She was only one of five still left treading water; the other five had dropped out but were still shivering in the water, holding on to the edge of the trench. Also left in the competition were the Fifths, François and Xolani, as well as Jason, though his arrogant smirk had disappeared, and there was a definite bluish tinge to his lips.
“There goes number six.” Master Akerman announced triumphantly, though Allyra didn’t bother trying to see who it was. She needed every shred of concentration that she could muster just to keep her head literally above water.
A few rocks later and they were down to three. Annoyingly, Jason was still treading water comfortably opposite her. He definitely had less rocks in his basket, but that fact failed to give her any comfort. The next rock dropped in her basket would surely be the end of her. The straps were digging painfully into her shoulders, the basket of rocks already threatening to pull her under.
Master Akerman moved toward her, and she kicked her legs harder, dredging up any spare trickle of energy she had left. Jason watched her and Allyra wished desperately that she could wipe the triumphant smirk off his face—he was obviously anticipating winning this round of their little competition.
Master Akerman dropped the rock, and it splashed into the water, showering her with a spray of fine, icy droplets an instant before dragging her under. As her head dipped below the surface, she felt the shock of the freezing water all over again and had to fight against the urge to gasp. She unstrapped the basket and allowed it to drop into the dark depths.
She was out, leaving only Jason and François still in it, a First and a Fifth. There was something almost wonderful about the symmetry of extremes. Both of them had a stubborn, mulish look on their faces, and Allyra prepared herself for a long wait before either of them gave in.
“Everyone out,” Master Akerman announced.
“But I haven’t won yet,” François protested with a sneer.
“There are no winners here today. You’re the worst bunch I’ve ever had the misfortune to train. Based on this performance, I find it hard to imagine anyone from the Elemental College winning. I have half a mind to just leave you lot to it,” Master Akerman said tiredly.
“I’ll say it one more time even though I very much doubt whether it’ll pierce your thick skulls,” he continued, holding up two fingers. “The Five Finals are won by a pair. Two people. Not one. This is not an individual competition. It will be won by a pair or not at all. That’s why there are no winners today, since there’s no team left standing, or floating, as it were.”
Master Akerman stared at them, all standing, shivering, and shaking like wet and bedraggled dogs before him. “Mr. Fan complained I wasn’t being fair. If any of you bunch of idiots had bothered to actually think about it, you’d have realized that I was actually being exceedingly fair. If you counted the number of rocks per pair rather than per person, you would’ve found that every pair was getting the same number of rocks. If you had shared the burden, perhaps there would actually be a winning pair today. Instead, half of you chose to watch and do nothing as your partner was dragged under water.”
He shook his head as if convinced that there was no hope for any of them. “This is about teamwork,” he continued. “There’s no point surviving if your partner doesn’t. In the past, anyone who allowed their partner to die in The Five Finals was thrown into the Between and left there for a week, to survive, alone. With nothing but the Revenants to keep them company. Not many ever returned alive, and of the ones that did, few managed to keep an intact mind. In these softer times, we don’t open the Gates anymore, so you lot are spared that particular form of punishment. But believe me, allow your partner to die in The Five Finals and you’ll not enjoy the punishment. And should you survive it, you’ll still be considered the lowest of the low, barred from ever using your Gift again.”
He lowered his head and pressed his fingers into his eyes. “Now get out of my sight.”
Chapter 7 – Allyra
Afternoons were set aside for each pair to do as they wished. Most spent the time in combat training. There was no Master Akerman to shout insults at them, no audience, and certainly no help if Jason decided he wanted to kill her after all.
Sparring rooms were assigned to each pair. Large, square rooms, bare except for one wall filled with every weapon imaginable—thick, brutal swords, gracefully curved katanas, daggers, throwing knives, axes, spears, and others Allyra simply didn’t know the names of. A vaguely sour smell of sweat and blood clung to the air, the kind that no amount of cleaning would ever wash away. The floors and walls were lined in some kind of springy, spongy material, possibly in an attempt to limit the damage they could do to each other. It was a nice thought, but facing Jason down, Allyra was under no illusions. Jason had already proven that he was willing to play dirty and take any opportunity to hurt her.
Jason was already waiting for her. He was wearing a bored expression and a new shirt that he’d found somewhere to replace the ones that she’d shredded.
Allyra glanced the weapons wall. “So, what should we start with?”
Jason smirked. “It’s sweet you think I need a weapon to beat you.” He lifted his fist and an eyebrow in a silent challenge.
Allyra lifted her arms, turning the back of her forearms out for a more
