Page 5 of Ironhold, Trial Three

Ravenna sighs. “Very well. But this is foolish, Lyra. Not wanting to be friends with me, just because I did what anyone would do under the circumstances.”

“Manipulate me, you mean?” I ask. “Put me in greater danger? And now you’ve tried to control me, Ravenna.”

I hear her sigh again. “Then we will do things the other way, Lyra.”

I can't be here anymore.

“Thank you,” I say to Vesper, and he nods, but I’m already leaving. I have the equipment I need for the Champions Trials. I have all the information that I'm going to get about them, so I retreat from the armory.

I don’t know what’s coming. I don’t have enough information about the Champions Trials. Fear rises in me at the prospect of them. How am I going to survive them? How are any of us?

Chapter Three

The beast pens are one of the most spectacular parts of the fortress. Located beneath Ironhold, they contain cages and holding pens for all kinds of beasts. Some are simple livestock, kept there as food.

Most, however, are dangerous creatures bred or captured for use in the arena. There are giant snakes, armored ironhides with magnificent horns infused with metal, chimeras consisting of parts of multiple beasts, and of course the shadow cats.

I walk over to the pen where one of them is kept. The others are all within cages that are designed to constrain their abilities to walk from one shadow to the next. This particular shadow cat is more docile, however, particularly around me. I go to it and it rubs against me, purring like a kitten.

“I'll never get used to that thing being so friendly,” Stefano, the master of beasts says. His talent is not for controlling beasts, because such a thing would put him in danger in a city that does not value such abilities. Instead, he has the talent for healing, able to undo damage with a touch.

Stefano is a man of middling years, dark haired and with a drooping moustache. He seems to like the way the beasts react to me, taking it as a sign that I belong here. I think he secretly hopes that when I complete my five seasons, I will agree to help him in the pits. I suspect that won't be an option.

“I heard about the Champions Trial,” Stefano says. “I heard you were selected.”

I nod. “I'm not sure what that means.”

“It means you're one of the most popular gladiators in the games,” he replies. “It means people want to see you.”

“Or it means the emperor has decided this is a good way to get me killed,” I point out.

Stefano shrugs. “Or that. But if he really just wanted you killed, he would put you in alone against a half dozen gladiators. No beasts, no tricks, just too many people for you to fight.”

“But that, my dear Stefano, would look too much like an execution.” Alaric says it lightly as he approaches. “And the emperor wants to be seen to be fair.”

“Maybe,” Stefano says. “But you're telling me that if he really wanted her dead, he wouldn’t find a match that she couldn’t win?”

Alaric shrugs. “I have every faith in Lyra’s abilities.”

That's more than I have right now. Around me I can feel the creatures, but it's as if I'm underwater, the pressure of the dampening cuff around my powers preventing me from just reaching out to take control of all of them. With an effort, I might be able to touch one, but no more than that.

“I’ll give the two of you some space,” Stefano says. We often come down here to get away from everyone else. Alaric seems to prefer Stefano’s healing to that of the actual healers within Ironhold, and it’s one place where no one looks for us.

“I saw what happened with Ravenna,” Alaric says, as Stefano leaves. “She was trying to push you?”

I nod. “She just seems to do it naturally. Tries to manipulate everyone she meets.”

“It can make her a good ally,” Alaric points out. “And a dangerous enemy.”

“Are you telling me not to be angry with her? If she hadn't interfered in the last set of games, Naia might still be alive.”

Alaric takes me in his arms. It still feels so strange, him holding me. I had always assumed that anything that happened between us would be brief, fleeting, purely physical. Instead, we still seem to be together in spite of the danger of this place.

“She might,” he admits. “But that doesn't mean that you pick a fight with Ravenna. She's dangerous.”

“So, you want me to pretend to be her friend?” I ask.

Alaric smiles. “As if you would be any good at pretending anything, Lyra. Your face seems to show everything you feel. Which is normally a beautiful trait. For one thing, it means I know when I've done something right around you.”

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