Chapter 30 – His Crown of Bones
Now I knew I could never have scared him off. I could have done anything, and he would have considered it a victory. I was the prize, and he'd played long and hard to win me.
"Did you enjoy speaking with your friends?" Nilli asked as the coverage got started, music blaring and interviews with the three remaining contestants – Araxis, the brin Zey'flen, and the ketaari Tree Lily – spooled out, spliced with footage from the previous days of combat.
"I did, thank you," I said, stare flicking over the map laid out on the screen.
They were adjusting the drop locations so that the participants were closer together – the day before must have been bad for ratings – and they cut in footage of the participants completing a new random selection.
Araxis drew a location near the middle of the map on a wedge of higher ground. Good.
"You must have very many friends," Nilli tried, turning down the volume a bit as commentators began analyzing sequences of combat from training in the village and the preceding days of combat before the platforms rose from the pods below the arena.
She always liked to turn it down when they showed that same clip of Araxis beheading Andiri; there was also always an extended sequence of Andiri as she throttled me.
I looked away. I didn't particularly like it either.
"You know," I said lightly, "I really don't. I have one friend, Khrelen Tintissi, who I worked with.
He's written a few times since I left. Mostly he wanted to tell me about his latest auditions for theatre productions.
" He'd also written a lengthy diatribe about what an idiot I was when he realized I hadn't just left for work, but was, in fact, taking part in a galactic bloodbath; I'd learned about six new ways to swear in Standard from that letter, but that wasn't the kind of thing I wanted to share with Nilli. "Other than that, no one wrote back."
Nilli tilted her head as she looked at me, her dark eyes perceptive. "Hm."
"Work was always busy," I explained. The platforms rose from the sand, the teal energy shields buzzing.
Nilli turned the volume down a little more, which was fine by me.
I found it hard to breathe when the chimes sounded and the crowd roared, some strange sense memory making me shiver reflexively.
"I think I'm good at getting along with almost everyone.
But… that's not really the same thing, is it? "
She was quiet, which I guessed meant she didn't know what to say, even though that was her entire job. It was pretty pathetic, so I rushed to add, "I got along well with Zirric. I bet we could be friends if we ever got to spend time together."
"Yes," Nilli said emphatically. "Sometimes, it is about finding the right people; it is about finding the place where you belong.
I believe you will have many friends, Sashen of Creche Thiel.
" She reached out and squeezed my hand, and then the shields on the screen blinked out of existence and we stopped talking.
I turned the volume back up, just a little, and leaned forward in my seat.
My hands curled into hard fists resting on my thighs, nails digging into the flesh of my palms. Araxis stood on the promontory, his dark eyes glittering as he did a slow rotation, taking in the landscape.
His gleaming swords were in his hands, his eyes narrowed.
Another camera showed Tree Lily's purple form.
The moment the shield dropped, she leapt to the ground and hunched over, pressing the side of her head to the dirt.
Her yellow eyes clicked shut. After a breath or two, Tree Lily lifted her head, angling her face in the direction of Araxis's drop spot.
She scrambled a few feet in that direction, pressing her head down to the ground again.
"Competitor Tree Lily appears to be locating the other active drop locations by listening for the sound of gravel being displaced by the descending platforms," said one of the commentators. "Bright Cloud, we haven't seen this tactic used in a number of years."
"Yes, it only works in some conditions," intoned the other commentator, "but Tree Lily clearly knows her Tournament history. And given that she's from –" they said a word in taar that I couldn't imagine pronouncing, "she would be familiar with the properties of this sand and gravel composite."
Tree Lily leapt up as the platforms finished their descent, hurtling along a series of boulders as she bolted away from her drop spot and toward the ridge where she would find Araxis.
"It doesn't matter if she knows where he is," I said aloud, glancing at Nilli. "He knows she's coming."
Nilli was silent next to me, although she sent me a quick, flickering smile.
I stiffened as I watched. The day on the moon was overcast, so Tree Lily didn't have shadows to hide in and she wore her black armour. He'd see her.
Araxis stood, looking south, and I saw a frown catch his mouth, his head tilting just slightly.
