Page 36 of Gladiator Moon

I rub my temples. “I need to find that sword.”

Yes, Sam. And kill their Dark One.

I laugh softly. “You make it sound easy.”

It will not be easy, as you well know. But it is likely your only way home.

“Last time I had a lot of help.”

When Ishmael finally speaks, there is genuine sadness in his voice.

You will figure it out.

And then the warmth around me begins to fade.

“Ishmael?”

You are not alone, Samantha.

“Easy for you to say.”

A pause. Then, with the faintest hint of amusement: You have never been alone.

Miraculously, in a feat that defies gravity, the feather suddenly lifts from the water... then vanishes before my eyes.

As does my connection with Ishmael.

Chapter Thirteen

Back at the abandoned hayloft, I nudge Azul awake.

“Yes, vampire warrior?”

“Please, just call me Samantha,” I command him.

“Very well. I assume you want something?” he snaps, annoyed.

I next compel him to be more cheerful and subservient.

“How can I be of service, Samantha?” He gives me a small bow. Oops, maybe a little too subservient. Oh, well. Being bowed to isn’t the worst thing to see, and yeah, making another living creature perform such a humbling act feels wrong. Then again, I am here against my will and being forced to fight for my life. I just need to survive and get home. So yeah, this little twerp can bow to me and hold his tongue, though he is hardly the reason why I’m trapped out here. Still, he looks like Baltazar, and that’s enough to annoy me.

“Have you ever heard of a sword powerful enough to kill the Dark One?” I ask him. “Apparently, it was used here during the Games, likely from a being of a more angelic nature.”

“My dear, Samantha. I can answer your question with some degree of certainty: any and all relics procured from the Games are held within the arena itself, in a special armory. Our king and those who run the games are very eager to display the weaponry of the fallen.”

“Protected by magic, I assume.”

“You assume correctly.”

“You may not be powerful enough to remove the teleportation spell, but I am willing to bet you are powerful enough to get me to that armory.”

Azul smiles at me, if the gash quivering at the lower half of his face is indeed a smile. “Most wizards know enough to understand the spells behind such protection wards; indeed, I may not know the exact counter spell, but I can lift it, giving you access, though it will cost me my life. They will, of course, kill me painfully and publicly. I will be disemboweled slowly.”

“I will not let them hurt you, Azul.”

“Bless you, Moon Warrior.”

“Sam is fine.”