. I cannot standby and wait for another contestant to die. I wasn’t the only one who survived the Hollows. Contestants or not, if I can save her, I need to try.

Elm jumps down and helps me bring her to the rock, but we can’t get her up on it. Blood pours from the jagged stump where her arm used to be. Her severed limb lies only a few paces away, the sand around it soaked with blood and a trail leading right for us.

Elm tears his tunic and ties it tightly above her wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

The sand shifts again. Pincers breach the surface, hungry for more of us.

“Elm!” I yell.

He spins, dagger in hand. I draw mine as well, ready. Elm circles to the creature’s right, forcing it to focus on him and him alone. When it lunges at Elm, I swing my long blade and remove its tail in one clean swipe while Elm stabs it in its back. The thing screeches an unearthly screech, then falls over to its side, bleeding out black putrid smelling blood.

We rush back to Zahara who is now an unnatural shade of gray.

“Zahara, I have to burn the end of your arm,” I tell her. Her wide, frightened eyes lock onto mine. “You need to trust me, or you will bleed out.”

The golden-haired girl seems stunned, her mouth opening and closing as if words won’t come. I wait, knowing we’re short on time, but Zahara gives a small, shaky nod. She knows it’s her only chance at survival.

“You can’t be serious right now.” Jake’s voice crackles with disbelief.

“We have no other choice, unless you have a better idea?” Elm asks with a huff. When Jake remains silent, Elm exhales sharply. “Thought so.” He moves behind Zahara pulling her against his chest to steady her for me.

I lift her wounded arm, my stomach lurching at the sight—exposed bone, torn muscle, and skin hanging in shreds. I don’t know if I can do this. The thought hits me with a wave of nausea and I double over, retching but nothing comes.

Elm reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently, a show of support. When I dare a glance at him, he braids his fingers and kisses them. I give him a curt nod, swallowing my panic and steadying myself. I’m the only one who can do this.

Drawing on my power, I conjure a small, flickering flame at my fingertip. Elm tightens his hold on Zahara as I bring the fire to the jagged edges of her arm. She thrashes against it, a scream ripping from her throat before she slips into unconsciousness.

Once the wound is sealed, I extinguish my flames.

“Great! You killed her, just like you killed everyone else,” Jake sneers, jumping down from the rock and stomping in my direction.

“She passed out Jake. Leave it!” Elm barks, teeth clenched.

The smell of blood and burning flesh clings to the air, my nausea ebbing in my gut, threatening to rise.

“We need to move,” Marshalla says, her voice calm but urgent. She drops down from the rock, her short black hair catching in the wind as she strides over to Zahara and kneels next to the other girl.

“I saw something in the distance,” she continues, pointing past the jagged stones. “It looked like a building—a small one.” Placing her hands to Zahara’s head, Marshella closes her eyes. Zahara stirs, blinking awake.

I look at her in confusion. “What is your magic?”

“I am a healer,” she answers with a tight smile. “I thought it might work on her mind since the pain is what knocked her out. I can be useful.”

Zahara grunts in discomfort, glancing down at her arm with rising panic. Elm helps her to feet, murmuring softly to calm her.

The rest of us gather our things and follow Marshalla, trusting her direction even though the building she saw isn’t visible from where we stand. With no other options, we move forward, blind but determined.

* * *

We walkfor half the day, the sun beating down on us while the wind continues to pelt grains of sand into our faces. My face feels slightly burnt and my mouth feels like cotton. I think my mouth is drier than the sand beneath my feet. I drained my waterskin hours ago, but all it did was leave my thirst clawing deeper.

Despite the bright blazing sun, it was still a cool, windy day. When we reach the structure Marshalla spotted, we can’t be sure if it is the catacombs. A small stone roof juts out from the sand, the remnants of a building partially buried beneath the dunes. I guess Kylo wasn’t kidding when he said it would beinthe sand.

“This has to be it, right?” Jake asks, glancing at another contestant who only shrugs.

Marshalla approaches the structure, running her fingers over the weathered stone. The entrance is visible, but sand blocks the way, filling the doorway completely.

---