Artemis

  Two soldiers stepped forward and dragged out a length of timber from a wagon, then another. They set the planks side by side and, without ceremony, shoved us onto them. Viola, Aeris, and Jarl were pushed onto the same board as me. The other board was set beside Jarl, holding the newest boy and the other two conscripted men.

  A lanky Earth Caster moved before us, placing his palms to the ground, and the ground answered. With a grinding sound like stone settling, the boards lifted with us on top of them, suspending our two groups across the pillars like crude bridges. We rose as high as the rooftops of the nearby homes. And high enough that a fall would not be soft.

  Rusk’s hand nodded toward the ground at the pillars’ feet. Another soldier stepped up and let his power trace along the low ground. The dirt darkened, then sank, spreading outward until a wide, circular pit of mud formed beneath us.

  Rusk smiled up toward us. “Stand,” he said. “And don’t move.”

  No one wasted time.

  From the edge of the square a man I hadn’t noticed stepped forward.

  The first blast hit one of the men on the other plank. Wind Casting came like a curtain of cold, sudden and blunt, tearing at cloaks and throwing grit into faces. The Wind didn’t blast straight up; it knifed in from the square, forcing us sideways toward the edge.

  One of the conscripted men staggered, boots scuffing, chin nearly to chest. He fought with every planted foot and shoulder, and for a breath the square held its breath with him. He righted himself, jaw working, and Rusk gave a short, satisfied nod.

  Then the Wind rolled down the line, a volley, coming and easing like a beast that tested its teeth. It struck Aeris first as a finger of pressure, nudging his stance, but he didn’t falter. It found Viola next, a heavier pull that made her knees tremble. I felt it on my side as if a hand had taken me by the ribs and tried to pry me loose. I braced, feet set, and slid a shoulder close to hers. Aeris’s fingers tightened on her hand and didn’t let go.

  The Caster sent it again, harder, short savage gusts that rose and fell along the line. Sometimes quick as a whip-crack, sometimes a long push that made the world smell of damp earth and dust. Each time it came, the force ramped and eased before striking the next man, a cruel cadence that left no time to breathe between blows.

  The Wind came hard enough to steal breath. I could have stopped it and pressed back with the same force. Or I could have focused and let the gale break harmlessly against me.

  But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not here. Not in front of them.

  So I let it take me like the rest, feet set deep, shoulders braced against the pull. Viola swayed between us, hair whipping across her face. Aeris caught her hand tighter, his arm a bar of iron. I matched his stance, keeping her upright through the push and recoil.

  The Wind died as abruptly as it came. My ears rang from the silence that followed. Dust clung to sweat on my skin, grit between my teeth. Down from us and on the other plank, one of the men bent double, coughing into his sleeve.

  Rusk clapped once. “Good,” he said, voice carrying across the square. “Now for the real test.”

  The lanky Caster who’d shaped the ground before us stepped closer. He flexed his fingers, and the earth at his feet began to stir again.

  “Balance is one thing,” Rusk said. “Reflexes, another.”

  The Caster lifted his arm, and a shard of rock snapped through the air. It struck the board near Aeris’s foot with the crack like a hammer blow, splinters flying. Aeris flinched, but otherwise didn’t fall.

  Another followed, faster this time. I felt the rush before I saw it. The air split, and I shifted my weight just enough for the rock to skim past my shoulder.

  Rusk’s grin widened.

  The next volley came quick. Jagged chunks hurled like slingshot stones. Most of them aimed directly at me. I moved with them, each one a test of timing. The rhythm built, and one piece slammed against the board’s edge, exploding in a spray of grit.

  Aeris turned just as another caught him in the ribs. He staggered, breath leaving him in a hiss, but stayed upright. Viola moved to help but then another struck her across the shoulder with a dull crack. She cried out, her body pitching sideways as her boots slid on the slick wood.

  Aeris caught her fist, his arm snapping around her waist. I grabbed her other hand before she could fall between us, the weight of her pull jerking my arm. Together we hauled her upright. Her breath came ragged through clenched teeth, pain tightening her face.

  The next round came harder, three stones in quick succession. One clipped my boot and another went spinning past my ear as I quickly tilted my head.

  Then a sound tore through the air that didn’t belong to any of us. A sharp gasp and a single shout that ended too soon.

  I turned in time to see motion blur past the edge of the other plank. The young boy, and the newest conscript, was gone. Then came the splash of him hitting the mud below, followed by the laughter of soldiers at the edge of the square.

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  Rusk didn’t even look at him. He kept his eyes directly on me. “One down,” he said flatly. “He’ll regret being the first to fall.”

  A man I’d only half-noticed stepped forward from the ring of soldiers. He held his hands out, fingers splayed, and the air around them sang like the space before a storm. I already knew what was to come next.

  The boy had tried to scramble to his feet in the mud when a bright blue-white light hit the surface. He froze, mouth opened as though trying to scream, but held back from doing so. His arms jerked once, but his whole body tightened, then went slack, muscles trembling beneath dirt.

  It finally stopped, and he cried out, the sound small and ragged above the soldier’s jeers. Mud flecked his face. His fingers dug into the wet earth as if to pull himself up, but the laugh in Rusk’s voice cut him.

  “Don’t,” Rusk said, flatly. “Stay where you fell.”

  Cold slid along my spine then as the realization hit. Those who fell below would continue to get hit with that same electrical current after each fall.

