Page 30 of Ironhold, Trial Three

“How did you arrange it?”

Ravenna is the one to ask the question, down beneath the colosseum, as she comes back from her bout.

The bout was short because her opponent wasn't strong enough to ward off the powers that she used against him. It didn't take her long to lure him to the edge of one of the higher points of the temple. She placed a kiss on his lips and then pushed him backwards, to fall.

Even then the bout wasn't done, because her foe was injured not killed. I had to watch as Ravenna walked down almost casually, giving the emperor a look and waiting for his decision.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!” The chanting of the crowd was almost at fever pitch as the emperor held out his hand, thumb down to signal death.

Ravenna didn’t hesitate, just drew her dagger across her opponent's throat. I find myself wondering if the battle would have gone the same way if Rowan hadn't cheated death. Is the emperor taking out his anger on the other gladiators who lose now?

“Arrange what?” I counter.

I wish Alaric were here to back me up, but he has gone to start his preparations for his bout. He will be fighting soon. It will be his turn, and noble or not, there is not likely to be much mercy out there if he fails.

I can see the other gladiators who are not preparing for their bouts looking over at me with suspicion. Even the ones who are not my enemies seem to be unhappy with me.

“Oh, there's no need to be coy,” Ravenna says. “It was obvious throughout your fight that neither of you was really trying to kill the other, were you?”

I can't tell her the truth about that, which is that she's right, just not for the reason she's insinuating.

“I don't answer to you, Ravenna,” I snap back at her.

“And then there's the interference in your bout over the flames,” Ravenna says. “It seems you're determined to get through this without ever having an honest fight.”

“And what would you know about that?” I demand, confronting her. “All you do is manipulate people and mess with their minds.”

Ravenna smiles. It's easy to forget just how beautiful she is, how deep it's possible to fall into her eyes.

“Wouldn't this conversation work better if you were on your knees, Lyra?” She whispers, and of course she's right. How could she be anything but right? Ravenna is the most beautiful and powerful of all of us, so naturally, I fall to my knees.

“That's enough,” one of the trainers snaps, and Ravenna's spell over me breaks.

She smiles again. “Just a reminder that you're not immune to what I can do. It's not a parlor trick. And if we face one another out there, you will kneel happily while I cut your throat. Won’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, before I can stop myself.

The other gladiators there laugh at that. Ravenna has proved her point about how powerful she is. She has also stopped me from refuting any of her allegations about me and Rowan. I'm sure that everyone there thinks now that we arranged the whole bout between us, that we rehearsed every step of it.

I have no doubt, as I get back to my feet, that the match between us looked bad. Rowan refused to engage for so much of it that even my attempts to attack him looked fake. I was throwing myself forward at him, and he wasn't replying with attacks for much of the fight.

“I wonder how many people are asking for their coin back on that fight?” Ravenna asks. “I wonder how much they will hate you for it, for costing them money?”

I wince because I know she's right. Betting is a huge part of the arena. People love to place their coin on their favorite gladiators, and hope that they succeed, or to bet against those they think are weak. The outcome of this bout might displease almost everyone. The sensible gamblers who know about us will have put their money on Rowan, because he is simply stronger than me, at least with my powers restricted. Even those who bet on me for reasons of sentiment or because they thought I would find a way to win might not be happy now, because there's a chance the bookmakers will refuse to pay out on a bout that looks so obviously fixed.

“Who did you put your money on, Ravenna?” I ask. I know that she likes to make money on the games. She likes the way her manipulations can build wealth and power for her, even from within the walls of Ironhold. “Who did you tell your noble friends to back?”

She smiles again. “I already made my money. Did you know that you can bet on what the matchups will be? People think they know the minds of the organizers.”

And she does. Again, I can't shake the feeling that she has some kind of control here. She's certainly hinting at it, but without any proof, what can I do? It's just another way of making me feel helpless.

Ravenna turns to leave, but pauses and turns back. “I wonder, since Rowan is technically the loser of this bout, will they allow these trials to count towards his freedom?”

It's just another way for her to twist the knife. It hadn't occurred to me that Rowan might have done more than injure himself to save me. He has survived his bout against me but if he can't continue, he won't come through the Champions Trials,and he won't get the extra season marked off on the brand on his shoulder.

Again, the thought of it makes me feel sick. Ravenna is finding any way she can to hurt me. Maybe she thinks that if she does it enough, I will come crawling to her, begging to be her ally. At this stage, though, it mostly just makes me angrier with her.

“Could they do that?” I ask the trainer who split us up.

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