Page 54 of A Song of Shadow and Starlight

"Your defending champions," the announcer bellows, invigorating the already pumped crowd, "Makas…!"

The troll with the whip steps forward and lifts his scarred arms in the air. His face is tragic looking and is proof he's survived eighty-three matches. The audience cheers, their roars thunder across the Necropolis.

"…and Uranji!"

The second troll with brass knuckles pumps his fists in the air and conjures louder praise from the spectators, if that's even possible. The Necropolis is deafening. I feel my heart lodged inside my throat, and it takes every bit of courage I have left to fend off a panic attack.

"Let the battle begin!"

I rack my brain, trying to remember every move Nyx taught me, and even though I'm completely unprepared for a match of this magnitude, I pray to the Father that I make it out of this arena alive and preferably in one piece.

"Don't give up," I look at Rashi who is visibly trembling. "Don't you dare give up! Do you hear me?"

Rashi doesn't spare me one glance. As soon as Maka and Uranji start sprinting toward us, my partner drops his sword and falls to his knees, as if begging for mercy or being unarmed will save him from losing his head.

"Get up!" I scream, clutching the hilt of my sword tighter. "Rashi, get up!"

But the troll won't listen. Instead, he holds his hands up in surrender, muttering something I can't understand. Uranji's eyes are crazed, as if he knows there's prey that won't fight back.

I run to Rashi and try to yank him up on his feet, but he pushes me away and I fall to the dusty ground. I look up and see fear in his eyes.

"Please," I whisper. "Rashi, don't give up."

The ground beneath me rattles as Makas and Uranji close in on us. Rashi picks his sword up, and a spark of hope lights within me, but to my dismay and horror, he tosses the blade toward me and closes his eyes, awaiting his end.

I scream, reaching for the magic itching beneath my skin, and envelop Rashi in a golden bubble right as Uranji cocks his hand back and swings his brass knuckles for the troll's neck. His fist slams against my barrier and sends Uranji flying backward upon impact.

Distracted with keeping Rashi safe, I am blind to Makas making his way toward me. He cracks his whip against my thigh, slicing it. I shriek in pain, and the crowd cheers on their champions; cheer for our deaths. Showing no mercy, Makas takes another swipe at me and catches the same leg with his whip, tearing into my flesh and bloodying my pants. The sting is excruciating, and I lose focus on the shield protecting Rashi. The force field fizzles, and I watch in horror as my partner is viciously punched repeatedly in the chest. Blood spurts from Rashi's mouth and the cracking of his ribs can be heard all around the arena.

"No!" I wail, but there's nothing I can do to help him now. I failed to keep him alive, I failed to keep my shield of protection around him. But in training, I was never pushed to this level. I am still trying to harness my power and adding pain to the mix clearly unraveled me.

Uranji grabs Rashi's limp and broken body and with the hooting and applause growing in intensity, he walks to the edge of the island and throws Rashi into the lava.

With just me standing between Makas and Uranji and their eighty-fourth victory, they set their sights fully on me. Even though I feel my magic straining to keep up, I ignore the pain shooting through my leg, and throw up my golden forcefield to protect myself from their incoming blows. The one with brass knuckles punches like a madman and Makas repeatedly strikes my shield with his whip, but as long as I can hold on, I will stay alive. The crowd is booing me, calling me a coward, and wishing me dead. They'd get their wish too, if I didn't have magic. My magic doesn't seem to take any of them by surprise, but then again, I'm new to the magical world, and they might have seen poor souls use what little magic they possessed to protect themselves until they ultimately met their end.

Neither Makas nor Uranji show any signs of tiring or yielding anytime soon, so I'll have no choice but to attack. My strength is faltering, so I need to strike hard and fast. I take a deep breath and let them hit my shield once more before dropping it and blasting them across the arena with my magic.

Neither one moves and even the crowd's jeers fall to a hush. Did I kill them? Did I actually win?

They groan and slowly get back on their feet. I drop my head; I'm exhausted. I have maybe one good blast left in me, but I'll have to time it right. This is a fight to the death and as opposed as I am to the idea of killing someone, I'm beginning to realize that if I want to survive, I'll have to bloody my hands. If it's me or them, I'll always choose myself.

Both trolls are back on their feet. The one with the whip charges toward me while the other one seems to be gathering himself. Makas slashes his whip at the same moment I blast a ball of light at him. I land my blow square to his chest, and he flies off the edge of the island, down to the lava below. My victory is short-lived because I'm suddenly yanked off my feet and dragged toward the edge of the arena where the troll fell. The tip of his whip is wrapped around my ankle, and as his final act, he makes sure to pull me in with him. I frantically claw to untie it and manage to uncoil the whip before falling over. I'm hanging on for dear life, trying to pull myself back up. The crowds' cheers are once again deafening. They smell blood in the water, and I'm the sacrifice.

Stomping toward me is the last troll. Uranji hovers above me, a menacing pointy-tooth grin stretches across his dirty, green face. He glances at my arms, the only thing keeping me from the lava below, and I see it in his beady eyes before he does anything. Lifting his giant foot, intent on crushing my forearms, he suddenly shrieks and claws at his head. He backs away, clutching his temples like something is attempting to burrow out.

I capitalize on the distraction and hoist myself back up to safety. I watch as the troll screams. Blood oozes out of his ears, eyes, and nose. A gruesome, unholy sight, and I have no explanation for it. I glance down at my hands, positive it's not my magic's doing. With one final agonizing howl, the troll's head explodes from the inside out and his guts spritz across the arena.

I vomit at the horrifying sight, but the crowd erupts in cheers and thunderous applause. They must think I did this to their reigning champions, but there's no way I'm responsible.

"And your new champion is the girl with -"

The announcer's gurgled whimpers echo over the microphone. I look up at the podium and see a shadow sword sticking through his chest before his attacker kicks him in the back, sending him toppling into the lava with a splash.

Atlas. He came for me.I will always find you, Princess.

Tears bubble within me. I'm relieved to see him, and in tremendous pain, but I stifle those emotions. This is not the place to weep. This is the time to fight and escape.

I watch in awe as Atlas slices through anyone who rushes toward him with weaponry. Heads fly off their shoulders, bodies are split in half at the waist, limbs are severed from their place. He's a one-man army and he is shaking this underworld to its core to get me back.

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