The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)

Trynne could hear the sound of boots from behind her as well, so she hastened up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She was grateful for her training with Captain Staeli. Her endurance was more than a match for the challenges she’d faced so far. When she reached the top of the stairs, there was a heavy iron door blocking the way. She remembered hearing it slam, which seemed odd until she noticed the pulley mechanism next to it, tied to heavy sandbags positioned above. Blinking quickly, she deduced that opening the door triggered the trap that would apply sudden pressure to the door. That meant there was something dangerous on the other side. Reaching out with her magic, she sensed that the tower led outside in a precipitous drop. She realized the drop below led to the moat.

Every use of her power diminished it, and she felt the edges of it shrinking, which made her stomach quiver with worry. What if it ran out when she needed it most? But there was no time to fret. The person coming up behind her would reach the landing soon, so Trynne heaved on the door. As she wrenched it open, she felt the wind and saw two torches hanging from sconces on the wall, the flames hissing in her face as they were drawn in by the wind. The moat was indeed below. Did that mean she needed to swim? Her eyes caught two iron bars extending down from just above the door, almost like rails that went down at an angle. She couldn’t see the moat in the darkness of night, but she could smell it, and she heard someone splashing in the water below.

Then she understood. She could place the staff over the bars and then hang on to it as she went down. She couldn’t see where she was going or how steep it was, but it was better than—

Click.

The trap released the sandbag and the door closed behind her, shoving her out of the tower. She managed to reach out and grab one of the bars with her left hand and dangled from it over the dark pool below. Gritting her teeth, she swung the staff up and over the bars, then quickly snatched it with her other hand. Suddenly, she was gliding downward along the poles. Her stomach thrilled with the feeling of flying, but she couldn’t see where she would land. There was a lawn on the other side of the moat, lit with braziers and sputtering torches that began to loom ahead. The ironwork rods she glided down eventually came to an end on the lawn.

As she hurtled downward at an accelerating pace, she saw the iron poles curled into circles at the ends and were attached to two wrought-iron columns at the end of the lawn. The circles were designed to absorb her momentum, she realized, and when she hit them, her body swung up and around once in a full circle. She dropped to the grass gracefully, just as someone spluttered in the water behind her. Turning, she saw the man with the wounded forehead trying to climb up onto the stone, looking tired and worn out from the swim with the staff. He glared at her as he swung up his legs.

Trynne pulled her staff out of the rings and raced ahead. There was a series of stone obstacles she needed to evade to cross the remainder of the lawn. Some were benches of varying heights. Some were pedestals. A tall wall loomed at the end, about twice the height of a man. She blinked quickly, trying to discern a pattern in the debris. Fallon was scrambling to get up the wall, but as high as he jumped, he could not reach the top edge. It would be impossible for her, for she was much shorter than him. He stepped back, tossed his staff up and over the wall like a javelin, and started shimmying up two of the pillars, which were close enough to provide him with leverage. Trynne started through the maze, jumping over one obstacle, darting past another. By the time she reached the pillars, Fallon had managed to fall forward and catch the lip of the wall. He pulled himself grunting up to the top.

She started up next, mimicking his movement by throwing the staff over it first. She then jammed her hands and feet against one of the pillars, pushing herself up the other. The other man arrived as she reached the top of the pillars. Trynne fell forward and barely managed to catch the edge of the wall. She felt a hand grope at her boot and realized the man below was trying to grab her and pull her down. She brought up her knees and heard his hand slap on the stone. It infuriated her that he was cheating!

The young man glared at her and then uttered an unflattering epithet in Legaultan at her as he started up the pillars himself. Was this the one they called Bowman?

Everyone who passed the Gauntlet earned a badge, but the one who came in first always won the champion’s badge and a hefty bag of gold. Others received lesser prizes. The money was intended to help a champion pay the costs of becoming a knight of the realm. This competitor was clearly willing to cheat to get the money and the fame. Trynne’s fingers burned and her arm muscles strained to hold herself up, but she had practiced for so long in the training yard that she knew what her body could do. She began rocking her hips and then pulled, swinging herself onto the top of the wall.

From that vantage point, she saw another competitor coming down the poles as she had while two more were trying to swim across the moat. Then from her position, she saw that the pillars were of varying heights. She could have jumped from one to the other across the maze, and a final leap would have brought her to the top of the wall.

So each challenge had a difficult way and an easier way to pass it. The bloodied man below swore under his breath and began shimmying up the pillars too. Trynne swung over the edge, lowered herself until she hung from the other side, and then dropped and fetched her staff. Lamps had been hung on iron poles lighting the path to an enormous hedge maze. As she ran toward it, she felt it waiting to swallow her up in darkness.

As Trynne entered the hedge maze, formed by a wooden trellis covered in thick jasmine vines, she heard rustling from the foliage. It was, she realized, the perfect hiding place for guardsmen. Suddenly a pole jabbed at her head from one of the clusters of leaves and Trynne ducked to avoid it, then raced ahead toward a crook in the maze. She had no idea which way to go, but somewhere ahead of her, she heard grunts, followed by a bark of pain.

Was it Fallon? After the way he’d treated her earlier that day, she wanted to win just to spite him.

A whisper of leaves was the only warning before someone thrust a pole at her chest. Trynne parried it with her staff, but she realized that the longer she kept still, the more guards would strike at her. She breathed hard, feeling the fatigue Myrddin had warned her about. Her magic was dwindling, and if she used it all up, she’d be comatose. She wouldn’t pass the Gauntlet.

Then another idea struck her. The trellises for the star jasmine vines were made of wood. She ran the length of maze on her right, and when she got to the end, she swung up the staff across the trellises on either side of the maze and pulled herself up. From this position, she could see a burning pit fire along the far wall of the maze, marking the exit.