The ground shakes, the world seems paused as I stare at Mads. We both know we have to grab the band or we die. I’d rather die winning than at the hands of those creatures. I nod to her, and it’s enough for her to know what we need to do. At the same time, we both push forward and grab the band, screaming as our bodies fall. We fall down as a bell rings, and the ground closes up. We land on it with a thud, both our shaky hands holding onto the band. My heart is beating so loudly as I look at Mads, and we both start laughing. It is a laugh of relief and a laugh of feckin’ exhaustion.
“Congratulations. Two games done, three to go.” Xur’s voice thunders over the speakers, and I collapse as relief fills me, and I smile widely. Shame everything else just friggin’ hurts, and I have no clue how I’m getting up off this floor.
Chapter 43
“Nope, no way.” I bat Killian’s hands away from my shoulder.
“Karma, seriously,” he replies, raking a hand through his blond hair, “just let me take a look at it.”
“Come on, Killian,” I fire back. “You aren’t healing me like that. It’s only a broken rib and burnt ankle.”
He snorts. “Oh, sure. Only a broken rib and a burnt ankle. Next you’ll be telling me it’s only a punctured lung or a dislocated shoulder.”
I would give a dry chuckle, but laughing still sends bolts of pain through my ribcage, so I bite my lip. “Look, it’s really okay,” I insist. “I can survive it.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Killian replies, taking hold of the hem of my cardigan with both hands. “Honest to gods, Karma, you’re the first person I’ve met who thinks she can shake off an injury that would leave most people in the hospital.”
“Well, I’m not like most people,” I respond, but I don’t protest as Killian helps me pull off my cardigan. I appreciate the feeling of his steady, gentle hands on me, and a thrill rushes through me as I remember the way he touched me the other night… but now isn’t the time, I remind myself with a hiss as I painfully wrench my shoulder.
As painful as my injuries were, while I was in the maze, I at least had fear and adrenaline to block out the worst of it. The second that wore off, though, it really started to hurt - to the point of making me want to scream. I feel like I’ve been run over by a car, and not even Killian’s gentle movements are enough to spare me from the agony that’s coursing through my upper body.
Luckily, Mum brought along some healing liquid she got from the magical market when my family first arrived here. She claimed she had been saving it for a special occasion, and that today certainly qualified - thank the gods. It’s a pretty decent painkiller - made from nymph tears, if the shopkeeper was to be believed - but it still hurts to move around too much. Between the moderate healing abilities of the lesser gods and the possibility that I’ve inherited some of the higher gods’ healing, I can only hope this won’t last too long. Storm certainly seemed to think that was the case; at least, that’s what he told me when he picked me up off the ground in the maze so he could carry me back to the castle with everyone else. I felt a little like a child being bundled away like that, but at that point the pain was so severe that I could barely protest. Maybe it had been foolish of him to charge into the maze after me as soon as the game was over, but I wasn’t about to complain. I also got to witness Peyton running up to Mads and scooping her up off the ground before kissing her and telling her he loved her over and over again. It nearly made me feckin’ cry, it was so romantic - and I don’t even cry when I watch Titanic.
I’m left in my bra as Killian casts my cardigan aside, and I shiver against the cold air of the room. He places his warm hands on my shoulders and makes eye contact with me for a moment before doing a quick scan of my injuries. I can see the concern on his face, and it makes me go all mushy inside for a moment - but only for a moment, mind you. “At least let me heal one of the two things,” Killian suggests after a few moments of looking me over, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.
“Killian, no,” I reply, shaking my head adamantly. “I’m okay - really. The pain isn’t all that bad now, thanks to my mum,” I tell him. As much as I would appreciate the additional relief, I’m no stranger to how healing magic works - it would take a lot out of him, and I don’t like seeing him in pain, so there is no way I’m about to let him do that.
Killian frowns, his golden eyes bright with concern. “There could be another game tomorrow, for all we know,” he counters, brushing a strand of hair out of my face, his hand lingering on my cheek for a moment. “You need to heal, Karma.”
I lean into his touch for a moment, letting my eyes drift closed before looking back up at him. “Thank you, Killian,” I say quietly. “I’m fine, though. I swear.”
“And still as pigheaded as ever,” he says, a little half-smile appearing on his face, and then he leans down and presses his lips gently to mine. My heartbeat picks up speed as I embrace his kiss, wishing the sweet moment could last forever… but it doesn’t, and all too soon, he’s pulling away. “I don’t like to see you hurt,” he murmurs quietly, averting his eyes like he’s almost embarrassed to be confessing this. Looks like I’m not the only one around here who has trouble dealing with my emotions.
“I know that,” I tell him, “and I don’t like to see you hurt either. But this isn’t just about me, Killian. If something happens to me, I need you and Seth and Storm to be in top condition so you can protect my family. I can’t have you putting this on yourself.” He opens his mouth as if to protest, but I hold up a hand to stop him. “I’m alive though,” I say. “I made it through the first games… even if I didn’t quite expect to,” I admit with a dry laugh.
