Chapter Fourteen
Because I know the first attack is coming, I manage to avoid it, circling around the perimeter of the platform, swinging my weighted chain low at Maliria’s legs. She changes direction with impossible grace, leaping over the chain and charging at me once again.
I dodge this attack as well, not wanting to get caught up in a lengthy exchange of blows where the massive size and weight of her sword can batter against my defenses. It isn't how I've been trained to fight anyway. All of my training has focused on hitting and moving, trying to keep at a distance from my opponent, trying to confuse them and eventually find an opening.
“We don't have to fight like this,” I call out to her, in case it will do any good.
“But it's the quickest way to victory,” she shoots back. “I kill you and this challenge is over.”
She punctuates that by thrusting at me with her blade, taking a quick step to her left and then slashing in the moment afterwards. I dodge, but the sword still scores a line of blood across my stomach. The armor for the Champions Trials may be heavier than for the usual games, but it is still gladiatorial armor. It protects vital areas but leaves enough uncovered that the crowd is going to get the blood it craves.
I slash at Malira with the curved blade on the end of the chain, making her hesitate, and that's enough to let me gain some distance again. The crowd roars at the first sight of blood, and we keep going.
The first of the fire elementals detaches itself from the flames around the platform, it comes in and I wonder for a second if I might be able to take control of it. But its mind is an empty thing. I realize this is a construct more than a beast, not a natural thing at all. I thrust my spear home into it instead, and it bursts apart in a wash of flames that feels as hot as if I had been standing out in the sun all day without respite.
Malira uses the distraction to attack me again, moving quickly, so that I am forced to just defend, without any time in which to attack in return. I take a step and almost find myself toppling from the edge of the platform. It continues to shrink by the moment as I catch my balance and keep moving.
The crowd seems to be growing impatient now, jeering as I dodge.
“Fight!” a voice screams out.
“Kill her!”
I don't know if they mean that I should kill Malira or that she should kill me. I don't think it matters much to the person shouting it.
There are fewer elementals than in the fight that featured Vex and Alaric. It's obvious that Lord Darius, or whoever is summoning them, does so only to try to keep the action going. If I stray too far from Malira, or if I play defense for too long, one leaps out of the flames at me, but mostly it's just the two of us on the platform, surrounded by the flames.
There are no beasts here for me to summon. I have already established that I cannot control the elementals, and trying to call the shadow cat would take more power than I have, even if there were any shadows here for it to work with. The circle of flames seems to dispel any meaningful shadows for it to step through.
I reach out for a bird above, borrowing some of its sight. That will at least tell me if anything is coming up behind me and let me know where I am in relation to the edge of the platform. I duck under a sweep of Malira's blade, and I borrow more than just sight. A flicker of grace and agility flows into me, letting me avoid more of the attacks.
I dare a glance at the sand timer, trying to judge how long I have to survive here. I try to remind myself that doing so is the only objective here. If I can defend long enough, if I can just survive, then that is as good as if I defeat Malira. I keep parrying her blows, swinging my chain to keep her at bay, jabbing with my spear, trying to make sure she never has an opportunity to land a lethal attack.
Maybe if the platform were not shrinking, I might be able to do it. As it is, it seems as if there is forever still to go in the bout. My heart is hammering in my chest. My skin is pouring with sweat, so that even the haft of my spear feels slick with it and it is hard to keep a strong grip. I'm forced closer and closer to Malira.
The crowd shouts louder now, as if sensing that I am running out of places to run.
“Kill, kill, kill!” The chant seems to come from nowhere, but soon it is all-encompassing, filling the space, making it hard to concentrate even as I need to focus more to hold off Malira’s furious assault.
Another of her attacks succeeds in wounding me. It is another scratch, but it only means more blood falling onto the platform, the crowd shouting its approval at the sight of me in pain. I know I'm going to have to fight back more if I'm going to survive. I can't just stand and defend, but I'm not sure I have time to do anything else.
Forced closer to Malira, all I can do is try to match the rate of her attacks, interposing my weapons whenever I can, feeling the impact on my partial armor whenever I cannot. Even when I parry the blows, the hits are jarring. I try to counterattack, because I know if I don't I'm just going to die, but I have to turn even that movement into another parry.
Somewhere in it all I lose the sight from the bird. I see a small shape plummet from the sky. The bird falls into the flames and is consumed. That is a fresh pain, because I know I'm responsible for it. In my desperation to survive, I have reached out in the way that Lady Elara showed me. I have taken too much from it, and in taking I have killed it.
I don't have any time to worry about the bird though. It is my own survival that is in question. I spin my chain, trying to entangle Malira’s weapon, but she moves it out of the way and turns the movement into another attack. I thrust my spear towards her heart, but she deflects the blow and keeps coming.
She is relentless, and now there is so little space on the platform that we are almost forced to fight toe to toe. Malira snarls at me and pushes me, shoving me back towards the edge. I teeter on the precipice, the heat of the flames below me almost impossible to withstand. Another few inches and I will plummet into them, and I have already seen what that could do. Even if I survive somehow, I will be badly burned.
Malira smiles with savage delight at my predicament, using broad sweeps of her sword to keep me on the edge of the platform. She seems to know that if it keeps shrinking, I will be brought into range, and she can push me to my doom.
In an instant, there are three of me there on the edge, all moving, all ready to fight. I gasp as I realize that someone has thrown an illusion up over me. I look over Malira’s shoulder and I see Alaric standing next to Vesper. Vesper must be boosting his power to let him send an illusion out like this to help me, when normally he can only summon illusions around himself.
The risk he is taking is immense. They are both risking a lot. If the emperor decides that they are interfering in the bout more than they should, they will face punishment for this. They might even be executed. But still they are doing it. Multiple versions of me now line up against Malira.
She curses and charges. And in that moment, she guesses wrong. She swings her sword straight through one of the illusory copies, and that gives me the only opening I'm going to get in this fight. I shove into her, hitting her with my full weight, and she stumbles to the precipice of the platform, struggling to keep her footing even with her abilities.
Then she drops, falling into the flames with a scream that rings out even above the cries of the crowd. They roar in appreciation of the nature of the victory, even as Malira screams in pain and rolls through the flames, trying to get to safety. Healers are running to her, pulling her from the flames, but I can already see the burns covering her.
I feel sick at the sight of it, but I know if I did anything else, I would be the one there. That, or she would have killed me outright.
Even as I think it, the platform comes to a halt. I find myself looking up at the emperor's box. I can see Lord Darius up there, apparently remonstrating with the emperor. He looks furious. The emperor holds up a hand for silence. Is this the moment when he will condemn me for Alaric's interference? Will he condemn all of us?
“I declare the gladiator Lyra the victor of this bout,” he says. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. He has decided I'm the winner. He says nothing about the manner of my victory.
Some in the crowd boo, but many more are cheering. Because that's the truth of the games. The crowd aren't interested in fairness, or in the niceties of the combat. In this moment they're only interested in the fact that I have pushed someone out into the flames.
As soon as the bridge is back connected to the platform, I hurry over it. Alaric is there waiting for me.
I am grateful for that, but I’m also worried about the danger he might just have put himself in by helping me.