Page 37 of Gods' Battleground

“They are here because of me,” Bella whispered. “They are getting hurt because of me.”

“I know.” I took her hand. “I don’t like watching that either.”

“Then why don’t you put an end to it? Why don’t you bring them away?”

“You know they would never let me do that,” I told her. “You need to trust them. They’re stronger than you give them credit for.”

“I don’t want them to be strong,” she hissed. “I want them to live.”

“And they will.” I gave her hand a squeeze. “We all will.”

“How can you be so confident?”

“I don’t know. Just lots and lots of practice, I guess. And constantly being right.” I winked at her. “Each time the Night Prince’s soldiers bring them away, they pass the Vault. Each time, they gather more intel on the guards’ shifts and patterns.”

“And that door?”

I exhaled. “I’m working on it.”

“It’s taking too long, Leda.” She shook her head. “You have to put an end to this.”

“I will,” I promised her. “I will.”

CHAPTER 12

DEAD AND WOUNDED

My family returned from the battle on stretchers. Like a funeral procession, the guards carried them across the room in a long, single-file line. They set them down on the flimsy, rattly hospital beds arranged in our little corner of the Cell. Bella froze when she saw Gin was dead.

“We have to deal with the others first,” I said, handing Bella her potions kit.

She took the bag, her hands shaking so hard that she nearly dropped it immediately.

“Gin will be ok,” I assured her. “She’ll live again. But Calli, Tessa, and Zane are in pretty bad shape. We really need to get to work on them right away.

Bella blinked once, and then her eyes were sharp and focused again. “Right.” She opened the bag and pulled out a tiny vial filled with dark brown liquid. She handed it to Tessa, “Drink this.”

Tessa grimaced. “It looks like poop.” She drank it anyway. “Oh, yuck!” she coughed, hysterically and repeatedly. “It tastes like poop too!”

Bella passed Calli a vial of bright blue liquid that looked an awful lot like mouthwash. Calli drank it without comment or complaint.

“We won the match,” our foster mother said when she was done drinking. Her tone wasn’t victorious, though. It was tired. And worried.

“Should you really be on your feet?” I said sternly as she rose from the stretcher.

“Probably not.” Calli almost collapsed against the wall, but just managed to hold herself up. “The Beast Prince threw everything he had at us.” The look in her eyes was haunted. “He meant to take us out of the Tournament.”

“I need them patched up quickly,” the Night Prince’s voice buzzed through the speaker mounted to the wall over Gin’s bed. “Your team is scheduled for another match in two hours.”

Bella popped open a big, fat potion bottle and lifted it to Zane’s bloodied lips. He couldn’t sit up in his condition—or move his arms—so she had to hold the bottle while he drank down the bubblegum-pink potion.

“Ms. Pierce, I do not tolerate being ignored,” the Prince hissed.

Calli gave the speaker a long, exaggerated eye-roll. She was in better shape than Zane or Tessa. She could stand—sort of—but there was no way she would become battle-ready in the next two hours. One of her ankles was obviously broken.

I waved her over to me so I could take a closer look at it. She ignored me.

“What you ask is impossible,” Calli told the Night Prince.

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