Imprisoned Gods - G. Bailey Page 0,56
my head high and settling my gaze on them.
"I'd hoped you would say that," Storm says, a crooked smile spreading on his stupidly perfect face. “Well then,” he says, taking a step backward and making a sweeping gesture with his hand, “shall we?”
"Good luck," Jade shouts from behind me. I glance back and nod at her, moving my eyes to Killian, who doesn't look impressed, and finally to Seth, who is livid.
"Don't die," Seth offers before turning on his heel and walking back into the shadows of the cage. I guess that is something coming from him… even if it’s not much.
"You got this, my crazy tornado," Killian mutters, and I look back to see him smirking and shaking his head, crossing his arms.
“Come on,” Storm says, drawing my attention back to the front of the cage. He nods his head for me to follow him through the crowd, and I begin to move after him, amazed by the poise and grace with which he carries himself. The crowd parts like they are either scared or in awe of him, and I find myself wondering which one it is. There is a certain presence about him, a power in the way he moves. I imagine it must be what commoners feel like when they stand in front of royalty. I've never felt like this around anyone before, and I know it's not just the fact that I’m in prison that is freaking me out.
We come to a cavernous room with a precarious-looking wooden bridge that leads from the prison hallway to the front room. We passed through here to get to our cells, although at that point I was too panicked about being thrown in prison to really register just how high up we were. Now, though… I make the mistake of looking down as we approach the end of the bridge, and see an enormous gaping pit expanding below me in all directions. What the hell was this even for, originally? I wonder, but then the answer comes to me: it was probably designed as another way of keeping the prisoners from escaping. I have to give them points for creativity, even if I’m damn near pissing myself at the idea of walking across it again. For a moment I think back to the incident with Peyton and the motorcycle, which feels like it happened years ago, even though it was really only the other day. I had thought hanging off that cliff was bad. I had no idea what was coming.
Storm walks wordlessly onto the wooden planks, not seeming to be bothered in the slightest by the fact that he’s on a rickety bridge over a giant hole. Maybe it’s more stable than it looks… or maybe he’s just out of his mind. Actually, that second option seems like more of a possibility. I take a shaky breath to steady myself before I step onto the bridge, watching as Storm stops directly in the middle of it and turns back around to face me. The bridge creaks and moves slightly, even though there is no wind in here, and I feel a cold trickle of sweat run down the back of my neck as I inch forward. God, I hate heights. Whatever task he has planned for me, it’s not going to be fun - that much I know for sure. Storm waves a hand for me to come closer, and I balk, even though it's not like I have much choice. Moving carefully, the bridge swaying precariously underfoot, I come to a stop at his side, following his gaze into the darkness below.
"The test is down there,” he explains, looking almost smug at the fact that he’s getting to explain this to me. If he weren’t so damn good-looking, I’d be half-tempted to shove him off and into the pit. “You need to jump, survive and find a purple glowing gemstone. It will be about the size of your hand," he tells me as he rubs his chin. "Consider this a favour from your new friend.”
“A favour?” I ask incredulously, staring at him like he has two heads.
“Damn right,” Storm replies without missing a beat. “Usually, I just throw the new ones off the bridge."
"You have to be kidding me," I say, knowing my eyes are wide and my voice is unsteady. My fear of heights is on full display, and I’m suddenly desperate to put off this test as long as I can, if only for