Page 35 of Godbound
I flail in the water, grasping for anything, fingers tangling in the thick vines that snake along the stone. The current is violent, trying to wrench me free, twisting and pulling like a beast determined to drown me.
My body slams into the wall, then is yanked away, only to be thrown back against unyielding stone. My head cracks against it, and darkness edges my vision.
My fingers slip and the world tilts just before something inside me shatters. A bubble of magic bursts and heat floods my veins, molten and searing, racing through my body like wildfire.
For a split second, the pain in my head intensifies, turning into a sharp, blinding agony, as if the broken pieces of me are being welded back together.
Then, just as suddenly, it vanishes. A strange, humming warmth takes its place, spreading outward like the echo of a dying flame.
My bones knit themselves back together, seamless and whole, as though the injury had never happened.
I emerge from the water, gasping for breath as water streams from my nose. My fingers fumble, digging into the vines. My body thrums, the aftershock of magic leaving my muscles trembling.
I barely register Kaelzar’s voice, only the singular instinct: climb, move, survive.
Through the tether, Kaelzar is roaring, but his words are lostbeneath my thunderous panic. His desperation slams into me, his plea raw and unguarded.
He would sacrifice everything—everything—if it meant I survived.
If it meant he could return home and finish what he left undone.
My lungs burn as I swim toward the nearest wall, fingers scraping against moss-slicked stone. Ivy clings stubbornly to the surface, giving me just enough grip to find purchase.
“Climb,” Kaelzar orders. But this time, his voice is unguarded, almost… pleading. I don’t have time to think about why. Before I can obey, something clamps onto my leg.
A sharp yank nearly wrenches me free of my hold. I look down. Wild, terrified eyes meet mine. A Champion. He grips my leg with bruising force, his fingers digging into my skin.
I don’t know his name. But I remember his Godbeast—a gray dragon with wings sliced off completely, two stumps in their stead. A desperate thought emerges. Can I save both of us?
“If I die, you die with me, whore,” he snarls, his nails puncturing my skin.
Save myself it is.
“Kick him in the face! Use those damned legs!” Kaelzar snaps.
I do. My foot connects, and something cracks beneath the force. He doesn’t let go.
I kick again, harder this time, my fingers digging into the rock, the rush of water trying to claim us both. His grip falters, weakens. And then, finally, his fingers slip and the current seizes him.
His scream is swallowed by the churning water. And then he is gone.
Coldness settles over me. I barely feel the absence of his weight. My body moves on instinct, pressing my forehead against the stone as I force air into my lungs.
Minutes later, the water recedes, retreating like a beast satisfied with its kill.
I exhale and climb. The top of the wall comes into view, and I drag myself over it, chest heaving, muscles burning. Below, the maze sprawls in twisting paths of death and fire. I barely spare it a glance beforepushing forward.
Move. Keep moving.
My limbs are shaking. My lungs still burn from the water. The memory of it—of being submerged, breath stolen, body trapped—won’t leave me. I press a hand to my ribs, trying to steady my breath, but Kaelzar’s voice slithers into my mind before I can stop him.
“I felt that.”
A cold shudder works its way down my spine. “Felt what?”
“The moment before you gave up.”
I force out a breath, sharp and uneven. I want to argue, to spit back something cruel, but my voice catches in my throat. Because he’s right.
