Page 94 of Of Withering Dreams
The din of muffled ovations echoed through the cavernous space looming around us.
We’d entered the arena.
33
WINNOWING
Iflopped backward onto the glittering black sand—broken, glossy shards crunching beneath my leathers. To my right, the tributary sloshed past my boots, escaping through various hollows and crannies in the stone wall. Breaths flowed in and out of my damp, parted lips, soothing my aching lungs as I stared above.
An undulating bubble of glassy fluid curved over the arena, thousands of lantern orbs circling its edges and casting a fiery glow over its cyan tint. A giant, turbid image of my exhausted face and the others projected across its surface, our movements broadcasting for the horde’s entertainment.
I sat up, following its boundary as it bowed over the opposite side of the river, separating those in the arena from the audience perched on long steps cut into the obsidian.
The Elders were positioned in a circular partition at the front, frigid silver flashing over Melina’s eyes when they met mine. Her upper lip curled, baring her incisors. I smirked, dragging my eyes over her horridly beautiful face before looking away, snubbing her.
Gavrel, various guards, and Akridais stood along the dome’s edge. The thick slashes of his brows pressed together, his penetrating gaze twisting my guts. Pleading.
My throat bobbed as I swallowed, a stagnant chill pressing into me as I forced my eyes away from his.
I couldn’t find my sister. Part of me wished that meant she wasn’t here, but I knew better. My lips pressed inward, sucked between my teeth as I looked away—reeling in my focus.
Water dripped under the neckline of my tunic, my sodden plait sticking to my nape as I hoisted myself up. Absently, I licked my lips, tasting the salt as I studied the arena, beholding its ovate magnitude. Its oblong borders spanned the entirety of the training field above. My forehead crinkled in wonder, a warm breath slowly dragging over my bottom lip.
Directly across from the spectators, a barrier was carved along the Reverie Weald. It was shrouded in dense, gnarled roots that coiled through dark stone and compacted soil. Its sides wrapped around, the roots dwindling and receding into the solid rock of the cliff.
At the opposite end, a darkened archway cut into the wall, a gilded metal door blockading it. Flickering light danced along the ridges of its centered etching—a pair of spears in an X, crossing in front of a torch flame, its cinder fluttering off to the side.
I blinked; the golden sheen seemed out of place in this glassy pit of dark, chipped stones. Movement caught my eye. Sebille and the male Druik from her team stumbled from the stream. A few others scattered over the coliseum floor, their boots rasping against the splintered gravel.
As my opponents oriented themselves—recalling that only one of us could remain—the slide of metal rang through the space, hands gripping various weapons. Other than Rhaegar and Sebille, three other Draumrs remained.
The male beside Sebille flared in a burst of cobalt haze. Three other Druiks released their auras, one the color of wheatgrass, another buttery yellow, and the last violet. My brow rose at the purple hue swirling around the petite female. I’d never noticed her before. Although uncommon, Melina had mentioned that power could be blended, an inherited anomaly.
The corners of my mouth fell, remembering what Melina had done to me. I wasn’t an abnormality as I once thought. My gifts were rare, stemming from my Perilous Bogs heritage.
My mother had lied.
Kept our past secreted away.
Uprooted my identity before it ever got the chance to sprout.
My hand clenched around Morpheus’ dagger as a kaleidoscope of energy shimmered over me, humming in anticipation. Breena and Kaden positioned themselves on either side of me, their bodies glowing and weapons drawn. Rhaegar’s battle axe balanced in his palm, his rune’s light coating the blade as he stood beside Kaden.
The twelve of us inched toward the center, forming a circle as if we were the warped numbers of a clock. Wary eyes darted around, seeking signs of attack. A metallic creak sliced through the air, and everyone stilled.
Our images fizzled from the dome, its rippling surface no longer transmitting our performance.So everyone can see our annihilation in real time,I thought, teeth grinding.
The gold doors lurched open, scraping against the pebbled grit, hinges groaning. My heart plummeted at the gummy clicks flitting through the darkened passage.
Without warning, a colossal, bulbous mass lunged from the hollowed void, eight segmented legs crouching and then leaping onto the guard closest to the door in a dark blur. The man’s weapon was knocked from his hand as the beast pinned him to the ground, one wickedly pointed leg stabbing him through his thigh.
The crowd beyond the wavering dome audibly sucked in a collective breath. And then cheers and cries of distress became one.
A symphony of clacking spilled from the tunnel before three more cottage-sized creatures skittered out—slightly smaller than the first, which I suspected was their alpha. Metallic streaks shifted over their armored membranes as they passed through the doors. Their copious, rounded bodies had camouflaging abilities, gilded streaks wrapping around the dark hues. As they circled us, muted shades of gray, azure, and umber shifted over burnished black.
Chasm spiders.
“Fuck. I fucking hate spiders,” Kaden grumbled.
