Page 27 of Ironhold, Trial Two

Rowan seems to sense it. “We should get to work. You defended well today, but you still need to work on where your attacks could be in the middle of it.”

“I'm not sure I want to go through it all,” I say.

“Doing it is the best way to get it out of your mind,” he replies. “And then…”

There is a promise unspoken in those words, or at least a possibility. I'm not sure what Rowan and I are to one another, if we are truly anything. The moments when he seems to want me most are in the middle of the games, when we are all balanced between life and death, and we are all living for the moment. There will be plenty of people creeping into each other's rooms tonight, plenty drinking wine, plenty just finding whatever company they can.

Would it be so wrong to go along with that? Perhaps not, but if I’m to be with Rowan, I want it to be when it isn’t just about adrenaline, blood and death. When it’s about us.

Finally, I finish my practice and I head to the dining hall, with its rows of benches and flickering torches. Already plenty of gladiators are feasting and drinking. Not too much, because we must all fight again tomorrow, but some seem determined to celebrate their survival so far. I see Ravenna sitting at a table with Naia, whispering in close to her. That catches me a little by surprise. While they are both my friends, Naia seemscautious around Ravenna. Maybe it's because the first time I met Ravenna, she manipulated Naia’s mind to get her to leave us alone.

I find something to eat, going to join the two of them.

“What are you two up to?” I ask.

Ravenna smiles. “Just getting Naia here to finish healing the wound I suffered today. On a rugged man, scars might be interesting, but I would rather avoid them.”

I'm sure that's only half the truth at best with her, but I know better than to pry. It's enough that I'm here with my friends, eating and drinking. Eventually I grow tired and head to bed. Rowan has still not finished practicing. Obviously his determination to achieve perfection has counted for more than the prospect of seeing me. Maybe that's a good thing. I would still rather be with him when it's not about the prospect of death.

And, in spite of coming through today, that prospect is still real. I will have to fight again tomorrow. The danger of the Colosseum is not over yet.

Chapter Sixteen

The time to fight comes around again too soon.I stand waiting at the iron gates, my weapons clasped in my hands.I can hear the sound of the crowd out in the arena. I'm one of the first fights today, but already they are baying for blood.

I meant to fight another gladiator today. Meant to fight a human rather than a beast. That makes my nerves jangle because I don't want to spill the blood of somebody I know. I don't even want to do it to a stranger. I will do my best not to kill them, will do everything in my power to show mercy. I'm determined about that today, but I know it will only make the fight harder.

I weigh my net in my hands. The attendants at the Colosseum have repaired it, so that I do not need to worry about the tears in it the chimera inflicted. Perhaps I will be able to ensnare my foe in this net, rendering them helpless. It seems like my best chance.

The iron gates in front of me open, and I can hear the announcer's voice calling my name.

“Lyra the Mistress of Beasts!”

He has appended the nickname without me knowing it is coming. The crowd roars in response. It seems that they liked my first fight. I step out onto the sands, blinking in the light. I can see that the emperor is not there today, but a woman is up in the box that he would normally occupy. She is stern looking, and at first I think she is old and white haired, but no, her features are those of a woman in her mid-thirties. She wears a gown that is also white, embroidered with mystical symbols in silver and gold.

The announcer keeps going. “In the absence of the emperor, this bout will take place under the gaze of Selene Ravencroft,the arch-magistrate. Her gaze and her hand will decide life and death.”

At the word “Death” the crowd cheers again. It’s obvious what they want here.

“Now let us bring out the gladiator Lyra’s opponent, Bracca!”

There is no more than the name, and it is not one I know. A gate at the far side of the arena opens, letting a man out onto the sands. He is larger than me and broad-shouldered, his head shaved. He is not wearing armor, but is carrying a sword and an axe. He moves jerkily, as if he might have been wounded in a previous bout. His eyes seem almost to glow with hatred.

No, wait, there is no almost about it. His eyes are glowing.

He doesn't wait for any command to begin, but charges across the sand at me instead. I move aside from his attack, whipping my net at his legs, tripping him. He gets up and renews his attack, swinging his two weapons in a cascade of blows that I need every reflex to avoid. I reach out as I have in the past for the minds of the birds around the arena. Their additional eyes mean that I see everything, and I'm able to avoid the attacks.

I keep trying to catch him in my net, but he's avoiding it so far, the weapons passing just inches from my flesh with a ferocity that's hard to contain. I use a thrust of my trident to try to keep him at bay, expecting him to move back or at least slow down long enough for me to get clear of him.

Instead, he runs straight onto it, the points embedding themselves deep in him. The force of his rush is so great that I must let go of the trident or find myself in the path of his weapons. He rushes past me, with the trident still sticking from him. It is another second or two before he looks down, seeming to see it for the first time.

He pulls the weapon clear, flinging it to the far side of the arena. As he does so, it is not blood that pours from the wound, but the same glow I saw in his eyes. There is a flicker of powerthen, and I find that the birds I have been relying on to see more of the fight are scattering in every direction, as if something is terrifying them. I must let go of my grip on their senses just so that I can focus on avoiding the next attack.

My opponent is relentless, charging at me again and again, but he seems to be realizing that the tactic isn't working. The glow around him is intensifying as well, seeming to encompass him so that it forms a corona around his flesh. I think I see eyes opening in that wider glow, and I can feel the presence of a creature there.

This is not the fight against another gladiator. Instead I'm facing some kind of beast; something that can possess the body of a gladiator. I reach out for it with my power, and it takes me an instant to realize that in doing so I'm building a bridge.

It is an instant too long.

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