Page 22 of Ironhold, Trial Three

“Kill, kill, kill!” The chant seems to come from nowhere, but soon it is all-encompassing, filling the space, making it hard to concentrate even as I need to focus more to hold off Malira’s furious assault.

Another of her attacks succeeds in wounding me. It is another scratch, but it only means more blood falling onto the platform, the crowd shouting its approval at the sight of me in pain. I know I'm going to have to fight back more if I'm going to survive. I can't just stand and defend, but I'm not sure I have time to do anything else.

Forced closer to Malira, all I can do is try to match the rate of her attacks, interposing my weapons whenever I can, feeling the impact on my partial armor whenever I cannot. Even when I parry the blows, the hits are jarring. I try to counterattack, because I know if I don't I'm just going to die, but I have to turn even that movement into another parry.

Somewhere in it all I lose the sight from the bird. I see a small shape plummet from the sky. The bird falls into the flames and is consumed. That is a fresh pain, because I know I'm responsiblefor it. In my desperation to survive, I have reached out in the way that Lady Elara showed me. I have taken too much from it, and in taking I have killed it.

I don't have any time to worry about the bird though. It is my own survival that is in question. I spin my chain, trying to entangle Malira’s weapon, but she moves it out of the way and turns the movement into another attack. I thrust my spear towards her heart, but she deflects the blow and keeps coming.

She is relentless, and now there is so little space on the platform that we are almost forced to fight toe to toe. Malira snarls at me and pushes me, shoving me back towards the edge. I teeter on the precipice, the heat of the flames below me almost impossible to withstand. Another few inches and I will plummet into them, and I have already seen what that could do. Even if I survive somehow, I will be badly burned.

Malira smiles with savage delight at my predicament, using broad sweeps of her sword to keep me on the edge of the platform. She seems to know that if it keeps shrinking, I will be brought into range, and she can push me to my doom.

In an instant, there are three of me there on the edge, all moving, all ready to fight. I gasp as I realize that someone has thrown an illusion up over me. I look over Malira’s shoulder and I see Alaric standing next to Vesper. Vesper must be boosting his power to let him send an illusion out like this to help me, when normally he can only summon illusions around himself.

The risk he is taking is immense. They are both risking a lot. If the emperor decides that they are interfering in the bout more than they should, they will face punishment for this. They might even be executed. But still they are doing it. Multiple versions of me now line up against Malira.

She curses and charges. And in that moment, she guesses wrong. She swings her sword straight through one of the illusory copies, and that gives me the only opening I'm going to get inthis fight. I shove into her, hitting her with my full weight, and she stumbles to the precipice of the platform, struggling to keep her footing even with her abilities.

Then she drops, falling into the flames with a scream that rings out even above the cries of the crowd. They roar in appreciation of the nature of the victory, even as Malira screams in pain and rolls through the flames, trying to get to safety. Healers are running to her, pulling her from the flames, but I can already see the burns covering her.

I feel sick at the sight of it, but I know if I did anything else, I would be the one there. That, or she would have killed me outright.

Even as I think it, the platform comes to a halt. I find myself looking up at the emperor's box. I can see Lord Darius up there, apparently remonstrating with the emperor. He looks furious. The emperor holds up a hand for silence. Is this the moment when he will condemn me for Alaric's interference? Will he condemn all of us?

“I declare the gladiator Lyra the victor of this bout,” he says. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. He has decided I'm the winner. He says nothing about the manner of my victory.

Some in the crowd boo, but many more are cheering. Because that's the truth of the games. The crowd aren't interested in fairness, or in the niceties of the combat. In this moment they're only interested in the fact that I have pushed someone out into the flames.

As soon as the bridge is back connected to the platform, I hurry over it. Alaric is there waiting for me.

I am grateful for that, but I’m also worried about the danger he might just have put himself in by helping me.

Chapter Fifteen

Most of the healers are busy working on Malira, so Alaric takes me to the beast pits instead. Stefano is waiting for us, as if expecting that this is where I will come following such a fight. The middle-aged master of beasts uses his talent for healing, laying his hands on my wounds and sealing them with magic.

“I’m so glad you survived,” Alaric says, as soon as Stefano leaves us alone. He puts his arms around me. For all his jealousy, in moments like this he is tender.

“Thanks to you,” I say, because I know it was his illusion that saved me. “But you put yourself in danger doing it. If someone proves that you were the one who created the illusory copies… interference in the games is a serious crime.”

“If they can prove it,” Alaric says. “Everyone knows my magic extends only near me.”

“Vesper helped you,” I say.

Alaric nods. “I still don't understand what he wants with you. I still don't trust him, but he helped with this.”

“You still put yourself in immense danger. Everyone knows that creating copies of yourself is one of your favorite tricks, and if they know about the relationship between us… they might execute you for something like this Alaric, noble or not.”

The city sees the games as a holy thing. To interfere in them with magic is not just criminal, it is blasphemy.

"I couldn't let you die," Alaric says. He touches his head to mine, holding me. "And my guess is that the emperor won't go against the crowd on this. They loved the way you finished the fight. They don't care that you had help. So he won't push it further. Combine that with a lack of proof, and… it should be fine."

‘Should be’ doesn't sound good enough when it's a question of Alaric's life. For that, I want certainty.

“Can we stay here?” I ask him.

Alaric smiles, holding me. “For a little while. At least while the other fights last. But then you know we must go and be admired by the nobles.”

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