My skin prickles, and dread at his intension slams my gut. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Crew asks. “I think holding Bax hostage is smarter. He is the dark priest’s son, after all. Bartering his life for ours makes more sense.”
The discussion is cut short as the cell door bangs open. Bax and his guards enter the training room and summon us to our feet. As we line up, I glance at Crew’s anxious features, hoping his new theory has been forgotten.
I don’t know if the stadium full of red-faced Otherworlders has lost its effect, or if the full moon above doesn’t hold as much threat, but my mind and body are numb. My senses are dulled, and the Cage crackling with electric blue is more mesmerizing than nefarious.
In the middle of the Cage, one of Krewl’s Quicksilvers—a petite girl with a leather circlet named Whip—faces off against the Colossal Drack. He was the last to fight last night, but I’m told that someone has to go twice, as we’re an uneven number of contenders. Bax said his name was drawn at random, but I have my doubts on how the fights are chosen, or rigged.
I’m only thankful that Caben or one of the Nactue wasn’t chosen for this burden.
Whip and Drack have made it to the second half of the fight and now both sport weapons. My gaze drifts past their tattered and bloodied forms to where Lilly stood last night. I haven’t seen her yet, and my mind can’t focus on anything going on around me until I know she’s all right.
I’ve said nothing more to Bax. In a way, I understand what he’s doing for his family. His fear of his father runs deep; even deeper is his fear of the moon goddess. If I were him, I’d probably do the same. And as I continue to search for Lilly, I decide in an instant that I would. I would get those I care for far away from here if given the chance.
Knowing now that Bax has a similar motivation as mine hinders my original plan. If I convince him of my link to the deities, would it hurt him or his family? How closely connected is the dark priest to Bale? Does she speak to him directly? Would the dark priest know that my claim is false and punish Bax?
Before, Bale was a myth. But now that I can feel her evil presence here, I think the dark priest would see through the guise. I decide it’s not worth the risk.
As Drack comes crashing down, Whip strangles him with her leather circlet. The small contender jumps off his back as the horn sounds. Drack didn’t beat the odds, and the match is over. Krewl has another win.
I stare at the blood seeping into the black earth, my gaze unfocused. As the guards move in to clear away the felled contender, the crowd quiets, and Bax turns to face his league. His eyes scan each of us in turn. Before he’s ready to give whatever speech he’s prepared, the horn sounds again, and the announcer enters the Cage and calls Orion.
My head snaps to the dominant feather brother.
There’s no hint of fear on his dusky face, and his brother’s features are a hardened mask betraying no emotion until Orion reaches the center of the Cage. Then his face crumples, revealing the worry and anxiety that must be wracking his body.
Caben attempts to move closer to Kaide, but the brother levels him with a squinted glare. He doesn’t want comfort, and he expects his brother to win—for them both to win and walk out of here together.
Maybe they will.
The goddesses haven’t given me a sign as to who will be the victor. I feel like they’ve abandoned me. I close my eyes and search deep, seeking the tiny light that is my empress’s life force. It’s there but weak, hidden beneath the madness and darkness bordering on the edge of my soul.
The crowd roars as the announcer calls Collar’s next contender to the Cage. Primal emerges from the opened door of the chamber, filling the space. His shoulders swell with muscles, leaving no room for a neck, and his tunic and pants nearly tear away from his bulging body as he walks toward Orion.
The horn moans through the dark, and I turn my head before the two contenders clash. I don’t want to watch another bloody death. Instead, I look to the full moon hanging in the starless, projected sky. The pale orb washes me in light as the blackness invades.
Two more fights. One more night.
Crew and Caben grab Kaide’s arms before Bax’s guards draw their weapons. They hold the screaming feather brother back from bolting into the Cage. Kaide elbows Caben in the ribs and wrenches one arm free, but Lena takes Caben’s place, quickly latching an arm around Kaide’s stomach.
Kaide’s wails are drowned out by the roar of the crowd cheering for Primal. My eyes flick to the black dirt where Orion’s body lies severed in two pieces. Primal beats his chest with one large first, having ripped off his tunic mid-fight, and swings a scythe above his head. Blood slings from the tip of the blade.
“Contender,” Bax says, low and gravelly. “Get control of yourself.”
Kaide’s deep irises ignite and he spits in Bax’s face. He says nothing, but his stare alone says he’d like to end Bax right here.
Before Bax can order the guards to stand down, one of them clubs Kaide over the head with his prod. Kaide drops to his knees and sways.
“Enough!” Bax shouts, halting the guards’ attack. “It was his brother.” He takes one last look at the broken contender before he goes to his rickety table where he waits for the statistics.
“Take him to the back of the chamber,” the guard with half his face painted red orders. Then the two of them turn their backs on us.
Crew and Lena pick Kaide up under his arms while Caben grabs his limp legs. They prop him up against the wall in the far back. I cross my arms, waiting to see if Kaide will speak. He doesn’t. His eyes glaze over as he stares straight ahead at nothing.
Heaving a deep breath, Crew turns to us. “Well, maybe now we can sway his alliance.”
My chest flares with heated, lashing tendrils, and I step forward, but Caben is quicker. He punches Crew, the hard knock landing with a loud smack against Crew’s square jaw.