“I did,” Killian tells me, without a hint of teasing in his voice. “I believe you could always win if you wanted to. The higher gods have nothing on you, Karma Kismet,” he says, and I grin at him. Electricity seems to crackle between us for a moment, but we’re interrupted by the sound of my mum shouting for us. I clear my throat and step back, taking my cardigan back from Killian and gingerly pulling it around my shoulders as I walk out of the bedroom I share with Mads and down the stairs.
Mum is standing in the middle of our living quarters, looking anxious. My dad and Seth are there, too, although they’re standing by the door and talking in low voices when I enter. I see Seth’s eyes flit over to me, and for a moment our gazes meet, but that’s when Mum walks over to me.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, her eyes drifting from me to Killian. I see a hint of recognition on her face, and if the situation weren’t so serious, I would expect her to ask a coy question about the boy I had in my room, but now is hardly the time for jokes.
“Better,” I reply, not wanting to alarm her. “I’m still sore, but I feel better than I did before. I’m guessing I’ll be fine in a few hours.” I glance over at Dad and Seth again. “I was just going to lie down for a bit. Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Xur invited us to a meal,” Seth replies dryly, coming to stand next to me and Killian with Dad in tow. “Oh, and when I say invited, I mean he took Damien with him to make sure we would all come along like good little slaves,” he adds, not sounding the least bit impressed.
“What an utter piece of shi-” I start to say.
“None of that language,” Mum interrupts me. “You are still my daughter, and Kismet women do not speak such words.” She puts her hands on her hips, looking at me sternly as if I didn’t almost die a few hours ago. I guess some things never change.
“I’ve heard you swear a million times at Michael, mum,” I retort, nodding in the direction of the corner of the room, where our family goat has been placed for the time being. After the fiasco in the arena, I was a little surprised to see that Killian had brought him back, but Mum seems to enjoy having him around. If he helps to ease her anxiety about my safety, then I’m all for it. Michael is currently sleeping on the sofa, curled up like a housecat, a pink blanket draped over him. And he is snoring. That goat isn’t right.
Kit has been running around our apartments like he owns the place, too. The little goblin is currently perched on top of the fridge to take a nap after enjoying the steak Mum cooked him. It must be nice to not have to live solely on table scraps anymore.
“Well,” she huffs, “Michael is a naughty animal at times.”
“Naughty animal, huh?” I say, trying not to laugh, but Killian chuckles as I waggle my eyebrows at him. It takes everything I have not to burst out laughing, and Mum rolls her eyes.
“Oh, you are a pain,” she replies in a huff before walking over to dad. Killian sidles up to me and slides his arm around my waist, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone else in the room - especially Seth, who looks like he’s just had a bucket of cold water dumped over his head.
His shoulders stiffen and he sets his jaw before coldly saying, “We shouldn’t be late to dinner.” Without another word, he turns on his heel and storms off in the direction of the front door, pulling it open and stalking out of the apartment. I glance at Killian, who shrugs his shoulders, and then over at Mum and Dad, who have been watching the whole exchange.
“Young love, hey?” I hear dad whisper to mum as we awkwardly follow them out of the apartment. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a little embarrassing to have this emotional drama playing out right in front of my family, but there’s no avoiding it, it seems; better to just run with it and deal with my parents’ reactions later.
Killian’s arm remains around my waist as he shuts the door behind us, leaving us to navigate the winding corridors of the palace. It’s eerily silent in the towering halls - even more so than usual, it seems. No doubt the higher gods are reeling from the aftermath of my survival of the maze; I’m guessing they weren’t expecting me to succeed - or at the very least, not expecting Mads to survive. I feel a little surge of satisfaction knowing that I proved them wrong, but the game isn’t over yet. That was just one battle, and there are plenty more ahead before I can say I won the war.
None of us speaks as we head down the hall and into the flourishing courtyard before crossing over to the massive doors leading to the other side of the palace. Was it intentional that Xur put us as far away from them as possible? Probably. The guy’s pettiness knows no bounds.
We stop in front of the doors, waiting as two golden armour-clad guards pull them open to let us in. We find ourselves in a small entrance hall, with a winding set of stairs descending into the bowels of the palace. Honestly, I have no idea how anyone manages to keep all the rooms in this place straight.
Mum and Dad go first, which is for the best; I don’t want them to see how difficult it is for me to go down the stairs. Killian keeps his arm firmly around my waist, doing his best to support me as we make our slow way down, but that doesn’t make it much easier. It feels like every step is a complete mission and a half, sending a jolt of pain up my side and into my shoulder with every movement. It takes us a few painful minutes to make it all the way down, and I have to grit my teeth in determination. The pain in my ribs is the worst - Mum’s elixir must be wearing off by now, and I’m still not far enough along in the healing process, it seems.
“I can see you’re in pain,” Killian whispers in my ear. You’re not very good at hiding it.”
I shoot him a warning look as I take another slow step downward. “Shh, mum will only freak out if she hears you,” I remind him, eyeing my mum ahead of us on the stairs. If she’s noticed my situation, she hasn’t given any indication, which is just as well.
“Your mum isn’t the only one who worries about you,” Killian reminds me, and I pause to give him a long look, letting out a sigh before resuming my descent. The problem with love, I’m realising, is that the worry goes both ways.
