“That was disgusting,” she said as they hurtled forward. She was coated in slick mud from top to bottom. Even the vibrancy of her red hair didn’t peek through.

They reached a set of wooden pillars that were roughly fifteen feet high. A fence was placed between each of the poles to keep them from running straight through the pillars.

Fordham got it first. “Scales, we have to climb.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. There weren’t any handholds. They wouldn’t just climb; they would have to scale the pole and then jump from one to the other. “Gods.”

“Let me through,” Noda said. “I’m a good climber. I’ll go first.”

She shimmied up the pole as if it did have handholds. Kerrigan memorized the way she moved and watched as Noda easily jumped from one pole to the next. There were eight poles in total, and she vaulted from one to the other like a dancer twirling on a ballroom floor.

Fordham went next and then Audria, both making it look easy.

Roake nodded at her. A camaraderie had formed between them. They weren’t exactly friends, but they were teammates. “You first. I’ll boost you.”

“Thanks,” she said in relief.

He hoisted her up in his arms, and she was halfway up the pole in a matter of seconds. They weren’t allowed to use magic on the obstacle course, so she had to rely on sheer strength to claw her way up.

When she reached the top, she lay on her stomach, panting. How had they made that look so easy? Her vision was dizzy as she looked to the other seven poles. With a grunt, she unsteadily rose to her feet, praying to whichever gods would listen that she had the balance for this. As soon as she jumped to the second pole, Roake climbed up the first pole. Kerrigan jumped from one pole to the next. She was to the last pole when she landed wrong and she slipped on the mud still caked on her boot. She cried out as her foot fell out from under her. Her hands pinwheeled. She threw out her hand, her fingernails digging into the wood, ripping and bleeding, but she held on. Barely.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to haul herself up. But she was so slippery; she couldn’t make it work.

“I got you,” Roake called. “Just hold on!”

He jumped, landing on her pole. She gritted her teeth and dug her fingers in deeper to keep from slipping. Roake grabbed her wrist and hauled her up onto the pole. It wasn’t quite big enough for two.

“Thanks,” she muttered, holding her bleeding left hand. She didn’t dare look at it and wonder if it would be a hindrance.