Chapter 31 #2
“This nightmare just got a whole lot worse,” I muttered under my breath.
Someone shuffled forward and leaned against the bars beside me. “The Magpies are shapeshifters and were once in servitude to the ruler of Hell. But now they’re trapped here, serving Madalena. Just like that giant creature she keeps caged below. They’re not so different from the rest of us.”
The Magpie with the sword struck a soul and severed the head from his body, and stepped back from the bloodied sand, waiting for the next soul to be thrown their way.
Not so different?
I wanted to argue. To scream and laugh and cry that I wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. But something stopped me. The reason I was in Hell was still a mystery, and I refused to accept that all this was happening because of a stupid locket.
“I’m Ezra,” the man said.
I finally looked at him properly. Deep scars, some old, some fresh, marred his arms. His leathers were torn and stained, and his body was lean but not weak. His dark hair was short, and his expression wasn’t unkind, but it was tiring.
“Nina,” I offered. “You’ve fought before?”
He nodded. “I’ve been fighting for what feels like an eternity.”
I glanced again at the scars covering his arms. “How have you survived? The others are being obliterated out there.”
“I learned early on that Torment rewards pain and suffering.”
His words barely landed before the thread yanked him forward. Ezra rolled his shoulders, steady as if this was routine. “Good luck,” he tossed over his shoulder, then jogged into the arena, riding the pull instead of resisting it.
The moment he reached the centre of the arena, the youngest Magpie jumped into the fight, twirling his spear in elaborate motions with a wide grin on his face.
The Magpie lunged, but this time, his opponent was fully prepared.
It seemed Ezra had brought extra weapons.
Knives appeared in his hands, one after another.
The Magpie's spear struck its target repeatedly, but each time, Ezra had a different trick. He threw glass shards from his pocket to blind them. When that failed, he dropped low, rolling beneath the Magpie's next swing. Then came more knives, flying like silver arrows that bit into the Magpie’s armour before clattering to the floor. The gong rang just as Ezra’s final knife flew.
It clipped the Magpie’s cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
The crowd gasped. The wound was small, but the crowd roared.
In Hell, even a graze brought out the bloodthirst in these souls.
“When will you yield, old man?”
“Never,” the soul said with a grin.
Madalena clapped, smiling at the soul (her prized toy, no doubt) and watched with manic glee as he limped out of the arena. So that was Ezra’s tactic. Because there was a timer, so if you lasted long enough, charmed Madalena, you could walk out alive.
I watched Ezra disappear into the gloomy tunnel and almost missed Amabel staggering forward, her hands grasping for purchase and finding none. She was yanked along like a puppet on a string.
“Please, don’t let them end me.”
We could do nothing but watch as she cried out for help while stumbling into the arena, only a few steps from one of the Magpies. The tallest of the three, the one with the bow, stood waiting, unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world.
A guttural cheer erupted from the stands, the creatures ravenous for blood. An echoing gong rolled through the pit. The fight had begun.
The Magpie moved first, casting aside his bow for twin daggers.
He closed the distance in a blink. Amabel barely raised her sword before the first blade came down in a brutal arc.
Steel shrieked against steel as she caught the blow, sparks spitting from the clash while her arms shook under his unnatural strength.
He fought as if it were nothing. Amabel fought with everything she had.
She twisted away from the second dagger by a hair, then drove her sword forward, only to cut through air.
The Magpie was faster. Stronger. And unlike Amabel, he wasn’t fighting to survive.
He was playing with her. He laughed softly and circled her while spinning his daggers in his palms.
The bastard was enjoying this.
Amabel’s movements grew sloppy. She was wearing down fast. The Magpie drove his foot into her stomach in a quick, blurry motion. Amabel crashed to the ground, gasping, choking on the impact. Her sword clattered to the ground and disintegrated.
Amabel was weak, spitting blood, and she struggled to push herself up. The Magpie circled her once more, his daggers at his side.
And then Madalena rose from her throne. “Enough,” she announced. The Magpie halted mid-step. “She bores me.”