  If this is what they did to their own, I didn’t want to imagine what they’d do to someone like her.

  The next volley came and found Jarl.

  A heavy stone had hit the edge of our plank and shattered, spraying grit into our faces. The other hit him square across the thigh. He lurched, balance breaking, one boot sliding out from under him.

  “Jarl!” Viola’s voice cracked, high and raw. She reached for him, but Aeris was standing between them and caught her arm before she could move.

  His arms windmilled once before he caught himself on the edge of the board, breath tearing out between his teeth. The plank wobbled beneath us, and I shifted my weight to counter it.

  Jarl’s jaw locked with strain. Aeris held out his hand and brought him back onto his feet. His legs trembled from the hit, but he didn’t go down.

  Suddenly, orange light flashed towards the other plank. A fireball cut a perfect line through the air and found its mark at the far end. It struck one of the other men in the chest and the blast threw him backward in a burst of light and heat. His coat caught fire briefly as he tumbled before being extinguished as he hit the mud below.

  For a heartbeat, all was still. Then the pit erupted in a chorus of screams. The boy who had fallen earlier convulsed again but this time with another man beside him.

  The square filled with laughter.

  Rusk didn’t bother to hide his smile. “Two down,” he said, his tone light, almost conversational. “The mud’s getting crowded.”

  Then everything broke loose. Earth, Wind, and Fire came at once. Laughter rang below as the soldiers hurled their attacks like boys tossing rocks in a river.

  The first strike caught Aeris in the shoulder. He grunted but held firm, dragging his arm back to shield Viola as another blast of Wind slammed into them both. Jarl took a ball of flame across the neck and lost his grip, hands clawing at the slick plank before he slipped. A shout rose from the men below – and another from Viola – as she watched Jarl share their pain.

  A stone found Viola next, sending her reeling, but Aeris’s grip turned her fall into a stumble instead. His teeth were clenched, his whole frame shuddering with each impact.

  The man on the other plank had been battered by both Stone and Fire. One blast had scorched the sleeve clean off his arm while another split the skin along his temple. He staggered but refused to fall. Every strike found him slower, yet still he fought gravity with sheer will, half-bent and trembling, but upright.

  A moment passed where the square almost seemed to settle. Then Rusk’s voice cut through it, casual as ever.

  “Troy.”

  A man stepped forward, and as he did, every soldier there, even Rusk, turned their head away at once.

  My gut tightened. “Cover your eyes!” I barked.

  Viola flinched at the sound and threw up her arm. The other man did the same. I turned away and shut my eyes.

  Even behind my lids, Light burst from below – not the kind that burned like Ardor, but close enough to mistake the two. A searing flash that turned the air white.

  A cry followed. I turned in time to see Aeris clutching his face. Then came the storm of stones, tearing up the planks again. Half-blind, he took the hits in silence until one finally broke his balance.

  Viola shouted his name, but her voice was lost in the ringing that followed.

  Laughter broke from the soldiers like applause.

  Rusk didn’t smile this time. It had been his trump card all along, his plan to knock us all down in one go.

  Below, Aeris writhed, mud streaked across his face, still clutching at eyes that would see nothing for a while.

  Only Viola, the other man, and I remained. It wasn’t going to stop. Not until one of us was left standing.

  Viola stood beside me, shaking, her breath coming in ragged bursts. Welts already streaked collar and jaw where she’d been hit, blood rising beneath the skin. The man on the far board swayed like a reed in wind, blood running down his arm.

  I knew what would come next. Another round, harder than the last.

  The Fire Caster took aim, a flicker of orange light dancing in his palm. The crowd of soldiers leaned in, ready for their next strike.

  I drew a slow breath.

  When the Fire Caster loosed his blast, I let my own power slip through, hidden beneath the noise. A whisper of Wind shaped and loosed as I moved to grab Viola, pretending to shield her from an attack.

  The gust left me in silence, masked beneath the roar of the flame. It slipped sidelong toward the other conscript standing on the plank. The wounded man flinched as it caught his shoulder, pushing him half a step sideways, and just enough to put him in the path of the Fire Caster’s shot.

  The blast struck an instant later. It hit him across the shoulder, a burst of orange and heat that lit the boards and sent him tumbling from sight. He hit the mud below with a dull, final thud.

  The wet ground flashed once, the conscripts below jerking as the current passed through them. The soldiers roared with laughter, none of them realizing what had really happened.

  Rusk’s grin widened. “And then there were two.”

  Viola glanced over, eyes wide, reflecting the firelight below. There was no defiance left in them now, only the raw, trembling fear of someone who’d run out of strength.

  Another rock came flying from below. I stepped in front of her as it struck me square in the side, hard enough to steal breath. I barely kept my footing. She reached for my arm, voice breaking.

  “Sam–”

  I turned my head just enough to meet her eyes.

  “It’s alright,” I said quietly.

  I hadn’t done this in years, thrown myself between someone and the world. Celeste had changed that. Somewhere between her stubbornness and her quiet faith that I was worth trusting, she’d made me remember what it felt like to care.

  I used to think that part of me was gone for good, buried with the things I’d lost. But she’d pulled it back without even meaning to.

  And now, looking at Viola, I knew I couldn’t let it die again.

  The light below brightened again, the promise of one last strike.

  I stepped forward, one arm still around her.

  Celeste had once pulled me out of the dark. This time, I’d make sure someone else stayed in the light.

  The blast came.

  And I let it take me.