gestured toward the ceiling. “Those falling rocks up above. If you do decide to jump atop my back yet again, we’ll die together. Hard to enjoy revenge when you’re dead, yes?”
Silence. The end of the obstacle was in sight, but the journey seemed infinite with Kaleo in front of him.
“It must eat away at you, knowing I’m close enough to touch, yet you can’t lay a hand on me. You must be absolutely trembling with rage.”
Still Tobias said nothing, fighting to quell the burning within him—the rage Kaleo had so accurately described.
“I don’t blame you, Artist,” Kaleo continued. “I killed your friend. I hadn’t planned on it—it was an impulsive decision, really—but the opportunity presented itself, and I simply couldn’t fight the temptation. You understand, I’m sure.”
Keep walking. The Poet nearly stumbled ahead of them, and the ceiling rumbled in response, but Tobias was far more vexed by the man in front of him.
“Quiet, still?” Kaleo looked over his shoulder. “My brother—”
“We are not brothers,” Tobias hissed.
Kaleo winked. “It’s an expression. I certainly don’t mean it literally. But tell me, did you actually expect your friend to last? You had to have known he’d die, if not by my hand, then by someone else’s. And it would’ve been soon. I’d say he would’ve lasted, oh, I don’t know…” He stopped suddenly and looked far over his shoulder. “Drake, how long do you think that Benevolent fellow would’ve lasted had I not offed him when I did?”
Tobias glanced over his shoulder to find Drake glaring at him in silence.
Kaleo waved his wrist, continuing on. “Don’t mind Drake, he only speaks when he must. Anyhow, I’d have given him a week, and that’s being awfully generous.”
Reluctantly, Tobias followed. Pebbles rained down from the stirring ceiling—an afterthought, as he was consumed with Kaleo, his nonchalance, and the hatred the man roused within him.
“How’s that rage of yours now? Are you boiling yet? You know, it’s not healthy to carry so much anger in your heart. It’s the certain path to self-destruction.” Kaleo spun on his sandal and grinned the largest, toothiest grin Tobias had ever seen. “But if you do decide to self-destruct, please let me watch. I’d absolutely love the entertainment.”
Tobias kept still. Kaleo was goading him, and despite how much he resisted, his muscles flexed, piqued by the sheer sound of his voice.
The path ended a few steps ahead, and Kaleo bounded over the tiles, hopping to safety with the other men. Tobias reached the smooth floor soon after, and Kaleo was waiting for him.
“It seems we’re safe now.” Kaleo made his way toward Tobias until they stood nearly nose to nose. “What’s your move, Artist?”
Tension worked its way up Tobias’s body. Break him, but he would fail—worse than that, he would die. Kaleo didn’t move, his smile intact, and the sight of it sent Tobias’s fists trembling. He’s trying to provoke you. And it was working.
Tobias wove through the crowd, abandoning Kaleo where he stood. The others had gathered around them, but he paid no mind to their gawking, focused on calming his racing heart.
“You’re not going to kill me?” Kaleo said. “I’m a little disappointed.”
“The time will come.”
“Yes, I imagine it will. But I doubt it’ll end the way you’re hoping.”
Resting his hands on his hips, Kaleo stared back at the obstacle, watching as Drake trudged to safety. “Is that all of us? Well, that was rather anticlimactic.”
Drake stopped abruptly, glancing at the course he had just navigated—and at Lucian, the last man bounding from tile to tile. Without a word, the Dragon plucked a handful of pebbles from the floor and tossed them into the course, sending them rolling along the square tiles.
Boulders exploded from the ceiling, burying Lucian beneath a pile of rock.
Gasps sounded throughout the labyrinth. Tobias lurched forward, compelled to act, but it was already over.
A fourth competitor was dead.
A man with black hair fought his way to the front of the group—a Lord Tobias could barely place. The Prince? He glared at Drake, pointing at the pile of rubble. “We’re all alive because of him. You know that, right?”
Unfazed, Drake continued through the tunnel, knocking the Prince in the shoulder as he passed.
“Hey,” the Prince called out. “Dragon. I’m talking to you.”
Drake stopped and turned, and the Prince pointed at the pile of rock once again. “You stand here right now because of that man.” He spat at Drake’s feet.
Drake’s eyes panned down to the spray of saliva and then up to the Prince.