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With two guards in front of us and two behind, we walked through the sloping tunnels, going deeper underground with every step. I didn’t like being sandwiched between them, but I understood their reasoning. Van walked in front of me with a hand on the hilt of his sword and I was looking at him with new respect. Not that I didn’t trust him with my life before, but I was suddenly realizing how little I knew about him.
Cosette walked beside me with her hands out, ready to call in whatever flaming weapon she wanted. I was ready to shift if I needed to, but I hoped it didn’t come to that. My wolf was on edge, and I didn’t trust him. Not today.
I hadn’t been to any of the other courts, but I knew I hated this one. I hated the suffocating feeling of being underground. My wolf was rising up as I struggled to keep my breathing even and my heart at a reasonable pace, but I couldn’t stop the sweat that was already beading up on my forehead.
I hated the scent of the sweet smoke, too. My nose burned, and I sneezed a couple of times before I could stop myself.
“The young wolf doesn’t like the smell, eh?” the guard in front of me said.
The mocking, slanted smile on his face told me that he was laughing at me.
I really hated these asshole guards. “No. I don’t like it.”
We passed corridors and rooms. I wasn’t sure where we were going—every hallway looked like the last—but I knew we were going down. Down, down, deeper down. Until eventually there was sound. The beats of different types of drums. All driving my heart to race faster and faster until we finally entered what had to be an arena.
Easily, a couple thousand people were cheering around the perimeter of the circular area. The drummers—there had to be at least twenty—were piled nearly on top of each other in the far corner outside the ring. The beats reverberated against the glasslike walls, rattling my bones.
The fighters in the center were moving to the beats of the drums. Fast and swift. Two broadswords each, one in each of their two hands. They were moving so fast—turning to smoke and racing
after each other—that it took me a second to realize that the fighters were Ziriel and Rayvien.
The guards led us through the gathered crowd until we were at the edge of the circle, watching the fight unfold.
One sword swung close to Rayvien’s face. I was sure she’d gotten cut, but there was no blood. She turned to smoke and reappeared behind Ziriel, but he turned to smoke before Rayvien could swing back.
I leaned down to whisper in Cosette’s ear. “Are they sparring or fighting-fighting?” I wanted to assume that this was just some sort of extreme sparring, but it really seemed like Ziriel might kill her.
She stared ahead, frozen—not even blinking—as she watched the fight. “When you step into that ring with another fey, it’s always a fight.” Her words were so quiet that even with my werewolf ears I could barely hear it. “Whether you decide to kill the loser or let them live, that’s up to the winner.”
Cosette still had her hands open, as if ready to grip weapons in them, and I wondered if she really meant what she said about Rayvien. About not being friends.
I watched the fight for a second, before leaning down again. “But they’re married. He wouldn’t kill her, would he?” I’d understood that Rayvien wasn’t exactly happily married, but I couldn’t imagine killing a spouse would be okay, even for the fey.
“Marriage doesn’t matter, but for what it’s worth, when Ziriel wins, I think he’s going to let her live. He actually cares for her.”
He was fighting like that and he cared for her? Not possible.
I jerked back as Rayvien turned to smoke just as one of Ziriel’s swords stabbed her. When, she became solid again, a little dot of red expanded across her white shirt.
I knew Cosette couldn’t lie, but I didn’t agree with her. Ziriel really seemed like he was trying to murder his wife. “And if Rayvien wins?”
When she didn’t say anything right away, I turned to her. “And if Rayvien wins?” I asked again.
“She won’t. No one beats Ziriel,” she said without sparing me a glance.
I went back to watching the fight.
Rayvien moved so quickly, I couldn’t track her. Blood flew through the air as Ziriel turned to smoke.
“I was wrong. She’s going to do it.” Cosette grabbed my arm. Her eyes were still open wide as she watched the fight. “We have to stop her. We need him to cut the tie.”
Another swing of the sword. Another spray of Ziriel’s blood in the air.
“Shit.” Cosette was right. We had to stop her. Ziriel was my best shot—my only shot—at cutting my lunar tie. “What do you want to do?”
“Hold out the bargain.”
I pulled the large golden coin from my back pocket. “What now?”
