Page 137 of Bloodguard

Unless I end up like that troll over there.

And there.

And there.

I swallow hard.

He didn’t need that spleen, anyway.

Panic should have set in. I’m halfway across the arena and armed to the teeth, having tucked three daggers into my waistband, two broken spears under my arm, a sword into one hand, and my trusty boomerang in the other. It’s only because I’m allowed to take weapons from the fallen that I have this much.

A banging sound reverberates from the other end of the arena. The warning of impending danger causes several royals to faint and even more to clutch each other.

I stash the sword upright in the sand, remembering I was warned not to engage my opponent directly, and ready for one hell of a fight. A creak averts my gaze from the opposite end and to a concrete door I’d noticed but never seen used. It’s part of the arena wall. It opens with a deep, thuddedcrackfollowed by a hideous snarl.

Within the darkness, white-hot flames ignite six hundred pounds of bovine muscle.

Oh fuck.

I run before the fire bull can charge. It’s not to escape. There’s no escaping these creatures who trample their food and then hold their shrieking bodies down so they can burn them alive and enjoy a homecooked meal. And let’s not forget the ones they kill for pleasure.

The distance I create is long enough to pivot and toss my first spear. It nails the racing bovine in the chest.

Its hellish speed works against it. It trips over itself, driving the broken spear deep enough to puncture a lung. It rolls out of the way from another fire bull that appears, crashing against the wall and kicking up sand as it slowly dies.

The next fire bull is faster and smarter than I prefer my opponents. It closes in on me, weaving from side to side, easily avoiding the next broken spear I toss, plus another I come across.

When only yards remain between us, I lift my blade and run toward it, and, yes, another fire bull appears. I’d prefer to kill my enemies from afar, but they have other plans. My legs and arms pump as I accelerate. They mean to impale me as they did that poor sap who met them ass-first.

I slide between the legs of the one who reaches me first, its large body providing me the space I need to lift my spear and cut its underbelly. The flames encasing it flicker out as I roll away. That kill was surprisingly easy. Too easy for the chunks of gladiators who remain.

The final fire bull is smaller but more muscular and the fastest yet. I hop onto my feet, cursing when I realize that my haste to get out from under the other fire bull cost me a dagger that slipped from my waistband. But two still remain.

I barely have my balance when the fire bull slides to a stop and then doubles back. The quick turn slows it just enough for me to jerk to the side and bring my boomerang blade down on its snout.

The shock of pain impedes the fire bull’s natural ability to maintain its flame. The dwindling heat is enough to singe my skin but not enough to burn me alive.

It jerks its head back and forth, shoving me to the side and trapping me against the wall as it tries to fling the blade embedded into its face.

I feel every bit of its heavy, jerky movements. I dig my heels into the sand and push, scrambling free as I wrench my blade from its snout. With a tight grip on the handle—a short piece of leather connecting the two blades on either side—I bring it down hard into the fire bull’s skull, shattering the dense bone and piercing its brain.

When it collapses, I raise my weak arms, expecting only thunderous applause.

A youngling dwarf who accompanies his parents yells, “Yay!” His parents don’t notice him, continuing to clutch each other in fear.

Other than some less-than-heartfelt claps, there’s nothing.

It’s eerily quiet. And that was far too easy.

Until a metal-on-metal grinding sounds from across the arena.

The gate opens just enough for a humanoid head to peek through.

The creature’s head is bald and its attention everywhere, glancing around and breathing through its mouth. A wave of visceral disgust washes over me. This creature iswrong.

Screeches and screams from the crowd immediately begin. I think I hear Maeve, but I don’t dare look this time. No. This freak will require my undivided attention.

My shock is the only thing that silences the collective cursing my insides are doing as my opponent pushes its way into the arena.

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