Page 43 of Gods' Battleground

“Your human sister is battle-ready.” The Night Prince glanced at me, then at Bella, and he nodded. “Yes, that’s just the motivation you need. Just like last time. You will fight to protect your helpless sister.”

Calli was glaring at him like she was debating where best to shoot him for maximum pain. But she didn’t have a gun or any other weapon right now. The Night Prince’s guards always took them off of us as soon as we returned from battle. They also didn’t waste a second reactivating the magic-blocking collars on everyone. Except me, of course. No reason to waste an expensive collar on a ‘human’.

Calli,I transmitted telepathically to her.It’s ok.

No, it’s not ok,she growled.That sociopath wants to put you in danger to draw out Bella’s magic.

I can handle myself. I’m pretty tough,I reminded her.Plus, I have magic.

Magic you won’t use.

It’s all part of the plan.

I’m liking this plan less and less every day, Leda.

Yeah, I know. Me too,I sighed.But we’re so close now. And, actually, it’s good that he’s sending me to fight. I want to get a closer look at that Vault door when the guards escort me to the Magic Mirror Hall.

Fine, but I’m still going to punch him.Calli clenched her fists.

I positioned myself between Calli and the Prince.If any of us attack him, he’ll separate us.

And then we’ll never get the grimoire,added Tessa.

Calli’s right. This plan is terrible. You should just teleport them all to safety, Leda,Bella told me.

We’re staying, Bella,said Gin.We can all see how much the Curse is hurting you. We are going to find a way past the anti-magic field around the Prince’s Vault. And then we’ll grab the grimoire and cure you.

“Show them to their match.” The Night Prince waved his hand, indicating me and Bella.

“Already?” Bella gasped.

“Yes, already. Your opponent is an ancient vampire, powerful and vicious. The odds are stacked terribly against you.” A cruel smile twisted his lips. “You’d better dig deep for your magic, or your sister will die.” He addressed his guards. “Take them away,” he said with a dismissive flick of his hand.

The guards pulled Bella roughly to her feet, and they weren’t gentle with me either. They practically dragged us down the corridor toward the Magic Mirror Hall. As we passed the Vault, I pretended to put up a struggle so I could get a closer look at the security controls. I frowned when I realized entry to the Vault was secured with a hand-scanner. I had a sinking suspicion that only one hand opened that door: the Night Prince’s.

The question was whether the system required his hand to still be attached to the rest of him.

All the mirrors but one in Magic Mirror Hall were covered. The uncovered mirror was glowing brightly, pulsing with magical energy. It trilled like birds in the springtime, a cheerful, unbroken song. Without word or warning, the guards shoved us through the mirror.

This time, the battle arena was an old, medieval-style village, complete with quaint stone cottages and fields of wheat twinkling in the silver moonlight. There was even a big windmill turning lazily in the warm summer breeze.

What there wasn’t was any sign of people, either inside the village or out in the fields beyond. The whole area appeared to be completely abandoned. I didn’t even sense anyone hiding in the houses. I would have heard their heartbeats.

However, there were, inexplicably, old wagons loaded full with fresh fruit crates, pears and plums and enough apples to make a few thousand apple pies. Wooden barrels were stacked in pretty little pyramids throughout the town. They were probably full of beer and spirits—and, very likely, apple cider. All those apples had to go somewhere.

There weren’t any animals. No horses to pull the wagons. No cows mooing in the open barns. No dogs barking for a bone. Not even flies buzzing around our heads. The only buzzing in these parts came from the tiny cameras broadcasting the Tournament live to the princes’ castles.

“This place is like a medieval ghost town,” I commented.

We didn’t even know anything about our opponent, except a few cryptic, foreboding hints that he was a big, mean vampire. Maybe the Night Prince thought the shock of seeing our opponent would jump-start Bella’s killer instincts. Of course he had no idea that her destructive powers had nothing to do with that; the Monster only came out to play during the day.

“I don’t like this,” Bella said quietly as we walked through town.

“Nope,” I agreed, scanning our surroundings, analyzing the arena.

We were just passing an empty bakery that smelled of freshly-baked bread—and, yes, apple pie—when he showed up.

“I am the Vampire King,” he declared, pounding his chest.

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