One of the cameras showed Tree Lily's approach from above.
She moved in a precise and careful line toward Araxis's back.
In one hand was a dagger, sharp and sleek.
She was good with her daggers; she had good aim.
When she'd tricked Atosha into that bottleneck, she'd dropped him in two deadly strikes from a distance.
"Come on," I muttered, staring at Araxis on the screen. "Turn around. She's right there."
Tree Lily inched forward, slow; it looked like she wasn't breathing, her yellow eyes narrow.
That golden stare flicked for one scant moment to a cluster of bushes to the side before settling, steady, on Araxis.
A view from a camera behind her shoulder showed Araxis's upright back on the top of the ridge: a target, out in the open.
A violent wash of fear crashed over me, my skin flashing cold. Next to me, Nilli was absolutely silent, her eyes wide, her face drained to a matte white.
What if he actually died in there? What then? What would happen to Creche Thiel?
"Come on," I said, breathy and desperate. "Araxis, she's there."
Tree Lily sat her weight back on her right foot, her arm coiling into position. She took a deep breath, the cameras on screen splitting the views between them.
And then Araxis half-turned his head, his back still a wide open target, and said, his voice low, "You should yield."
She launched the dagger, and one of his swords flicked up to parry it away, looking no more difficult than brushing aside an errant thought.
And then, in a powerful surge of motion, he was on her.
He closed the distance before the parried blade had even landed on the ground, while Tree Lily scrambled to haul out another one of her knives.
Araxis knocked her to the ground, and Tree Lily went skidding back, a spray of gravel kicking up behind her.
Dust roiled around her body. Araxis prowled forward, one iridescent sword pointed toward her chest.
"Your choice?" he asked mildly, as he towered above her. Tree Lily was sprawled beneath him, panting and staring up at him with wide yellow eyes.
"You're arrogant," she hissed. "You could have made a strong alliance with someone who might have been here at the end. Your human was a mistake, prince."
And then Zey'flen launched out of a nearby thorn bush and hurled himself at Araxis.
I gasped, but the brin was on him. His muscular shoulder slammed into Araxis, who had to take several steps back to regain his footing.
Zey'flen had two blades as well; we'd known he had some experience in voltaari sword arts, which was why we had him flagged as a potential danger.
He drew both blades in a flash of movement, and then charged at Araxis.
The crowd was going wild on the screen, screaming with delight.
A commentator in one corner was playing an interview clip in which Araxis explained that he was participating in the Tournament in order to restore his creche to its rightful place; his creche-mates believed in him and put their lives on the line, trusting he would be victorious.
Death was not an option, he said plainly.
And now it seemed possible, and the crowd sounded furious and exultant all at once.
Zey'flen slashed forward in a series of strikes that I recognized immediately as a bastardized version of the third sequence.
It was the one we'd practiced the most, and I could see Araxis struggling to find his footing, parrying as quickly as he could while avoiding being driven back into the thorn bushes that curved around the back half of the hillside.
Tree Lily surged upwards as well, hauling at her daggers and darting sideways to try and find a good angle.
The commentators were cutting in footage now of Tree Lily and Zey'flen having whispered conversations late into the lead-up.
They hadn't made any firm declarations, but had both voiced their dislike of the abayan prince.
Apparently, that had been sufficient for an impromptu alliance.
I stood up, staring at the screen in horror. Zey'flen used his swords like they were clubs, throwing all his power behind the awkward blows.
Araxis was better. He was better that that. He just needed to put himself back in sequence, to settle into the rhythm; he could deflect the blows and dodge them. If he could sink into the sequence properly, he'd have Zey'flen in only a few moves.
"Third sequence," I barked. "You've done it a million times!"
Tree Lily launched a blade. Araxis caught it with the hilt of one sword, which then spun frantically out of his grip.
"Oh fuck," I said, turning away. I couldn't look. I couldn't. My hands shot up to cover my face. I was going to be sick; my stomach churned, hot and sour. "Nilli, I can't – Can you –"
"The ketaari has thrown another dagger," said Nilli, her voice high and breathy. "It has hit your Araxis in the shoulder. The brin is moving to strike. He is closing in."