Shadows and Steel | ✓

chapter thirty-six

-36-

Sixteen agents remained for the penultimate trial. That morning the tension had been palpable. If they survived this task, they would progress to the final trials. Elle had prepared herself in silence, brushing knots from her hair with more force than necessary. Ravaryn was a comfort at her side.

Her fingers were wrapped around the hilt as she surveyed the circle of assassins. Each had a table before them where six weapons lay and a single goblet of liquid resembling water. Elle kept her expression cold and unyielding as Mather strode into the centre.

"Recruits! Before you lies six weapons: an assortment of blades, arrows, daggers and glass." He interlaced his fingers behind his back. "Five of which are laced with a heart-stopping poison, should it get into your blood stream. The correct answer is different for each one of you, so don't even entertain the idea of cheating or I'll send you out on your ass. The goblet of water is safe."

Elle's eyes flit to the weapons lined neatly on the wooden table. A falchion, a wickedly curved rhun, a barbed arrow, a shard of glass and a haladie knife. On first inspection, none of them jumped out as being entirely safe or entirely deadly.

"You have one hour maximum. Then, you will make your selection. The faster you finish, the better your ranking will be." Mather's head whipped around to address those behind him. "Begin!" He barked.

She started systematically, from left to right. Her fingers moved deftly to pick up the arrowhead, inspecting it closely. Nothing obvious. Smelling the tip, she wrinkled her nose. DETRA had added a scent to throw her off, or to cover the poison's giveaway smell. She frowned, looking for specs or residue on the curled barbs.

When she glanced up she found that Tan was watching her closely. The blonde assassin also held her arrow head.

After the once-over, the assassin moved on to the curved rhun blade. The tip had a purple stain on it, which could've been dye but she didn't want to take the chance. When she lifted it to her nose, the faint sickly scent of ripe berries filled her nostrils. Tharith.

She moved on, sniffing and handling each weapon delicately. The shard of glass was another obvious one: when she dipped some of the water on it the shard bloomed yellow. Maiden's Flower.

Thirty minutes had passed and Elle still felt no closer to the correct answer. Both the haladie knife and the falchion had no residue, no scent, no giveaway taste. She was stumped between them. What made matters worse was the arrogant confidence of Rand, lifting his falchion up. It had the purple stain on the end, if it had the unmistakable smell it was Tharith. Rand wouldn't make an error like that. Gods, she prayed that it wasn't just dye. His eyes slowly slid to her as he announced to Mather. "I'm ready to make my choice."

The room stilled. Mather folded his arms, "very well. Cut your arm."

Rand didn't wince as the blade sliced the skin of his forearm, his triumphant smile remained. Seconds ticked by and his cockiness didn't falter. He didn't keel over, or start to foam at the mouth. A minute. Then, Mather grinned slightly. "Well done, agent. Your falchion was the correct answer."

Rand dipped his head, eyes flashing dangerously. He made a show of wiping his hands down on his leathers and placing the weapon back. Elle sneered at him from across the ring, then went back to her own weapons. Unfortunately, his falchion wasn't laced with Tharith. Now the race was on, everyone would be trying to finish, grappling at the opportunity to fight less fights, to start closer to the final pairings.