she looks up at the ever-lightening sky. “We’re still alive, so we could re-form back into our bodies. He wasn’t, so my life-force magic couldn’t work on him. He’s gone.” She starts to cry. “He’s really gone.”
I want to cry with her, want nothing more than to sit my weary, aching body down on this snow and sob like a child as guilt racks me. But I can’t do that. We can’t do that, not yet. Not when we have to be inside the arena in ninety minutes.
“I’m sorry, but we have to go,” I tell Macy. “I can’t do this on my own. I need you to come with me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She dashes her hands across her cheeks to dry her tears. “Let’s go, let’s go.”
“I’m sorry, Macy.” Jaxon’s voice is low and hoarse with pain.
My cousin just nods. I mean, what else is there to actually say?
Eden and Flint wish us luck as we take off across the snow, stumbling a little under the weight of tiredness and injuries. But at least Macy’s right. Once we break through the forest of trees we landed in, the arena looms huge over the landscape.
I glance at Jaxon’s phone. We have eighty-five minutes to get inside. That doesn’t leave much time for us to rest once we get settled by the field, but it’s enough. That’s all that matters.
“Go straight through there,” Macy tells us, pointing to the closest entrance. “I’m going to find help, see if I can get Marise or someone to come out with me to try to help Flint. I’ll also grab some blood for Jaxon and get to the arena as soon as I possibly can.”
I don’t have the energy to answer her, so I just nod as I continue to trudge across the snow, Jaxon’s arm draped over my shoulders so I can support some of his weight. I’m tired, so tired, and every single bone in my body hurts.
I just want to sit down. I just want to go home. I just want to be anywhere but here.
“Hey,” Hudson says, and his voice is nearly as hoarse as Jaxon’s and mine. Then again, he did do a lot of shouting there in the cave. “You’ve got this. It’s just a little farther, and then you can sit for a few minutes and just breathe, right? You and Jaxon can get your second winds.”
“Pretty sure you mean our fourth winds,” I comment, but I take a deep breath and tell myself that he’s right. That we can do this. It’s only for a little while and then it’s over. I can do anything for a little while. Even pretend that I’m not racked with guilt over Xavier’s death.
But as we start down the final hill between the arena and us, Jaxon tells me, “We need to come up with a better plan for what we’re going to do in there.”
I glance his way. “I don’t know that we can. Yes, we planned on using a lot of the portals, but you’re probably not in good enough shape for it. The one I did during the game took a lot out of me.”
He nods. “You know, I hadn’t really talked to you about what I planned on doing in the Trial, but I was going to try to get it all the way down the field in one turn. Nuri held the comet for nearly five minutes. I figured I could do close to that, and then you wouldn’t have to worry—”
“My pretty little head?” I ask as shock and outrage rip through me.
“What?” he asks, looking confused.
“You don’t want me to have to worry my pretty little head about anything as strenuous as actually participating in the Trial that I called for?”
“Uh-oh,” Hudson says faintly in the back of my head, but I’m not paying attention to him right now.
“That’s not what I said.” Jaxon eyes me warily.
“Maybe not, but it’s what you meant, right? What did you think was going to happen in that arena, Jaxon? Did you think I was just going to sit back and let you do your thing while I just hung out and cheered? I mean, should I have brought pom-poms?”
“Hey! That’s my line!” Hudson complains, but there’s a little bit of glee in his voice when he says it.
“I didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it,” Jaxon says, and he sounds pissed for the first time.
“Okay, that’s fair.” I stop hobbling forward and just wait.