Page 39 of House of Ydril

And we’re early, but by the time we walk into the entrance hall, there’s already a million people there waiting for us to leave for the Arena, including Nuala. She’s waving at me, a nervous but warm smile on her face. I barely have time to smile back and mouth ‘Wish me luck’ before I notice our very own Ringleader, the Little Prince himself.

To my surprise, he’s apparently chosen to fight in his casual suit, complete with his Ouroboros waistcoat. He’s towering over the rest of the Chosen, which have him surrounded like a flock of obedient children, even Sarya, Harry, Zelda and Leo.

Sniggering, they’re all watching me beescorted. I let out a sigh and join the circle. Max just waits for Faust to give him a nod and disappears back into the crowd. And though I’ve just seen the Little Prince acknowledge his minion, he doesn’t givemeso much as a glance.

He just claps his hands and says, “Now that we’re all here…” He motions at the Elevator behind him. So he’s back to ignoring me, fucker. Fine by me.

We file into the Elevator, all twenty four of us, the contraption always large enough to accommodate the passengers, no matter their number.

“Once we’re inside,” Faust starts, all eyes immediately snapping to him, “take a seat and wait for your name to be called out. Is that clear?”

I nod, trying not to look at him for too long for fear of my mind filling with the images from my dream. My heart is throbbing at the very thought of what’s about to happen. Once he’s made sure there are no questions, Faust pushes a series of Elevator buttons that are so rarely used, they’re still shiny.

The contraption moves and almost immediately stops. The door opens and we all step out, two by two, the silence and the dim lights of the Elevator being switched for thunderous clapping and bright flood lights.

I draw in a breath. I find myself in a large booth with plush chairs overlooking the inside of a huge glass dome. I walk up to the glass booth wall and look down. Ignoring the chatter of the Chosen behind me, I take time to inspect the oval-shaped ring and the bleachers rising up from its sides. There doesn’t seem to be an empty seat left in the place and the guests all seem to be buzzing with anticipation.

Feeling my heart drop into my stomach, I almost curse out loud. How is it possible that I’m being forced into this and none of it is illegal?

But it’s no use. I’ve researched the instances in which people tried to break the Bond forced onto them by the mark. They didn’t just die. They died violent deaths.

My stomach in knots, I keep staring at the audience gobbling up all this modern-day Gladiator shit. When I finally notice all the screens showing our faces real-time, it almost makes me puke. Still, I keep watching, wondering why the faces of the other Chosen seem so bright and excited, especially compared to my pale and frozen one.

“Come on, people,” I hear Faust say. “Take your seats.”

I listen and sit next to a shifter girl that I believe is called Amra, a toned brunette in a tank top and cargo pants.

Faust comes to stand in front of us. “Right after the First Round,” he starts, “we’ll be having a joint interview with some of the most prestigious newspapers across the world.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes sweeping over our faces. They linger on mine for a bit too long before he adds, “I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Got it?”

I see everyone nodding vigorously. “Good luck to you all,” Faust says and takes his seat.

As soon as he does, I see one of the screens show Pied Piper getting up from her seat in the booth to the other side of the Arena. She approaches the glass booth wall and raises her hand, making the chatter die down.

Her voice booms from speakers all around me. “I’ve been told by our Scion sponsors,” she drawls, her voice carrying a touch of mockery, “to drag the introduction out for the purpose of something they refer to asbuilding tension.”

She finishes with an exaggerated flourish of her hand, making the crowd burst out laughing. I can’t help but smile as well.

“I’ve taken this task seriously and this is what I’ve come up with,” she continues in her usual bored voice. She pauses for a second, sweeping her eyes over the entranced crowd. “It is my honor to welcome you all to the 176th Trials of Grimm Academy. There will be fighting and afterwards, there will be food. Now, do youfeelthe tension?”

There’s such loud cheering from the audience that I feel the urge to cover my ears. Instead, I clap with them.

“Excellent,” the Pied Piper nods contently. “Then it’s time to bring out our first Fighter. Let’s all greet Amra of the House of Lycan.”

I turn to see Amra getting up to leave our booth using a set of stairs to the left. She looks so damn focused, especially when they show her on screen, every detail of her face clearly visible.

I wish Nuala were here with me. I search the audience to catch a glimpse of her, but there’s just too many people here.

What snaps me out of it is the Pied Piper drawling, “Now that our Fighter is in the ring, let’s take a look at what she’ll beplayingwith.”

Playing? I frown. I see Amra standing in the center of the ring and a huge door right across from her opening with a loud creak.

Once they’re fully open, out comes the biggest, most dangerous creature I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what other word to use but ‘giant’. To make it even worse, he seems to be wearing spiked wooden armor. The crowd roars and I just flinch, imagining the fist on that thing slamming itself into me in full force.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“You must be wondering,” the Pied Piper says, obviously amused, “what this is all about. Well, you probably can’t see it from that far away, but our giant is holding a teensy ball in his hand.”

The screen captures it and the crowd goes ahhh.

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