“Let’s go. The sooner we get that rose, the sooner we can get the fuck out of here.” I’m about to protest that we have no chance of finishing this when he silences me with a look and clasps my chin between his finger and thumb. “We are getting out of here. There is no other alternative.”

“Okay,” I reply, wishing I could believe it.

He stands and then draws me up, and we wrap our arms around each other, holding one another for several long seconds.

“Come on.”

We pack up our meager possessions. I tuck my dagger into the sheath around my leg, and we emerge into the sunny morning. Or whatever this is.

Instead of the crowded stands, a mirrored dome now spreads over our heads, reflecting everything trapped beneath. Are the crowds still there, sitting beyond it? I close my eyes and embrace the freedom from their screams and cheers, basking in the comfort of the forest’s normal sounds: the rush of wind, the distant tumble of water, and the buzzing of insects.

“Where is everyone?” I whisper, and Nadir shakes his head.

“I suspect this is part of the game and intended to throw us off.”

Sticking close to the trees, we weave our way towards the mountain, and I can’t help the shiver that travels up the back of my neck. It feels like we’re being watched by a thousand invisible eyes rooting for our downfall.

We continue our journey to the center, keeping our sights trained on the distance and awaiting potential threats. The forest is dense and lush, filled with flowers and mushrooms. Trees hang with shiny red berries, and my mouth waters at the sight.

“What are the odds that any of these are edible?” I pluck one from a branch and hold it up to the light as if a warning might be etched into the tender skin.

“Oh, I bet some are. That’s the point. To taunt us.”

“What if I try it?” I suggest. “I can’t die.”

“But you could get very sick. You were severely injured yesterday.”

As if in a reminder, the wounds in my stomach pull with a twinge.

“But what’s a little vomit?” I ask, only half joking.

“Lor, no,” Nadir says. “You’ll only weaken yourself further.”

“But we need to eat something.”

“I’m not letting you make yourself sick for me.”

“I’m doing it for me,” I say. That’s not strictly true, but he can’t really argue with that.

“Lor—” Well, he can try.

I pop the berry into my mouth before he can stop me. It bursts on my tongue, and I moan at the fresh, sweet, and slightly sour taste. The juice drips down my throat and I feel like I’ve been reborn.

“See?” I say. “Perfectly fi—”