Page 42 of Ironhold, Trial Three

We keep trading attacks from a distance, each of us looking for a weakness in the other person, but neither of us holding back. I don't think I've ever had a fight like this. Often in my fights I have been taking on someone bigger and stronger, who bulls forward at me, not someone who employs the same strategy as me. It means our fight looks almost like a dance, with our weapons flowing in constant movement, trying to force each other into positions where we won't be able to defend anymore.

The fight is different for another reason, too. For the first time, I am setting out with the intention of killing my opponent. For the first time, I want nothing else other than her death. I can feel my anger and my need for vengeance boiling inside me, and I'm sure they lend me speed as well.

My spear scores a line of blood across Ravenna’s thigh. Her chain brings up gashes on my arm. We are both bleeding now, neither one of us showing signs of slowing down, both of ustrying to weaken the other and create an opportunity for a killing blow. I am used to Ravenna being a passive, manipulative figure, but now she seems like some deadly snake waiting to strike.

I can hear the crowd cheering us on, and they seem to be cheering for each of us almost equally. They may hate what Ravenna has done, but she has ensured that they don't entirely like me either. In any case, what they want most is the fight, the blood, and we are both obliging them. Ravenna's armor protects her from a thrust of my spear. I deflect her dagger with my vambraces. We run at each other, pass in a blur of violence, and then turn to do it again.

I can feel my heart pounding and my breath coming in shorter bursts. Sweat mingles with the blood on me, dripping down onto the sand of the arena. I catch a brief glimpse of the other gladiators watching from the gates leading to the arena. Alaric is there, pressed up against the iron gates, his expression seeming to will me on. I can see the emperor, too, in his box, looking stern and implacable. Does he want me to win? I would be a fool to think that he's on my side. Certainly, he will show me no mercy if I lose.

But I am not thinking about losing, only about finding a way to finish Ravenna.

We are starting to move more slowly now as the fight wears on. It has become clear that the battle will not be decided by some swift burst of violence or sudden tactics, but instead by patience and timing, seeking the moment for the perfect attack. Each of us tries to draw the other out, seeking to lure one another into an overextension that we can exploit.

I have an advantage in one way, because my spear gives me the chance to inflict a finishing wound from a distance. Unless Ravenna can get her spiked chain around my throat, its main purpose is to make me bleed and weaken me until she can come in close with her dagger. I try to focus on attacking her from theend of my spear range, using my weighted chain to distract her, then thrusting. She dodges each attack still.

She kicks up sand towards my eyes. It's enough to make me flinch, but I'm ready for any sudden rush. What I'm not ready for is her whipping her chain around the haft of my spear, ripping it from my grasp and then tossing it aside on the sand.

Now we are more equal. I draw my short dagger, and the two of us could be mirrors of one another, each attempting attacks with our chains, each attempting to find a way to get close enough for a finishing blow.

Ravenna is slowing. I see her fumble the swing of her chain, and I dart into the gap she has left. Too late, I realize it is a trap. She is already moving aside, and her chain wraps around my legs, the agony of the spikes digging into me even as she trips me and sends me sprawling in the sand.

She follows me down not giving me any respite. Her dagger flashes in the sunlight, and I must grab her wrist to keep it from me, using the threat of my own dagger to keep her at bay. She's looming over me, trying to use her weight to drive the dagger down into my chest.

“They're going to cheer for me when I kill you,” she assures me.

I throw myself to one side, rolling on the sand, her dagger digging into the dirt where I was just lying. I kick off her chain from my legs, ignoring the blood that's pouring from the wounds there as I struggle back to my feet.

“I'll take you a piece at a time if I have to,” Ravenna says. “Sooner or later the pain will get too great, and you won't be able to keep me out of your mind anymore.”

As if to punctuate that she renews her mental assault. I fight back, but it's almost too great. I feel the moment when the crow plummets from the sky, dying as I take too much from it. I shrug off the attack but barely.

“I'm going to make you offer up your throat to me,” Ravenna assures me, even as she starts her spiked chain spinning and whirling again.

I know I need to do something, or I'm going to lose this bout. I focus on my own chain, trying to match the rhythm to hers. I set my feet in the sand, knowing that this isn't about hitting and moving anymore. I have to finish this. I can't just let her bleed me little by little until my resistance is gone.

I swing my chain, aiming, not for her, but for her chain. The two tangle in the air, knotting around one another until they seem to form one continuous strand between us. I take hold of my chain firmly and I pull, dragging the two of us closer little by little. Ravenna has the choice now to either let go of her chain or be dragged forward. She chooses the latter, slashing at me with her knife as she comes, but I'm ready for the attack.

I let my armor take the brunt of the blow, not caring about the pain as it carries on to open up my flesh, instead I move closer, inside Ravenna's reach. I thrust upwards with my dagger, underneath her rib cage, up into her heart.

“This is for Naia,” I say, as I drive the dagger deeper.

She gasps, her eyes going wide as I deal the killing blow. She looks as if she is trying to say something, trying to plead. I can feel her power reaching out for me, but it is already fading. I hold her there, transfixed on my knife for a moment, staring into her eyes.

Then I let her go and she falls to the sand, blood pooling around her as she dies. I stand there holding the knife in my hand, and I raise it, the still bloody edge catching the light.

The crowd goes wild in the wake of the kill.

“Lyra! Lyra! Lyra!”

I can hear them chanting my name. I can see the emperor is on his feet, and I bow my head as I salute him, knowing it is required. But mostly I feel numb. I have killed Ravenna. Ihave gotten the revenge I wanted. I have shown myself to be the gladiator the emperor wants, and I have survived my last challenge of the Champions Trials. I should feel ecstatic at that, but I do not feel anything as I walk from the arena.

Chapter Twenty Eight

I have won, but I don’t feel it. I'm aware of the other bouts happening, but I can't bring myself to watch them, and no one tries to summon me to the receiving area of the colosseum. They all seem to sense that I need to be alone.

Finally though I cannot avoid people any longer. It is time for the Champions Trials to close, which means a ceremony in front of the emperor, and stepping back hours into the middle of the arena so that people can celebrate us.

I walk out there with the others, but there are far fewer than when we began these trials. Alaric has survived. So has Vex. Rowan is not here, Because he is still back at Ironhold. Barely a handful of us stand on the sand while the crowd cheers at our entrance.

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