Page 30 of Chained

“Fight,” he says simply. “The more you fight, the more control you have and the more you can influence everything. The procurator believes one gladiator cannot be bigger than thedome.” He looks me up and down. “It’s your time to prove him wrong.”

I set my wings and glare at him.

“There is no escape from the dome.”

“But there is freedom. If you please the crowd, if you push him to offer it,” the captain says. “An ancient bylaw of Tatatunga.” He grins wryly at me. “This place has been here longer than you, Maxym, even if you think it didn’t start until you arrived.”

“I want them all to be free,” I say, hoarsely.

“Even Klynn?”

“Especially that vrexer,” I growl. “If he remains here for much longer, there will be nothing left of the warrior he once was.”

“Then go, fight for your mate, for your freedom, and that of others. I will do the rest,” the captain says, pushing away from the wall and taking a step to the exit.

“Wait.” I touch his shoulder. “Why are you doing this?”

“Unlike the resistance, I have been a gladiator, and I have been free. This place”—he looks up at the darkness above us where the training arena rises towards the dome—“is doomed, as it should be. One way or the other, Tatatunga will be forced to give up its addiction to violence, and about time too.”

Having delivered his cryptic announcement, he walks away from me, his horned head held high.

I stare after him, contemplating my position and the need which rises within me to get back to Cleo.

“Vrexer,” Klynn growls from the shadows of the passage. “You ready?”

“Don’t come any closer,” I warn him.

“I’m saving my claws for the dome,” he responds. “You’re not worth it.”

I shake my head. Klynn is a special case. My rage is born of the injury I suffered. His runs far deeper.

“I’ll see you in the dome, gladiator. And if you attempt to take me, you will regret it,” I growl.

He huffs a hot breath, his eyes glowing unnaturally in the darkness. “I regret nothing,” he says, and with a swish of primaries, he has gone.

I make my way to the ante-chamber. Through the outer doors and the forcefield, I can hear the roar of the crowd. It makes my feathers prick, the thought of the violence seeping into my veins.

All around, the clerks are busy. Those who wish to be armored are having it fitted. Those who require stimulants are getting them. But there’s no sign of the weapons.

“Gak the new armorer!” the head clerk says, hurrying past me. “Where is he?”

A loud clatter at the rear of the chamber announces the arrival of the weapons bots. One after another, the battered square containers judder in, putting me on edge. I see Klynn across the chamber, and he too looks disturbed at their arrival.

Neither of us can stand the things.

Then the scent hits me, pulling my gaze back to the entryway like I’ve had my neck snapped.

Stood, framed in the light, is my mate.

And she is on her own.

CLEO

The ante-chamber is everything Retah said it would be. There is the faint smell of rotting meat covered by a strong antiseptic. The noise of the crowd outside in the dome is clearly audible and echoes around the large space.

It’s filled with numerous clerks, mostly Oykig and smaller, younger Habosu, all wearing the dull green tabards with gold piping denoting their status. They’re bullying and cajoling the gladiators into their armor. But I can’t see Maxym or Klynn anywhere, even as I crane my neck in an attempt to see every corner.

The weapons containers come to a halt and, for the ones which belong to the challengers, their clerks fall on the boxes, flinging them open to claim the weapons inside for their individual charges.

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