Page 142 of Powerless

“I got you,” Jax grits out behind me. “I think.”

I reach out a hand and claw at the closest jagged rock, helping to get my feet beneath me. When I’m standing mostly upright on unsteady legs, Jax Blinks back in front of me, sweaty and panting. I’m sure I look no different, but I offer him a weak smile and hope he sees the gratitude in my gaze. This boy Blinked behind his opponent to save me from—

The thought vanishes from my head, along with any other rational one that might have been residing there. I whirl on Ace even as I cling to a rock, not trusting my shaking body.

His smile is cold. “Careful. I wouldn’t want my teammate to get hurt.”

“You,” I spit. I’m about to slide down the slope and strangle him with my bare hands—

“Don’t,” Jax says quietly. “Not yet.”

I hesitate, slowly returning my eyes to his dark ones. After a long pause and a deep breath, I nod. Jax is not only right for reminding me I can’t kill our teammate, but he’s clearly far better at reigning in his rage than I am. So, I stiffly turn back towards the mountain, focusing all my attention on scaling it.

We climb in silence for a moment before I clear my dry throat and say softly, “Thank you, Jax. You didn’t have to help me, but you did.”

“Of course I helped you,” he says with a shrug. “Besides, I’m not sure my brothers would forgive me if I hadn’t.”

His brothers.

That night Kai and I danced during the first Trial—the night we spoke so openly about our lives—was when I had first learned of just how close the princes truly are with Jax. Kai briefly told me of the advisers’ shipwreck on the Shallows, and how they took their son in when he was barely six.

I force out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know, I’m sure Kai wouldn’t mind having less competition.”

He gives me an odd look, clearly trying not to laugh. “Not if that competition is you.” I huff in response, but Jax carries on cheerfully. “Speaking of Kai, I wonder how he is handling this.”

“Handling what?”

Jax pulls himself over a jagged rock with a grunt before breathlessly saying, “The mountain.” When my expression remains confused, Jax adds, “He hates heights.”

“What?” I choke out. “But I watched him climb up one of the pines in the Whispers during the first Trial. He seemed—”

“Fine?” Jax finishes for me with a laugh. “Calm even? Yeah, he’s pretty good at hiding what he feels.”

“Just another mask he slips on,” I mutter under my breath.

Jax nods, causing a bead of sweat to roll down his face. “He’s gotten a lot better with heights though, but only because of all the training the king put him through.”

I knew enough about the king’s twistedtraining, but Kai had never mentioned anything about his fear of heights. “What did the king do?”

“He...he made him climb the highest trees in the Whispers, over and over again until he was convinced Kai had gotten over his fear.”

“What?” My voice is as shaky as the legs carrying me up this mountain.

His own father forced him to relive his worst fear over and over again.

It seems that the torture Kai spoke of enduring was not all physical.

“I was little when Kai was going through most of his training to be the future Enforcer, but I’ll never forget the nights he would come home covered in blood and tears.” Jax looks down at his feet, suddenly more serious than I’ve ever seen him before. “I think he was afraid that I’d be scared of him, so he’d sneak back into his room every night. But I still caught glimpses of him, heard him hacking at his bedposts with a sword.”

We climb in silence for a moment, and I ignore my screaming thoughts just as I ignore the tightness in my throat and the pressure behind my eyes. Then a weary smile spreads across Jax’s lips as he says, “But I couldn’t ask for better brothers.”

“I’d hate to interrupt your cute conversation,” Ace drawls, “but am I the only one who feels that?”

I’m about to dismiss what is likely another attempt to trick me with an illusion when I start to feel it. A slight tremor runs through me, coming from the mountain. The small rocks are rattling around us, and I bend closer to the ground, clutching at anything to hold on to.

“Rockslide,” I breathe.

Dread floods me, followed quickly be determination.

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