Page 22 of Ironhold, Trial Two

The emperor is there now. Tiberius VI, middle aged, slender, with close cropped dark hair. He wears a purple toga, a circle of golden laurel leaves on his brow. His eyes are deep set but seem to take in every detail of me as I stand there in front of him. His expression is not friendly. I don't know if that is because I defied his instruction to give Vex death on the sands in my first season, or because of his prophecy that a beast whisperer would lead to his fall.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that I have attracted the attention of the emperor and not in a good way. This is a man who could order me killed, who has the literal armies at his command, and he looks at me as though I am an enemy.

The announcer keeps going. “We know of this gladiator’s skill in commanding beasts, but some beasts are so fearsome they cannot be controlled. Citizens of Aetheria, we present to you a creature bred in the pits, melded with magic, designed for death. Behold the chimera!”

Even the name gives me no clues, because a chimera could be any kind of blended beasts. I must wait with my weapons ready as the gate at the far end of the arena opens, and a creature charges through.

It is a hideous mix. Its body is that of some kind of reptile, but it has the legs and claws of a lion. two heads sit atop the torso, one that of some great raptor, the other that of a wolf. The tail of a scorpion rises up behind it, ready to sting.

I barely throw myself out of the way as it makes that first rush, pouncing on the spot where I was standing.

I have not seen this creature in the beast pits of Ironhold. It must have been bred elsewhere, perhaps especially for this. Have they deliberately tried to find a creature I cannot fight? The memory of the emperor’s expression comes back to me. I am certain now that he has ordered this. He has commanded the organizers of the arena to find a beast foe that is too strong for me.

I dodge again, knocking aside a jab of the stinger with my trident, trying to get some sense of the way the creature is moving. It is hard to gauge though, because the various parts of it seem to move almost out of time with one another, making its attacks unpredictable and deadly. The wolf head snaps and snarls at me, so that I'm forced to flick my net into its face to keep it back. The eagle head tears at my net, snapping one of the strands.

I back off, adrenaline flooding through me as I try to find a way to survive. This chimera is so fast that I barely block its next attack, and I know it will not give me breathing room, will not give me the space I need to think.

Is that a part of why they've chosen it? I saw in Lady Elara’s lessons how important it is to be able to access my powers while under pressure, while everything in the world tries to distract me. Only this time, it is not some robed figure swinging a knotted rope who is providing the distraction, but a creature intent on my death.

I fight back as best I can, my training starting to pay off because I have the speed and the strength to keep moving anddefend myself against the chimera’s attacks. I even manage an attack or two with my trident, although those are mainly aimed at buying me some time rather than trying to land a mortal blow. Even with a creature like this, I have no wish to kill if I can avoid it.

I barely duck under a swipe of the claws, rolling and coming up, flinging my net at it. The weapon tangles it for a moment, letting me back off and concentrate.

I try to feel it with my power, and what I feel is chaotic and fragmented. It feels the same as when I tried to connect to so many different minds in the crypts beneath the city, the presence of so many fragments pulling me different ways, threatening to rip my mind apart. I can feel, not just the savagery of the wolf and the focused hunting instinct of the eagle, but also elements of the scorpion and the lion as well as the strange reptile mind of the main body. It is as if each fragment has carried with it some portion of its mind, leading to a beast enraged by the presence of so many different elements pulling in different directions.

Even as I make contact with that mind, I know that it is a trap designed for a beast whisperer. It is a mind in which it would be easy to lose myself, an argument of different elements on which it seems impossible to gain real purchase. How am I meant to single out one when all of the others are demanding my concentration at the same time?

The part of me that is not concentrating on the chimera's mind can see that it has broken out of my net, and is now charging for me again. I knock aside its first attacks, jamming the haft of my trident into the mouth of the wolf, kicking the side of the eagle’s head. I barely weave out of the way of the scorpion stinger in time, a shower of sand going up as it hits the ground.

I'm certain for a second that I am going to die. There are too many attacks to deal with, too many components to this mindto get a clear grip of. Fear fills me at the thought of that. I don't want to die here. I don’t want to feel that sword like stinger pierce my flesh, don't want to feel dagger like claws rend me and spill my blood.

My fear rises, and it seems as though my power rises in response. I do not try to single out one component of the chimera's mind now. Instead, I grab for all the different elements of it. It is like trying to juggle knives, so that I am briefly reminded of Vex and his trick of keeping them aloft. Even that thought’s almost enough to distract me, but somehow I hold on to the various elements of the chimera's mind, keeping a grip on them with everything I have.

I know I cannot quiet this beast the way I did with the Ironhide. I cannot grant it peace because there is no peace within it. This is a thing at war with itself and with the world, created to be a whirlwind of fury and violence. But I can use that. I can use the fact that it's so many different parts. I don't have to hold them, don't have to keep control. I just have to set them against one another. Just have to unleash the hatred that each part feels for the rest, the anger that they feel at being joined through hideous magic.

I set the chimera against itself and it starts toattackitself. The scorpion stinger lashes down into the reptilian body again and again. The lion's claws rend the head of the eagle. The wolf's head bites the lion limbs. Each part attacks each other part, each seeking to do as much damage as possible. The pain of those attacks drives the chimera wild, and that only increases the fury with which it lashes out.

It means I have to dodge back to avoid it, but I am not its primary target now. Its movements are slowing, the venom of the stinger taking effect. The wolf lets out a long, pained howl as the chimera falls to its knees, then collapses to its side.

I can feel the pain it's in, the agony of the death it’s undergoing. To the watching crowd it must look as though I am taking my triumph, standing over it with my trident, raising it up in glory. In fact, I'm doing the only thing I can to alleviate the pain I've just caused it. I have done something with my powers that is darker than anything I have done so far. I have set this creature against itself, and now the only thing I can do is release it from its agony. I know it will not heal and that its death will be slow.

So I drive my trident down into its heart with all my strength. Hot blood spurts up, spilling over the sand as the crowd roars its approval. I should feel satisfied that I have survived, should feel good about what I've just done. I should be able to revel in the praise of the watching people.

Instead I feel sick at the way I have slain this beast. I feel horrified by the fact I've had to do it, by what the emperor and his people have made me do.

Chapter Thirteen

In the wake of my bout, I cannot be around people. It is the usual practice to head up to mingle with the nobility in the areas set aside for us to entertain them with our presence. It is a place of wine and fine food, of servants waiting at their every whim, and where many of the gladiators find themselves the objects of the nobles’ attentions. They want to share in their wins, want to congratulate them.

I don't want to be congratulated. Not after what I just did.

I tore the chimera apart. I set the different aspects of it against one another, killing it as surely as when I plunged my trident into its heart. I'm not sure which moment felt like the bigger act of violence. Neither one felt good.

Standing there while the crowd roared for my victory was worse. I had given them what they wanted and so they rewarded that with their cheers. It would be easy to give in to the adulation, but I'm also aware of what I must do to gain it.

I try telling myself that the chimera was in so much pain that finishing it was an act of mercy, but I'm the reason it was in pain. If I had just… that's the problem. What else could I have done? If I hadn't killed it, the chimera would have killed me. Using my powers like that was my only choice, and the thing I hate most about the Colosseum is that it presents us with such choices over and over again.

Because I don't want to go to the nobles and their celebrations, I head to the space where the beasts are being kept beneath the Colosseum instead. No one stops me, and I walk among the pens and the cages there, trying to find some solace amongst the presence of the beasts.

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