Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,78
close to her chest with one arm, Quinn entered the waters, letting the cold iciness wash over her skin, tightening her muscles as she moved. Lazarus shadowed the edge of the pool, a dark look crossing his face before he could slip into a mask of neutrality as she turned and dove under the water, careful to hold the stone up above her as she swam through the shallows until her feet found purchase on the underwater steps.
Water poured from her skin as she pulled herself out and climbed up to the top pool. A quick glance over her shoulder said nothing as Lazarus’ expression was locked down tight. Their eyes met for a brief moment as she took a breath and stepped onto the ledge of the upper spring. The iridescent water glowing so bright it almost hurt. Immediately, Quinn stiffened as heat assailed her. It was so sudden she nearly fumbled and dropped the stone, but her fingers closed around it at the last moment and pulled it back to her chest before it could sink into the churning waters.
Across the cavern, Lazarus’ face appeared as though it was carved from the same stone as the mountain while he waited for her to lower herself into water. Switching to holding the stone with two hands, Quinn lowered herself on the ledge and slipped into the clear blue as together—she and Lazarus—waited for the coming trial.
Quinn wasn’t quite sure how long she had been floating in the upper pool; stone resting on her lower abdomen, held by stiff fingers, waiting for it to start … when she realized that it already had. Ever since she’d entered the high spring, her skin had slowly begun to tingle and sting. Everywhere the water touched felt like the edges of knives were pricking at her flesh. It just took her this long to notice. She shifted, moving to the side, jerking and crying out when one of the knives sank into her lower spine.
The stone started to slowly change from a colorless clarity to an opaque void as the nearly translucent liquid turned a murky gray before deepening further to a true black. Quinn shook her head as another blade slid into her abdomen, and she doubled over so rapidly her head nearly went under as the dark water turned ravenous. She squirmed, gasping as the pain mounted. Her flesh felt as if it were being peeled away layer by layer as invisible magic siphoned from her, swirling around her body while she remained in the center.
Magic began leaking from her limbs, beyond what was being pulled. It drifted from her mind on its own accord. Fleeing from her with the same strength of a riptide. With each passing moment, Quinn’s body began to sag, and her breaths grew ragged. Aches cramped her sides as she used the last of her strength to remain standing. Despite the fire burning her, Quinn shivered as if cold. It was as if she had been drained of her blood, the very essence of life leeched away.
A bite of something sharp sliced open her insides and Quinn jerked one hand—the one that had inadvertently pressed against her last invisible wound—out of the water only to see that she hadn’t, in fact, been cut open. Her guts weren’t swirling in the inky shadows surrounding her, though the pain in her flesh told her otherwise.
She choked when it came again and again and again—attacking every part of her.
Quinn sank her nails into the edges of the stone, trying to keep it with her as the agony became too much. Her lips parted in a silent scream as fire licked up her spine and then curled around her throat. Eyes wide, Quinn met Lazarus’ indomitable gaze across the room. He stood on the very edge where she’d left him. Just a mere hairsbreadth from the actual water. He appeared, for all intents and purposes, as though he were merely waiting for her to stand up and get out. If it wasn’t for the flash of fire in his eyes, she would think he simply didn’t care.
Black dots filled her vision. She gasped, seeking air, but too weak to inhale with her lungs. Her limbs were weak … too weak. Quinn pressed her back against the rock to keep herself upright. She couldn’t sink, because she knew deep down she wouldn’t come back up if she did.
She was so close to the end, she could feel it. Taste it. But