Page 9 of Ironhold, Trial Four

She puts her finger to her lips before I can finish asking about the spectral covenant. She's right. In this place, we can't be open about what we say. There is still a chance that the trainer is listening in, trying to hear something salacious. If he hears that she is a beast whisperer, or he learns about the presence of the spectral covenant, the group that aids them, it is likely that Lady Elara will not be permitted to leave Ironhold alive.

“This is not about our mutual friends,” she whispers to me. “Although they continue to do their work, and you mustcontinue yours. It is vital that the people love you, for when the moment is right to act.”

I nod. I know that part of her plans: to have a beast whisperersucceed openly in the games, gaining the love and favor of the crowd, showing that we are not the wild untamed animals that people think we are, thanks to the stories the emperor has spread. When they try to remove the emperor, they want a figure the people will follow.

“But I have news,” Lady Elara says. “When I heard it, I knew you would want to know, and I didn't think I could wait until the next set of games to tell you. I didn't want you to think I was holding anything back from you.”

Which means it's not good news. Whatever it is, it's the kind of news where I would blame her if she doesn't tell me.

“What is it?” I ask, a catch in my voice.

“It's about Seatide. Your old home.”

I don't ask how Lady Elara knows where I'm from. That seems to be common knowledge these days. But something about her home makes my heart pound in my chest, fear starting to fill me. Whatever this is, it's serious enough that she felt the need to come here to tell me.

“What is it?” I repeat.

“There have been bandit attacks,” she says, obviously picking her words carefully. “A group of them has started to target the village. They attack travelers nearby. They raid in the night. They take people.”

“Slavers?” I ask.

“That's what I thought when I heard the rumors at first,” she says. “It's only natural that when such people learn that there is an undefended corner of the empire, they might attack it.”

“But?” Because it's obvious there is some caveat to this.

“But slavers would hit the village once and then leave. They would take everyone of value, everything of value, and then theywould leave before anyone could retaliate. It's how they work. They make their money by selling people on, not by staying in one place to attack again and again. Certainly not by picking people off one at a time.”

“Unless there's only a few of them, and they can onlydo it this way,” I suggest.

“I considered that as well, but there's an aspect that doesn't fit.”

“What kind of aspect?” I ask. The gravity of her tone suggests that she hasn't told me the worst part yet.

“They aren't just taking people to sell. People have been going missing, young women mostly. They've been found the next day, tortured and killed in the worst ways.”

That doesn't make any sense. Bandits would rob people, maybe even capture them to sell, but this… this is different somehow and more horrific. My home is under attack. Someone is killing the people of Seaside, the people of my home…

… and I'm stuck here, unable to do anything about it.

CHAPTER SIX

There is one place I always gowhen I'm upset, one place I'm guaranteed to find comfort, and sadly that place is not Alaric’s rooms these days.

Instead, I walk down through Ironhold, heading for the beast pens. The scent of them hits me before anything else, in a mixture of dung andwarm earthy smells, the wet fur of animals, the occasional smell of blood from the meat they're being fed.

I hear the creatures next, with everything from hisses to roars echoing along the corridors. The sound is accompanied by the feeling of the creatures. Without the dampener on my wrist, I would be able to pick them up from anywhere in Ironhold. As it is, I must be closerto start to sense them, their minds and their essences, their emotions and their needs. I can feel the ones that are hungry, or angry, the ones that are briefly contented, the ones that are still hurt after bouts. I think they sense me as well, a thread of connection reaching out to them.

I move down into the beast pens, and now I see the creatures. They are spectacular, some of them kept in pens, some in cages, some restrained with chains that glow with magical runes. There is a giant snake, easily big enough to swallow a person whole. There are chimeras constructed using magic from parts of different animalsand bred just for fighting. There is a rhinoceros like ironhide, its hide and horninfused with the metal of its name.

And there are shadow cats. Most of them are kept in cagesenchanted to stop them from escaping by leaping from shadow to shadow, but one has a pen to itself, and rests there now, on its side, its silky black fur glisteningin the torchlight. I can see Stefano the master of beastsa little way away working witha horse like thunder hoof, using his talents for healing tohelp the creature. He is a burly man in his fifties, with thinning dark hair and a mustache. He nods to me as I enter. By this point he is used to me being in his domain, and seems happy enough for me to be here.

I approach the shadow cat in the pen, moving slowly. It rises as I do so, slinking towards me, disappearing through one shadow and appearing next to me. That is how the creatures hunt, and it makes them deadly, something to be feared. Except that this one purrs as it rubs against me, letting me run my fingers through its fur. It is almost fully grown now, almost as big as the others in the pens, yet it still reacts to me as if it is a kitten and I am its mother. I connected to italmost as soon as I arrived at Ironhold, and it has wanted to be by my side ever since.

“What am I going to do?” I whisper to the creature, trying to make sense of everything that is happening. Lady Elara’s news is troubling. Is it a coincidence that bandits have started to attack Seatide? Are they even bandits if they're just killing people? It feels as though something more is going on, but I don't know what.

My instinct is that I must be there, but I cannot be there because I am trapped within this fortressfor at least two more sets of games. I am not free to go to my people, to my family, however much I wish I could.

The pain of that hits me in a way that it has notfor some time now. I thought I had grown used to the idea that I was not free. That I have no choice other than to fight. Now though, I weep silent tearsat the thought of everything I'm powerless to stop.

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