In the face of his abrupt order, Alex automatically followed his command, throwing her arm out and shifting her weight onto her good leg, the platform swaying precariously beneath her.
“And in case you’re tempted to try the same trick twice, you should know that’s not water you hold this time,” the cloaked man said.
“What is it?”
“It’s known in Medora as oxytophamine,” he said in his bland tone. “But in your world, you would liken it to hydrochloric acid.”
Alex’s hand jerked, the liquid sloshing alarmingly close to the edge. “You’re bluffing.”
“If you’re willing to risk it, feel free to test your hypothesis and see.”
Once again, he disappeared, leaving Alex balancing like an idiot on one leg and holding what he claimed was a glass of highly corrosive acid.
“Think, Alex,” she said to herself. “Think.”
As the seconds turned into minutes, the glass in her hand transformed from something that started out as being reasonably light in weight, to something that felt like tonnes of pressure pulling down on her arm. And more than that, the platform underneath her was growing less and less steady as she attempted to remain upright on a single, shaky leg.
I have to be missing something, she thought, her mind flicking from one hypothetical solution to the next, all of which would result in her failing. He wouldn’t have given me this task if there wasn’t a way out.
Her muscles began to cramp, telling her that if she didn’t hurry up, both she and the acid were going to end up in the lake.
“Come on,” Alex cried, looking wildly around for anything that might help. But as before, it was just her and the floating rock surrounded by miles of water.
When her limbs started to spasm, Alex knew she was down to her final seconds, and she quickly debated her options. The first was to keep going as she was and, ultimately, collapse—and in doing so, spill the acid. The second was to lower both her foot and arm and risk being disqualified for not holding her position. And the third was to call the cloaked man’s bluff and hope that it really wasn’t acid in the glass.
The first two options would certainly lead to instant failure. But the third…
The third could lead to death.
The odds weren’t stacked in her favour no matter how she looked at the situation. But if she failed and the man refused to help her with her gift, then it wasn’t just Alex who would reap the consequences—it was the whole of Medora. So despite the odds, it was a risk she would just have to take.
Worst case, she’d take a sip, burn her mouth—she refused to consider more than that—and drop the glass, before activating her Shadow Ring and running straight to Fletcher. Or, even better, heading straight to the Silverwood for some laendra, heedless of Aven’s patrols and her promise to Kyia. Sure, she would fail the task, but hopefully she would find a way to survive it.
Best case—and what she was counting on—was that the man had lied to her, and it really was just water.
Being sure to keep her wounded leg in the air so as to not eliminate herself, Alex drew her arm in before she could lose her courage.
“Bottoms up,” she murmured, taking the smallest of sips. With her entire body shaking on the rock—and not just from the strain of holding her one-legged position—Alex waited for the burning.
It never came.
Tentatively, she took another sip. And another. When still no screams erupted from her mouth, Alex felt relief flood her and tipped back the glass, chugging down the remainder of the liquid. She found it remarkably difficult to drink while keeping balanced on one very strained leg, but she managed to hold her position long enough to drain the glass—and for the cloaked figure to pop back into existence.
“Slower this time,” he said. “But not unexpected. Trust is clearly your weakness.”
Presuming she could now lower her leg again, Alex did so, bending carefully at the waist to massage the cramped muscles of her uninjured thigh.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “If I’d trusted you, I’d still be standing like that, since I would have believed you about the acid.”
“It’s not your lack of trust that’s the problem—it’s that you’re too trusting. It took you too long before you were willing to consider I had lied. Had you distrusted me from the start, you wouldn’t have waited so long before testing the liquid.”
“But—”
“Your final task continues with the theme of the first two,” he interrupted before she could argue how ridiculous his point was.
Once again, at his words, the glass filled with water. But something new appeared this time as well. A second floating rock rose to the surface of the lake within stepping distance.
“This time you need not keep your arm outstretched while you deliberate what to do, nor must you remain on just one leg,” the man said. “But you also cannot drink the water. When you reach the end, the glass must be as full as when you started.”
Swiping a tendril of wet hair off her face and behind her ear, Alex asked, “When I reach the end of what?”
Of course, that was when he disappeared again—and without answering her, surprise, surprise.
“I do not like that guy,” she muttered to herself, not caring that he could likely hear her.
At least this time she had a fair idea of what she had to do—that being to take a step of faith onto the next floating platform and hope that it would hold her weight.
Psyching herself up for the possibility of tumbling into the water, Alex covered the top of the glass with her free hand just to be safe. She then bent slightly—and painfully—at the knees to help with her balance, and reached forward with her good leg until her foot rested on the second platform.
Putting a little pressure on it, only when she was confident that it wasn’t a trick did she step onto it fully, with the stone wobbling dangerously underfoot but not submerging.
“Ha!” she cried, holding her glass up in triumph.
The moment the exclamation left her mouth, the rock she had first been standing on moved. One second it was behind her, and the next it circled around until it was in front of her, within stepping distance once again.
All of a sudden, Alex had a very bad feeling as she recalled the cloaked man’s words. ‘When you reach the end…’
With a gulp, she looked between the two floating platforms and then lifted her eyes up to the horizon. Having moved barely a foot, the scenery hadn’t changed; there was still no sign of land.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she said, understanding the full extent of her task—or perhaps not, since she had no idea how far she would have to travel.
Raising her voice, she cried, “Hey, Mr. Mystery Man! You can’t be serious about this?”
Unsurprisingly, there was no response.
With nothing for it, Alex sighed loudly and wobbled her way across to her original platform. When the second rock circled around in front of her again, she wobbled her way onto it once more, resigned to continue the tedious balancing act until the cloaked figure decided he was done messing with her and was ready to accept her as his student.
Eight