But I don’t yell in pain, and I don’t retreat. I continue attacking with my whip and using my superior balance and agility to stay out of the fae’s charging attacks.
It’s when the floor starts tilting again that I decide enough is enough. I’m not going to be able to get close enough to pierce his brain or heart with iron, but I’ve got a mean flying front kick.
As the floor tilts downward and the fae starts to go sliding, I use the momentum and charge him, praying to anyone that’s listening to please not thrust a spike up in my way. Three feet from my quarry, I push off hard with my right foot, lift my left knee high to help build height and momentum, and then cycle my right leg up and out for a well-placed kick to the fae’s chest. It’s hard enough that he’s literally lifted off his feet and he goes flying back. There’s a spike from the floor near the edge, and he manages to grab onto it before going over the edge.
I’m starting to slide off, too, and I can easily latch onto another spike with my whip.
But I want this over.
I need him to fall.
By some stroke of amazing luck—or I’m the baddest bad-ass chick around—I snap my whip his way in an underhanded throw, slicing across his knuckles gripping the spike.
It’s hard and deep enough that, without thought, he screams as he lets go of the metal pole. He makes a scrabbling effort to throw his other hand out to grab it, but he misses.
I fall to my ass from the force of gravity, sliding toward the edge to tumble over after the fae.
Except at the last minute, I once again use my whip to grab onto a spike and I’m caught well before I fall.
With my chest heaving, I merely lay my head on the dirt floor and wait for the flooring to eventually right itself. When it flattens, I notice the rotation stops. Hoisting myself up, I look at my bleeding arm, which is caked with dirt. I’m fairly sure I’ll die of infection rather than fae.
There’s a slight rumbling, and I turn in the direction of the noise. I watch as the pieces of the cave floor that had previously fallen away rise and seemingly snap back into place as if I were watching a movie in reverse motion. With the ground solid once again, I wearily make my way to the next passageway and brace myself for my next trial.
At the threshold to the passage, I’m surprised to see another cave room, but one that is flooded with light. Just beyond that, an opening reveals the jungle.
I’m done.
I rush through the passage, across the small room, but five feet from the exit, a tiny fairy flies in front of me and hovers there.
She’s no more than six inches tall, wearing a pretty gossamer dress. Her tiny translucent wings are beating so fast, they’re a blur.
Putting her hands on her hips, she glares and I know she’s not here to congratulate me.
Rather… she’s another test.
“You can leave if you make it past me,” she says in a tiny squeaky voice.
“Really?” I ask in frustration.
“Afraid?” she taunts. “I’ll have you know, my magic is thousands of years old and some of the most powerful among all the Light Fae.
“Look.” Letting out a heavy sigh, I put my whip away so I don’t look threatening. I have no doubt as to her claims. “I’m tired. I’m bleeding. And I really, really don’t want to fight you.”
“So you’re giving up?” she asks incredulously, her wings beating harder, which makes her bob before me in a slow up-and-down motion. “Just like that… you’re going to admit failure on the gauntlet and lose your chance to be an annihilator?”
“Well, I’m not doing this to be an annihilator,” I explain. “This is just to test my skills, and since your magic is so great, I’m clearly not going to be able to defeat you with it, and, honestly, I don’t have it in me to kill you.”
“Weak words,” she sneers.
“Can we negotiate?” I ask.
Cocking an eyebrow at me, she crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” I drawl in as tactful a way as I can muster because I’m just really tired and now irritable that I have to deal with this pipsqueak. “Is there something you want that perhaps I can give you in exchange for letting me pass without a fight?”
“You really are scared of me, aren’t you?” she titters, clapping her hands in delight. I grit my teeth and she taps a finger to her chin, lifting her eyes upward while she thinks about it.
I wait patiently.
Eventually, she brings her gaze to me, hands back to her hips while she bobs on the air current caused by her wings. “That whip you used in the gauntlet. I’ll take that as free passage.”