Page 32 of Ironhold, Trial Four

Then something bright and shining appears from his throat, jutting out towards meeven as redness sprays from him. It takes me a second to realize thatit is the tip of a knife. Another second and I realize that I am not imagining Alaric. He must have followed me here, must have realized where I was going to go, and now he is stabbing Callus again, this time through the heart.

Callus looks so shocked by the attack. He turns, flailing at Alaric as if he might use his power on him, but he doesn't come close. Instead he collapses, so that he and I are lying near one another, staring into one another's eyes in the moments before he dies. I see the light fade in him.

And it is the last thing I see because then darkness claims me too.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

I wake with a healer standing over me, although they are not using magic to heal me, which suggests that my life is not in immediate danger. The healers of Ironhold like to save their powers for those injured in the colosseum, making sure they will be able to fight again as quickly as possible.

I gasp and sit upbecause my last memory is of the fightI was having with Callus. Of him stalking me through the beast pens. Of him draining me almost to the point of death.

Of Alaric saving me, by killing him.

“Where am I?” I ask, looking around. But I can see the answer to that: I'm in the infirmary of the fortress, in there with a couple of injured gladiatorsand some healers. I feel weak and dizzy, barely possessing the strength to move.

I try to stand and the healer pushes me back down.

“Not unless you want to collapse,” he says. “You need to wait. You need to heal properly.”

But I don't want to lie there, don't want to simply weights and rest when I have so many questions I don't have answers to.

“What happened to Alaric?” I ask. “To Callus?”

I need to check that he's dead. I thought I saw the light fade from his eyes, but there's always a chance that someone got to him in time and healed him.

“You should worry more about yourself,” the healer says. “After what happened I wouldn't be surprised if you end up executed.”

“Executed?” The shock of that hits me all at once, because I realize just how serious the situation is. Callus is dead, obviously killed by violence, and the same rulethat has protected me from him will count against me and Alaric now: it is forbidden to kill one another outside of official bouts. Breaking that rule cansee someone killed, in turn, as a way of maintaining discipline within the fortress. If we are not careful and lucky, both Alaric and myself might find ourselves executed.

“No,” I say. “It wasn't like that. Callus was the one trying to kill me! Where is Alaric?”

The healer doesn't answer, and this time I succeed in rising, pushing past his attempts to return me to lying down. I make it to the door and outinto the corridors of Ironhold.

“Wait!” The healer calls out. “You aren't allowed to just go!”

But I don't listen to him. I need to find Alaric. I need to know that he is still alive and safe. That he has not just been cut down immediately by the guards or dragged to an impaling spike to suffer an agonizing death.

I make my way through the corridors of Ironhold, passing by the flickering torches. It must be the early hours of the morning, with the majority of people still asleep. I don't even know how I got to the infirmary, but that's not important right now. What matters is that Alaric is in danger, and I must see him.

Right now all our arguments seem petty by comparison to what’s happening. I accused him of not caring for me, but he has donesomething that no one else would have done for me. He hasn't just saved my life, he has potentially given up his own to do it. By killing Callus, he has put himself on the wrong side of a rule that appears to allow for no forgiveness.

I must speak with him. I must know why he did that, and I must try to find a way to help him. I keep going through Ironhold, heading deeper into the parts of the fortress reserved for the punishment of those gladiators who try to rebel against its rulesand its training.

These parts bring back unpleasant memories for mebecause I have been punished before. Vex once arranged for Arctus to attack me in the dining hall and ensured that Lord Darius would walk in in the middle of it. My punishment was agonizing, andI hadn't been the one to start the fight. That memory makes me worry here because it suggests that merely being attacked is not going to be enough of a defense against whatever accusations are levelled at me and Alaric.

I keep looking for him, checking each room as I go. Most are empty except forthe implements of punishment and torture, the whipping posts and the rows of canes, whips and hot irons, the racks and the sharpened hooks. This is not a place to spend anytime if I can avoid it, and the prospect of Alaric being in one of these rooms makes me shudder with fear.

Why did he kill Callus? Why was he there at allto be able to do it? The answers to both of those questions feel the same: because he loves me. Alaric has spent his time trying to hide his feelings, trying to spare me the pain that will come when he leaves or if one of us is killed, but when it came to it, he was prepared to kill to save me. Prepared to give up his life for me, because he must know the penalties for killing another gladiator like this.

I keep looking for him, and now I can hear feet somewhere behind me. I look around and I see both guards and trainers behind me, holding whatever weapons they've been able to grab, as if they fear I am some wild beast they will need all their efforts to subdue.

“There she is!” one calls out. “I told you she was trying to escape!”

“I'm not trying to escape,” I say. “I'm just trying to find Alaric.”

“Trying to get your story straight, are you?” one of the guards says. “Well, it's a bit late for that. He already told us what he did when he brought you back for healing.”

No, he can't have. He wouldn't have been foolish enough to simply tell the guards everything, would he? To admit openly to killing another gladiator? There must have been a better way forhim to do this. He saved my life by bringing me to the healers, butcouldn't he have madeup a story about finding me collapsed?

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