Page 48 of I Summon the Sea

He reaches for me with a strong, long-fingered hand covered in black whorls. “Come.”

“If any one of them can make it out alive, it’s you.”

He’s expected to win. To survive. He’s the King’s Sword. The king would be really upset if he lost his right-hand man. He’s probably up there right now, on his balcony, seated on furs and satin cushions, watching and issuing orders to everyone to make sure that his friend and dragon speaker comes to no harm.

“What did I say about keeping out of danger,” he now drawls, “and about me being too busy to keep saving you?”

Who is this man? How did I find myself at his mercy?

I huff as I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. My bare toes tense against the metal surface, barely gripping it. His gaze dips from my face to my chest, and I become suddenly aware of how my wet white dress clings to my body. The light corset hides anything of interest, but the wet lace molds to the shape of my breasts, and heat goes through me.

Such a male thing to do, staring at my breasts.

Such a presumptuous thing.

“You’re welcome for the saving, by the way.” His generous mouth curves into a smirk as I find my feet and pull my hand away. “Here?—”

I shove at him, and it’s like shoving at a rock wall.

His lips peel back, though I bet he barely felt anything. His dark eyes flare. “What was that for?”

Refusing to shake out my tingling hand, I point at the people. Then at the palace. Then at him. He’s part of the problem, a big part. A willing part. A part I’m here to fight against, and I hate that he has helped me.

His brows bunch together. His jaw clenches. “Be careful,” is all he says. “This trial isn’t over yet.”

Oh, I know.

I watch his face before he turns away, but I’m not sure I can read it. His expression has closed up like a book, the cover blank, giving away nothing.

Now isn’t the time to fight for justice. The only thing you need to fight for right now is to finish this game alive.

The platforms sway on the water, a good ten or so of them. The one tethered in the middle sports a forest.

A grove.

Rocks are piled around the trees. Soil runs down the sides of that platform, along with moss and trailing plants.

I blink, confused.

What is the purpose of that? The people scattered over the other, bare platforms also look perplexed. I make out about twelve of them after a quick count. Half the number of those thrown into the arena.

And this isn’t over yet.

In the middle of the trees, on that central platform, a structure rises. It’s symmetrical, four-sided, tapering into a point.

A tower?

Wait.Trees, rocks, buildings. I’m sensing a theme here.Earth, I think. Has to be. The element of the earth. The fae king’s journey. This is about the beginning, about the world he left behind. About his culture, the earth, the trees, and the rocks. About his origin.

Think. Think. What is the goal?

To reach the Palace Island.

How can you do that? Push one of these platforms over there? And what about this forest? What role does it have to play?

Even if I had my water magic, it wouldn’t help me here. I’m on equal footing with every other surviving contestant.

Four more people are standing on our platform. I keep a wary eye on them in case they decide to push us off, but they seem to be eager to join us.

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