Page 20 of Fifth
“It is leverage,” he said. “You will feel it.”
She almost laughed, breathless and a little wild. “I have been feeling it.”
Below them the spikes surged upward on hidden tracks, wicked tips lifting until she swore they were kissing her calves. Aroar went up from the bettors above, voices chanting for blood, shouting odds on which of them would be skewered first. Terror clawed through her chest—one slip, one heartbeat too slow, and they would be nothing but meat for thepit.
His voice grew more demanding. “Now.”
She did what he told her. She drove her legs in and the physics changed. He rose. The last brace was old steel bolted into rock. He took it with both hands and held for the space of three hard breaths. Then he made a sound deep in his chest and threw them toward thelip.
They cleared it.
He caught the edge with one hand, then two, and hauled. Dirt broke loose and fell past their feet like dry rain. He turned himself into a lever and rolled them both onto solid ground an instant before spikes would have skeweredthem.
Above from the drone, the crowd erupted. Some cursed, furious at lost wagers. Others howled with disbelief that the pit had not claimed at least one of them. Men shouted over one another, demanding new odds, voices split between rage and reluctant awe. The sound poured down into the preserve, astorm of noise that made Hannah’s skin crawl. They had survived, and still the world jeered.
The sky above them stretched like a dark ribbon. Her vision blurred. For a moment she lay flat on her back with his body caging her. She couldn’t move. She wasn’t sure she wantedto.
Air dragged into her lungs in great, untidy pulls. She saw each inhale lift the dense muscle of his chest. His heart hammered against her, until gradually it became a heavy, steady drum against the underside of her palm. She realized her hand was still on him, splayed over his sternum, and that her fingers were spread wide as if she meant to claim his heat for herself and never give itback.
He didn’t move away. He braced on one forearm and lowered his head until his forehead touched hers. Not a kiss. Apress. Their breaths mingled. His exhale warmed herlips.
“Say it,” she whispered, not sure what she was askingfor.
“It is done,” he said. “We are out.”
Her throat closed on a sound she refused to let out. She nodded once and then the accusation broke through. “You knew we’d face that pit. You knew the spikes would come for us.”
“Affirmative.”
“You led us into it.”
“Affirmative.”
“That was insane.”
“Affirmative.” A faint breath of wry heat touched his mouth. “Insane is sometimes necessary.”
She should have shoved him away. She should have struck him. She surprised herself and lifted her other hand to the back of his neck, fingers brushing the tense muscles there, finding the raised ridges of strain and the slick heat of his skin where fear had once driven her nails. He shivered very slightly when she touched the marks. It wasn’t weakness. It was reaction.
“Don’t do that again,” she demanded. “Don’t decide for both of us.”
“I will decide when the decision keeps you alive.” His voice turned quiet and iron-strong. “You may argue later.”
“I’m arguing now.”
“Good. This is later.” He pushed up and away from her in a controlled surge and rose to a crouch. Open wounds streaked his back with blood and she shuddered. “And you are alive enough to fight me.”
She would have cursed him if her mouth weren’t so dry. “Oh, Locus. Your poor back. It needs to be cleaned and stitched.”
“Eventually,” he replied.
She rolled to her side, then up onto her knees, then onto her feet. Her legs shook at first and held the secondtime.
He stood beside her, an efficient, massive tower. He didn’t offer his hand. He didn’t need to. The line of his body said he would catch her if she fell. She hated that she liked it. She hated that she believedhim.
The path ahead opened like a throat. At its end, the gate waited.
It looked nothing like the abraded iron barrier she had expected. It was a heavy steel arch bolted into stone, eight feet high, its surface dark and faintly reflective, like oil spread across water. Aframe of hammered metal ringed it, carved with jagged symbols that might have been letters and might have been warnings.
