Page 61 of Court of Lies and Deceit

“Left,” I say.

They nod, and we start through that opening.

High above, the crowd is yelling and cheering. I glance up at them. Half of them aren’t even sitting in their seats. Instead, they’re standing and waving flags and banners. I study them while we sneak through the corridor.

On the other side of the arena is a large section where everyone seems to be wearing white, or at least waving white banners. There is a slightly smaller group of people in red opposite them. The rest of the arena appears to be more neutral territory, because banners in yellow, green, and blue, along with some more white and red, are scattered across every tier all the way around the arena. It’s with dismay, but not surprise, that I notice that no one is waving black banners.

Some people in blue are yelling and pointing, as if they’re trying to tell the blue team where to go, but it’s impossible to hear what they’re actually saying through the noise from the rest of the crowd.

I shift my gaze back to my friends. “We should?—”

My stomach lurches.

For a moment, I can’t figure out what’s happening.

Then I’m plummeting downwards after the ground has suddenly disappeared underneath my feet, revealing a mass of sharp spikes below.

I cry out, trying to grab on to something. All around me, my friends are plummeting downwards as well. Half of the floor in the corridor that we were passing through is gone, and the walls are too smooth to offer any handholds. There is nothing I can do to stop my fall.

Fear crackles through me at the overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Then my feet slam into something solid.

It’s so abrupt that the hard landing sends me crashing down on my knees. I gasp, bracing myself against the cold surface beneath me.

My head is still screaming with panic, so it takes me a few seconds to understand what it is that I’m looking at.

A thick sheet of ice has materialized halfway between where the floor used to be and where the sharp spikes were waiting to impale us.

“Azaroth’s flame,” Galen gasps out from my right.

Raising my head, I look up at Isera where she is crouched on one knee a little in front of me. She straightens and then uses the front part of her ice sheet to create a set of steps back up to the section of the floor that still remains.

“Nice catch,” I say.

She gives me a nod but then just jerks her chin towards the steps she created. “Get going.”

I begin to stand up but stumble back down. That’s when I realize that there is a hand gripping my wrist tightly. Blinking, I glance down at it and then up at the man attached to it.

Draven, seeming equally surprised to find himself still holding on to my wrist, quickly stands up and uses his grip on my wrist to help me to my feet as well. As if that was the reason he has been holding on to me for so long.

Giving me a quick smile, he at last releases me and motions for me to start up Isera’s ice steps. I nod in thanks and do as requested. But in my chest, my heart is beating erratically.

When we fell, his first instinct was to catchme. Not Galen, who has been his best friend for over two hundred and eighty years. Me. He grabbedme.

My heart pounds.

It’s real. It has to be.

Or it’s just the mate bond driving him to protect you by instinct, that foul voice whispers in the back of my mind.

But this time, a third voice adds another small whisper.Does it matter?

“I thought she told us to watch thewalls,” Alistair grumbles as he climbs up onto the floor ahead of me.

I quickly make my way up as well, with Draven and Isera bringing up the rear.

“Looks like both the walls and the floor have a tendency to move,” Lyra replies, glancing at the pale stone walls around us.

---