Page 122 of The Only Way Out Is Up

“We can do this.” I squeeze her arm, briefly, and she gives me a fleeting smile. We walk the last few meters to the big door and wait for it to open.

THIRTY-EIGHT

As we walk in, I can see straight across the arena. Our opponents are spreading out, Gestian to our left, Vripiai and Quech to our right. Apparently they’re thinking along the same lines, keeping the two fights separate in spite of Alzimyth’s whimsical decree. But if Vripiai beats Star it’ll have no trouble crushing Ky. As if I needed more pressure.

Ky’s breath comes fast, and her hand is tight on her sword. Her eyes are locked on Gestian, and when I touch her shoulder she nearly starts out of her skin. She looks up at me with wide blue eyes.

“Don’t die, all right?” I tell her.

“I know. I’m not going to leave you in the lurch—”

“No. I mean, that too, but just…” I swallow and squeeze her shoulder. “Don’t die?”

“Oh.” She quirks her lip in a half smile. “Okay. You too.”

“Do my best.”

Ky jogs off toward Gestian, snapping her sword open. On the other side of the arena, Vripiai is coming in fast, with Quech sauntering behind.

I may not be able to stay close, so remember the plan.

[Tenderness: don’t die, meat creature.]

Yeah, yeah. You know you’d miss me.

[Analysis: possibly. Briefly.]

Let’s not get sappy. I hesitate, then clench my jaw. If you get a shot at Quech, take it.

[Anticipation: oh, I intend to.]

“Been waiting for this!” Quech calls out as he approaches. “I think these Hod fighters are worse than the ones on Malkuth. ‘Honor’ this and ‘It’s not done’ that. You, at least, understand.” He gives me a broad, mad grin. “Winning is all that matters.”

Vripiai lunges, terrifyingly fast. Star leaps aside, and the snake’s head slams into the stone where he was standing, raising a cloud of dust and splinters. Quech laughs.

“You’ve learned something!”

But Star isn’t finished. His arc takes him against one of the piles of crates, and he uses the surface to quickly reverse direction, sailing over Vripiai’s coils. One of his legs slashes down as he passes, leaving a sparking rent in Vripiai’s enamel coat. The snake’s tail stabs after him, but Star is already well out of range, skidding on all eight legs across the stone.

“One of us learned something, anyway,” I say.

Quech is no longer smiling.

From the other side of the arena, I hear the skirl of blades. Ky and Gestian circle each other, cautious, almost stately. At intervals the two crescents of razor-sharp steel lick out and meet between them. I have no idea who’s winning, and little time to wonder.

Quech mutters orders, and Vripiai lunges after Star. The snake alternates lunges with lightning-quick jabs with its spiked tail, the coils of its body winding sideways to keep both weapons in play. Star ducks and dodges, retreating and leaping back in, but he can’t get close enough to land a serious hit.

So far so good. Wait for an opening.

[Alarm: watch yourself!]

Quech is coming for me, breaking into a charge, his arms spread wide as though for an embrace. I scramble backward. Every instinct screams at me to keep my attention on Star’s fight, but I finally have to turn and run.

I can handle him!

[Doubt: his biceps are thicker than your head.]

Just stay on the snake.