House of Dragons (Royal Houses #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,86
shoulder back into place. The crowd seemed to make a collective gag at the brutality. But Kerrigan knew Fordham’s military training, and she saw in his face basic battlefield healing.
She didn’t know when everything had changed. Between the first task, when she’d been hoping he’d win because of the vision, and now, when she was a ball of anxiety over the fact that he might lose. And he couldn’t lose. Not because of her visions, but because of him.
“Fordham, come on!” she screamed over the roar of the crowd. “Get moving!”
As if he’d heard her, he began to climb up the soaked platforms.
A bell rang out.
“Darrid,” Valia whispered.
“Bastard,” Kerrigan grumbled. “Cheating bastard.”
“It’s not technically against the rules.”
Kerrigan huffed and went back to watching Fordham. He was flagging. His breathing was unsteady. His hand kept going to his ribs, as if all this exertion was only exacerbating the issue. His shoulder couldn’t be feeling great either. Not to mention, neither of them had slept a wink last night unless unconscious was considered sleep. She couldn’t believe he’d made it this far.
Another bell.
“Noda.”
Kerrigan bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. That just left four competitors, and only two more could go through. She was so fixated on Fordham’s relentless climb up a swaying rope ladder that she didn’t notice anything was wrong until the crowd gasped.
She turned and saw a girl—Kamari—sail through the air and land with a splash into the water. Kerrigan winced. That was a long fall. It had to have hurt, and now, she was out.
A bell rang.
“Posana. Only one more spot.”
Kerrigan worried on her lip as Fordham and Valero shot to the top of the structure. Two platforms down from the top, they met. Each sized the other up. Fordham looked like a brutalized mess. Valero looked more the image of a prince in that moment. More water rained down on them as they each lunged for a way up.
Valero got ahold of a ladder just as water rained down upon them. He slipped, falling to the last rung as the rope shredded his hands. He cried out but managed to hang on. Fordham had gone for a single rope. Not many of the competitors had climbed up the ropes, but Fordham scaled it like he’d been rope climbing his entire life.
Valero noticed Fordham’s efficiency and hastened back up the ladder. Fordham hit the platform top first with Valero a second behind him. There was only one more platform to reach and only one way to get there. A black wall about ten feet high.
Each competitor had to run up the face of the slick surface. Most had used their magic to ease their way to the top. Fordham had no magic left.
Valero took a running leap for the edge, but before he could hold on to the edge, Fordham lashed out, grasping Valero by the ankle. He yanked viciously with a pull that dropped Valero to the platform. The whole thing shook with the force of it… and then began to move in a tight circle. Valero tried to get up, but Fordham hovered over him now.
A ripple of unease passed through the crowd. Kerrigan could see the ferocity in Fordham’s expression. His need to win this. And for a second, looking at the cunning evil in his face, she wondered if she had made the right choice. If he could flip to this in an instant, what could he do to her?
Everyone waited on bated breath for Fordham to end it. For him to kick Valero off the platform or put his foot through his face. To do something to earn the nightmares he’d elicited in those assembled.
But it was the fear on Valero’s face that snapped Fordham out of it. He took a step away from him, shook his head once, and then ran up the side of the wall with such ease that he might as well have been using magic.
Another bell rang.
“Fordham,” Valia hissed.
Valero collapsed backward and brought his hands to his face in miserable defeat. Fordham had broken him with a look—a terrifying, menacing look—but that was all it had taken.
The master of ceremonies exclaimed and cheered for the competitors who were going through to the final task as the platform slowly drifted toward the arena lake. They fit together like puzzle pieces with perfect notches until they were one solid piece. A walkway was pushed out, connecting the competitors to the arena floor.