chest swelled with heat. With gritted teeth, he shoved his way to the ravine floor, scooping up two handfuls before darting toward the surface.
Fucking Flynn. He shook the moment from his mind; his satchel was full, which meant the challenge was over for him. The light of the outside world rippled through the water, but before his fingertips could graze its surface, a body swooped in from the darkness.
Kaleo.
He grabbed Tobias’s head and forced him down into the water. Thrashing wildly, Tobias fought against his force, digging his fingers into Kaleo’s grip. The water was a blur of flailing limbs and floating keys, and his panic became acute, unbearable. I need air.
Breaking free from Kaleo, Tobias shot above the water, sucking in a life-giving breath only to be pulled back beneath the surface. He yanked at Kaleo’s hands, failing to pry them apart, then slammed his fists into Kaleo’s chest, his gut, all fruitless assaults. The torture of his lungs ate at him, and soon he was slipping, succumbing to his deprivation while bathing in the glow of his handprint. I’m going to die because of this blessing.
Silence surrounded him, leaving him with blips of clarity: the hot pain in his chest, the weightlessness of his body, Kaleo’s groin in his face. His balls. Do it. They’re right there. He grabbed Kaleo’s nethers and squeezed.
Kaleo’s hands shot open, and Tobias burst above the surface, gasping for air. Throwing himself onto the hard stone, he coughed up the water from his ragged lungs, barely managing to stagger to his feet. Leila was out of her seat, her face drained of what little color it carried, and Kaleo sprang onto the floor, landing with a wet slap.
“Artist.” Kaleo flipped the wet hair from his eyes. “A bit handsy, are we? You know, if you’re going to touch me there, you should at least court me first.”
Tobias slammed his fist into Kaleo’s jaw, overtaken by rage. He tackled Kaleo to the floor, striking him in the nose, the eye, then dug his fingers into Kaleo’s throat, turning his skin from tan to red.
“Enough!” the Proctor barked.
Hands grabbed at Tobias, prying him off Kaleo and pulling him to his feet. “Not today.” Orion’s words barely registered as Tobias tore himself from both his and Flynn’s grasps. His insides swelled and seethed, then threatened to combust when Kaleo hopped to his feet, very much alive.
“Artist, you’re stronger than I recall last.” He chuckled. “I’m proud of you, really. They grow up so quickly—”
“Fuck you.”
“Silence.” The Proctor glared at the two men. “No more speaking. No more altercations.” He pointed to the ravine. “Now dive.”
“I’m not going back in there—”
“Dive. The challenge is nearly finished”—the Proctor nodded at Tobias’s satchel—“and it seems as though you’ve fallen behind.”
Tobias’s satchel hung limp on his shoulder—empty, and the hourglass had only a sliver of sand remaining. Cursing under his breath, he threw himself into the water.
Tobias catapulted himself toward the ravine floor, consumed with Kaleo’s grin, with the gripes of Caesar, Beau, and Flynn. Finally reaching the keys, he filled his satchel, all the while eyeing the surrounding waters. The challenge had become an afterthought, as the target on his back was now blatant. Real.
The blare of a horn ripped through the water. The challenge was over, and Tobias shoved the last of his keys into his satchel before kicking toward the surface. You’re free. He tried to take comfort in that, to remind himself he was alive, but that handprint still beamed from his chest, and suddenly free was the last thing he felt.
Muffled voices sounded above him, the surface in sight. Raphael swam into his guiding light, and Tobias followed, numbing himself to the world around him.
Until a Guardian tore from the darkness, snatching Raphael up in its jaws.
Blood swirled through the water. Raphael thrashed in the creature’s grasp, eyes clamped shut in agony, and Tobias bolted forward, his body aimed like a spear.
He plowed into the creature’s side, wrapping his arms around its slick body. Grabbing hold of the Guardian’s jaws, he fought to pry its mouth open, but its teeth refused to budge, wedged deep in Raphael’s flesh. Panic swept through him, and he frantically scanned the creature, searching for something to work with. Scales. Fins. Gills. He pounded his fist into the creature’s gills, again, harder, and finally the Guardian recoiled, opening its jaws and allowing Raphael to wriggle free.
Tobias swung his arm around Raphael and exploded above the water. The other men already