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He scrutinized me a moment longer, his gaze flicking to Daeary and Dyf, who stood next to me, making me look like a child, no doubt.
Then he shrugged and gave us each a metal token. “Your funeral.”
He pointed at the door next to his booth, and we were in.
Chapter twenty-nine
BETH
Isweptpasttheman into the belly of the arena, the two Fae in tow. My nerves were alight with adrenaline. I was ready for this, whatever it was. I took a deep breath, my stomach fluttering with nerves and anticipation. Another huge step toward clearing my name and getting out of here, but there was so much that could go wrong.
What had possessed me to volunteer for this? The guys had had no choice, but I could have walked away. Now it was too late. But I also knew I’d be forever looking over my shoulder because as long as I lived, I’d be a danger to my uncle. He couldn’t afford to let me go. This was my Hail Mary.
Behind me, Daeary and Dyf towered over me, shielding me from the light shining in through the entrance. Before me were the dark outlines of huge men, even the malnourished Fae taller than me. There was no turning back now. Behind us, more contestants pushed forward, and a surge of bodies carried us forward.
For a few seconds, I succumbed to panic, my breath whooshing out of me as my stomach cramped. A firm hand on my shoulder kept me upright while I put one foot in front of the other in near total darkness. I focused on the connection until the terror subsided.
We walked for several minutes, surrounded by silent strangers. The only noises were the odd sniffling or coughing. Then we entered a huge, windowless room, lit by torches. It smelled bad in here, like a highschool gym, only much worse.
In the corner lay a heap of clothes encrusted with dark stains. There was the coppery stink of blood, and how fucked up was it that I knew that? Guarding the exit at the far side was a Fae in full leather armor. He handed out weapons, slapping each person’s shoulder as they passed him.
I shuffled in line, moving forward step by step. When it was my turn, he looked down at me and flinched. “Who in the name of the Goddess let you in? You’re human. And tiny.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I muttered, ignoring his confused look.
He held out a huge sword, but when he realized that it was nearly as long as I was tall, he shook his head. “I am not sure I have a weapon to suit you, little one.”
“Maybe a bidog?” I asked. Bleddyn had taught me the basics of blocking and attacking with the tiny sword. The guard was still shaking his head. He put the longsword down and stepped outside into the tunnel. There were the sounds of rummaging, and finally, he returned with a bidog and a leather shield.
“I found one. I wish you luck, although I fear you will only last until the first male cleaves the head off your pretty shoulders. Pity.”
My stomach dropped into my knees, although I was sure he only tried to scare me. The man outside had mentioned riddles and fighting monsters. Daeary growled behind me. “Fear not. We will protect her.”
The soldier’s expression turned guarded. “Of course. Good luck to your cariad.”
He handed a sword and shield each to Daeary and to Dyf. Both accepted the weapons with a grunt, and then we were out of the room in another tunnel.
Ahead, a crowd of contestants waited for a giant gate to open. A roar on the other side made the hairs on my neck stand up. This was getting very real. There were hundreds of onlookers waiting for us to fight.
Swallowing convulsively, I rubbed my sweaty hand against my pants. I still wasn’t sure what we were expected to do in the trials. Probably show off our sword-fighting skills, like the ones Bleddyn had taught me. I was quick and smart, and Dyf and Daeary could take care of any monsters. We’d be fine.
Dyf stood impassively, scanning the contestants. Then he turned to me. “I want you to stay behind us at all times. The demon and I are skilled enough to keep you safe. Much blood will flow, but it will not be ours.”
I stared at him, not sure I’d heard him correctly. “What do you mean? It’s just a competition, right?”
Now it was his turn to look at me as if I had two heads. “You humans confound me. It is a competition to the death. Only the top tier will be allowed to join the ranks of Eryr Eyra.”
“To the death?” I repeated, my voice squeaking with shock. Oh my God, how stupid was I? Of course, it would be to the death. How had I expected anything else in this shithole of a world?
“You will be safe, my Beth,” Daeary said, not the slightest doubt in his voice.
I was pretty sure that all the blood had left my head. My vision swam in and out of focus as the silent, grim-faced Fae faced forward, waiting for the door to open. And then the wave of contestants pushed me forward into the arena.
I lifted my hand to shield my eyes after being inside the tunnel, and then wished I hadn’t. The space was an oval, maybe two hundred feet in diameter at its widest point. Each exit was guarded by soldiers, standing shoulder to shoulder, swords drawn, to make sure nobody escaped.
At the far end was a platform with several chairs. To the left sat a rotund man. I couldn’t make out any details from this distance, but he looked middle-aged. Not my uncle, but some kind of dignitary.
The audience tiers, arranged in rising circles, were full of women and older men. I even saw some children. They were chatting and laughing as if what was about to happen was normal. And maybe it was. But I noticed plenty of drawn and fearful Fae sitting close to the arena. Maybe relatives of the contestants?