My stomach turned to stone.
The Magpie moved in a flurry and slammed the base of his dagger into the back of Amabel’s head. She was out in a second and collapsed on the ground.
The Magpie lifted her up, swung her over his shoulder and heaved her to the outskirts of the arena.
Unconscious, it seemed, but alive.
She hadn’t been devoured or destroyed, though she hadn’t won a relic.
“She survived,” Selene whispered. “We can get out of this.”
So Madalena wasn't willing to destroy us all just yet. Perhaps since we were Champions and not yet bonded to a domain, she was hesitant to destroy us. Maybe she wanted something from us?
“Amabel was lucky,” Felix said. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll get out of here alive.
You all saw how our weapons disintegrate in the arena.
How is that fair? We have no chance of getting through this.
” His fingers twitched at his sides, his back pressed against the cage bars like he could disappear into them if he tried hard enough.
The Felix I’d met before was relaxed, fast-talking, even charming. Now he looked terrified—and with reason. He’d made it this far, survived like the rest of us, but he wasn’t built for battle. His tall, nimble frame spoke of speed, not strength. I could only hope it would be enough.
My gaze dropped to the belt at my waist, to the hidden weapons strapped against my leathers. Without a word, I unbuckled it and pressed it into his hands.
Felix frowned. “What—?”
“Take them.”
He hesitated. “But—”
“I’m sorry for trying to steal your relic.” The confession slipped out before I could stop it. “I came prepared, and I want you to have a shot out there.” I forced a smirk. “Consider it me making up for it.”
He let out a short breath. A ghost of a laugh. “A bribe, huh?”
I shrugged. “Something like that.”
He nodded and took the belt from my open palm. “Are you sure about this? What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” A second hesitation. “I think.”
He strapped it around his waist and offered me a small smile. “No guts, no glory, right?”
Then the invisible force grabbed him, and he went barrelling into the arena. I pressed against the cage as he fell to his face, then righted himself, still clinging to his sword.
Two Magpies waited for him. The spear and the sword. They stood like predators. Watching. Waiting. Madalena leaned forward on her throne, lazily propping her chin on her hand.
“Begin.”
The gong sounded.
Felix held his sword out before him. Then they attacked.
Dominik stepped closer, his voice low. “Why did you do that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You gave up something that could have saved you out there. And you gave it away to a stranger.”
“He’s not a stranger, Dominik.”
“You need to watch your back,” he muttered.
I tore my gaze away from the fight. “What?”
Dominik’s jaw tightened. “Just—you can’t be allies with them. Got it?”
First it was Selene, and now it's Felix. Dominik did not like any soul in Hell. He acted as if they were all vile, immoral people.
We're in Hell, so he may be onto something there.
“Okay,” I said, if only to placate him, but I wasn’t buying it.
I glanced back to the arena just in time to see Felix deflect a brutal strike, his dagger skimming the edge of one Magpie’s ribs. He was holding his own. Just barely.
Dominik was still watching me. “I mean it.”
“But we’re all in this together. Why not help one or two along the way? It doesn’t hurt us to do that.” Pride swelled in my chest. It was just as Tobias would have wanted. Help others whenever we can.
“They wouldn’t help you if the tables were reversed. You and I should help each other. And that’s it. We can’t trust anyone else.”
We were all competing against each other. For relics and for survival. For the promise of a winner’s treasure. How could we trust anyone in this? But then again, why should I listen to Dominik at all? I could make my own rules.
Felix was still standing. The Magpies moved like living shadows, fluid and unnatural, their weapons catching the dim torchlight. Felix wasn’t a warrior, but he was clever, dodging between them and refusing to fight on their terms.
And luckily, he had speed.
He struck fast and low, relying on his nimble movements, and when one of the Magpies lunged, Felix ducked under his blade and drove a dagger straight through his thigh. His secret blades came in handy after all.
The Magpie staggered back, hissing. Felix twisted the blade free, a flicker of surprise in his face, like he hadn’t expected that to work.
