Page 41 of Bloodguard

More bubbles swell from my mouth. I’m almost out of air. Again, the two monstrous sharks appear, and this time, they’re followed by two friends.

They swim in circles, searching for the source of movement beneath. My lungs are on fire, and there’s nothing to hide behind.

Their hunger works to my advantage, though, and they start to turn on one another. I force my arms and feet to glide, trying to avoid harsh movements as I skim the sand along the bottom. They’re too busy fighting to notice me. Well, so far.

I find my opening and reach for the surface, only getting a few breaths in before a fin rises from the water and careens toward me at impossible speed.

I flip onto my back and kick away, keeping the trident aimed toward the shark as it dives under.

“There he is, my dearest. There,” a royal human shouts. I’m almost to the wall when I see who it is: the male in the garish bright robes, and his companion who hurt the small child back in the square. He points to where I am so his “dearest” won’t miss the fun.

The woman claps, delighted.

I dive down, furious, only to howl in agony when the shark’s barbed tail strikes my arm. Their distraction cost me dearly. A fresh cloud of red swirls around me.

With a roar, I use the pain to propel myself to the surface.

I reach the air, choke and spit, greeted by the applause and enlivened commentary of that same damned royal and his partner.

With a curse hurtled at them, I push up on a small protrusion in the wall and leap high, my anger firing my will. I snag the male by his robe, bringing himandthe woman with me when she tries to save him.

We fall into the water with a giant splash. From above, chaos erupts. I use the weight of the fall to submerge, pulling the elitist assholes with me until they thrash and disrupt the current.

Still laughing?

As carefully as I can, I make my escape.

With all my strength, I swim across the arena, hugging the wall so that at least one of my sides is covered. I stop just in time to see the feeding frenzy.

Their robes of silk aren’t enough to protect their skin, and their bejeweled fingers can’t shield their pretty faces. If they beg for mercy, I don’t hear them—no one does—their cries of terror suppressed by those from the crowd.

The energy of the audience has completely shifted.

The sharks are hungry and greedy, fighting one another for every morsel, their bloodlust soaring with each section of human flesh they split apart.

My senses enliven with newfound hope. I think I’m onto something. What are the rules? Oh yes—anythingin the arena within my reach. The mage forgot that essential piece of knowledge when she flooded the space. She was too occupied with impressing the crowd and the royal court to consider the consequences of her actions and what could befall her fellow tyrants. The higher the water level, the easier for me to reach them.

The rain abruptly stops, permitting me the sight I was long denied. Soro marches his way to the mage on the terrace. She might have forgotten the rules. But I’d bet my lunch he did not.

He slaps her across the face as he points angrily at the water. She grips the edge of the terrace, blood pouring down her split lip. She attempts to put distance between herself and Soro but stumbles toward the exit. Soro follows, pushing her down the rest of the way.

To her credit, her power over the arena holds strong despite the pummeling she receives. She keeps her spell going even while attempting to escape.

What a fool. She has the magic to destroy Soro and his subordinates. Instead, her goal was likely to be appointed to the royal court. Like other fools—there are so many here—she wants to belong to the inner circle. She expects a reward of gold, jewels, and connections. Her arrogance will likely cost her more than just her pride today.

Soro yells something at her and then calls to the guards, urging them into action.

I dart toward the arena seats and the two lowest rows of people as they push and trample one another, trying to reach the higher stands.

So much for that strategy.

Something pokes me in the shoulder. I whip around to see that wooden sword floating behind me.Again. Don’t tell methisis Maeve’s grand plan. No…she’s smarter than that.

The weapon is following me like a stray and distracting me. Hell, if this is the best she can do for me, she’d better find another sap to marry.

The sharks are almost finished with their royal feast. I’m running out of time before I become dessert.

Several guards return to the lowest ring of seats, escorting dwarves in battered clothing with giant cauldrons strapped to their backs. Again, I’m reminded that time isn’t my only hurdle.

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