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Fordham was disoriented for barely a breath, but it was all she needed. She launched herself forward, plowing into his solar plexus. The wind knocked out of his chest in a heavy whoosh as she threw him to the ground. His sword fell out of his hand, only a few inches away but it might as well have been a mile from where he lay. Kerrigan used her own blade to launch it even farther from him. But that extra second was enough for him to wrap her up and throw her sideways. They rolled together in the super-heated sand. The increased temperatures burning her bare skin. She gritted her teeth as she reached for an advantage. Her sword was still in her hand, but he’d grasped her arm to stop her from doing anything with it. Sand got in her mouth, and she spat it out in his face. He just laughed as he got her underneath him.
She scrambled with her legs, but they were so much shorter than his. She couldn’t get him wrapped up. He was banging her arm onto the ground to try to dislodge her sword. He hadn’t succeeded yet.
So, she reared back and slammed her forehead into his. She saw little birdies in her vision as everything scrambled inside of her. Fordham cried out and released her arm. She knocked him backward into the sand. She still had her sword in her hand. She knew what she had to do. There was only one option. A quick and easy death that would give her everything she needed to return home.
Kerrigan met Fordham’s eyes. He nodded once. He’d accepted what was coming. Worse, he’d asked her to do it. And still, she didn’t want to do this. She wanted to crawl into a hole and give up. Let someone else save the world. She’d done enough. She’d sacrificed enough. She didn’t have to give up this too. It wasn’t fair. But when had life ever been fair? When did it ever care what she wanted?
She made the move. Her thrust was perfectly timed. Her aim true.
The blade slid harmlessly through shadows.
Kerrigan blinked in confusion.
The crowd was equally dumbstruck. As many cheers for Fordham’s miraculous escape as boos for his deceptive use of magic in a non-magical fight.
But how?
He didn’t have access to his magic any more than she did. The crux bond was held by Iris. And Iris wouldn’t …
Kerrigan turned in a circle and found Fordham standing a few paces away. His hands on his knees, his chest heaving, as if he’d used a miracle to get away in that moment. He hadn’t flexed his magic in months. The pain of keeping it built up inside must have been massive. The first use of it indescribable pain and pleasure all rolled into one.
Iris had loosened his leash. She’d seen what Kerrigan was about to do, and she gave Fordham some free rein to get out of it. She cheated. But this was the ring. There were no consequences. Only death.
Kerrigan had been prepared for that thrust. She would never be prepared again. Just seeing him breathing so. His thunderstorm eyes finally meeting hers. A slow smirk crossing his face.
He held his hand out.
He had his magic back. The realization dawned on her. They could get away. Far enough in that moment to figure out their next move. They didn’t need this tournament any longer.
She moved toward him, as if in a dream. This couldn’t be real. She reached for his fingers, ready to depart this hell.
And then a voice called out above the noise of the arena, “Truce!”
34
The Gift
The crowd silenced as Keres Andromadix, the daughter of He Who Reigns, rose to her full height and spoke for the first time.
“I have declared a truce and cessation of the match,” she said evenly.
Vulsan rocketed from his seat. He stared at his wife in horror. “It is a death match.”
Keres didn’t even look at him. She didn’t acknowledge his outrage. In one sweep of her hand, she had ended the match and she wasn’t about to change her mind.
“I have watched both competitors prove their worth in this competition. Gladiatorial matches are for our entertainment, and I believe the death of either of these competitors would be a travesty for the sport. We would never be able to again see them in their craft.”
“But the prize!” Vulsan snarled.
Still, she didn’t look at him or acknowledge him. A smile came to her face, and the crowd sighed in pleasure at her happiness.
“As for the prize, I have decided to grant both winners the beauty of a Gift from me.”
“It was my prize, Keres,” Vulsan said.
He tried to step around her, but that was too far. She slowly turned her head to meet his gaze. The golden glow of her seemed to intensify until she was nearly blinding. Nothing had changed, and at the same time, everything had changed. Whatever Vulsan saw in that expression must have been enough to make him second-guess himself. He didn’t exactly back down, but his lips thinned, his shoulders straightened, and he said nothing else.