The second Magpie moved fast. Felix dodged the strike, but his foot caught on the ground, and for a split second, I thought he’d lost. But at the last moment, he did something reckless.
He threw one of my knives, not at the Magpie, but at the ground between them. The Magpie hesitated, and it was enough.
Felix twisted past him, rammed a dagger sideways and struck the Magpie through the shoulder. Before he could take a final blow, Madalena’s voice boomed through the arena.
“The match is over.”
The gong rang out. The Magpie was on his knees in the dirt, heaving, breath after breath. Felix stood there, panting and alive, blood dripping from his knuckles. The crowd fell silent. I turned my gaze to Madalena. She was staring at Felix, fury building in those deep-set lines.
Then she let out a long sigh and flicked a hand. “Take your relic, Champion of Misery.”
A small object materialised in front of Felix, and he grabbed it before trudging over to Amabel on the outskirts of the arena.
“Shit.” Selene let out a loud, nervous laugh. “He actually survived.”
Dominik rolled his shoulders as if he knew what was coming. “Remember what I told you,” he murmured, eyeing Selene suspiciously.
The invisible strings propelled him forward. He gritted his teeth but did not fight it or stumble, like Felix had. He let himself be pulled into the arena as if he accepted it.
“What’s his problem?” Selene muttered. “Keeps looking at me like I’m about to sprout claws and go full wendigo on him.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “He’s only thinking about making it through this. The way we all are, I guess.”
I stepped closer to the bars, watching as Dominik planted his feet firmly and adjusted his stance. A few feet away, the third Magpie stepped forward. This one with a bow. My stomach twisted.
Dominik had seconds to reach him before the Magpie filled him with arrows.
The gong sounded.
The Magpie moved first. His arrow shot straight for Dominik, who twisted aside a heartbeat too late. The tip grazed his shoulder before striking the arena floor and vanishing.
Dominik was faster than I’d expected, and armed. He didn’t have clumsy feet, like I remembered. He’d slip up around the Cunning Folk back in the village. But here, he was no longer the boy I remembered.
A small sphere flashed in his hand before he hurled it at the Magpie. It burst mid-air, a blinding flare shooting skyward and drowning the arena in white light.
I squinted against the glare. The Magpie stumbled back, clawing at his eyes. Dominik charged, sword raised, closing the gap in long strides. The Magpie recovered at the last moment, bow snapping up, a second arrow aimed.
Dominik twisted away, but not far enough. The shaft ripped through his shoulder and split his armour. My hands tightened around the bars. He could not fall. Not now.
“He’ll be all right,” Selene murmured beside me. When I turned, she offered a smile, but my stomach stayed knotted.
Dominik’s pace slowed. Another arrow was drawn, the bowstring pulled taut. But he wasn’t finished yet.
Before the Magpie could fire, Dominik snatched two more spheres from his belt and flung them forward. They shattered mid-air, releasing a rolling cloud of red gas.
Where in the bleeding realms did he get his weapons?
The Magpie shrieked, armour sizzling as the gas ate into metal and skin. His flesh blistered where the gas touched him.
Dominik didn’t waste the opening. He lunged, sword swinging wide, and the blade carved across the Magpie’s chest. Dark blood spilt down his brown leathers.
“Enough!” Madalena screeched. Her voice cut through the arena. “You are too much like your master. He will be pleased to know his tricks served you this time.”
Dominik was panting, and he threw his sword to the floor in a ferocious gesture. A relic appeared before him, a scrap of white cloth. He seized it without hesitation. Victory was his. He spat on the arena before the Magpie, then strode from the arena.
Those weapons had been hidden all along, strapped to his belt, unnoticed by the rest of us. We were meant to be helping one another. So why keep them secret? Why not share them with me?
“Didn’t see that coming,” Selene muttered.
“You and me both.”
I wasn’t angry. There wasn’t time. Invisible threads wound tight around my wrists and ankles, dragging me forward. My turn. All I carried was a sword that could dissolve the moment I lost my grip.
The pull wrenched me from the cage, and I stumbled into the arena.