Chapter 48
Forty - Eight
Shaye
Anxiety kept me tossing and turning in my bed all night long.
When the sun peaked over the desert horizon, I stood in my window and stared at the arena where Bastian would be fighting in just a few hours.
As if the city is abuzz by the prospect of gruesome entertainment, there's movement throughout the streets the moment light streaks into the avenues.
Some stop at vendors to grab finger-food as they make their way to the stadium to get a front row seat.
It's all anyone has been talking about since we were brought here.
The Beast of the Midori would finally meet an end deserving a monster.
I would be alongside them had Bastian not rescued me and Nyx.
It's not lost on me how this looks. I wouldn't have needed rescuing had he left me the hell alone, but there's something swirling in him I can't ignore or deny.
There's guilt, remorse, and worse, realization that everything he was told was a lie.
I know that feeling all too well. Maybe I'm a fool for sympathizing with him, but I believe there's still good in him.
Buried by a lifetime of horrors and abuse and misplaced trust.
How would I have turned out if someone like Vesper had gotten to me instead of the Harland brothers?
Bastian can't undo all the wrong he's done but maybe he can help set things back on the right path.
General Naziri doesn't agree with me, hence Bastian being in a fight-to-the-death in the first place.
I might be lying to myself, claiming I want Bastian to live so he can be an asset in this war as a strategic decision.
But the truth is, I desperately want the boy I once knew to still be in Bastian somewhere.
I want him to redeem himself, to have a second chance.
But redemption might be too good for someone like him.
A now-familiar knock on my door signals it's time. Hani helps me with one more round of ointments, but my burns are fading and healing. I still have a long road to recovery, but I'm at least making progress. Today's ensemble is still loose and flowy, but red just like Hani's.
I arch a brow. "We're both in red today?"
"We're all in red." She fastens the tops of the ointment jars. "It's tradition for everyone to don crimson for a fight-to-the-death."
I glance out my window once more. She's right. Everyone is in red. "What is he facing?"
Hani joins me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "A cruscorpio."
My eyes widen when I search her face and find glimpses of horror.
I've lived in Midori most of my life. Though I was never permitted to leave the confines of my home, I was well aware of the dangerous creatures lurking beyond our walls.
And a cruscorpio is one monster I had hoped to never see in person.
The creature has six legs and the venomous tail of a scorpion.
Its back is hard, as if it has armor protecting its spine.
Its face is something that will haunt children's nightmares.
Fangs and pinchers for a mouth, its beady eyes are on the side of its head so it can get a good look of its surroundings.
The worst part is how quickly it moves. No matter what it grabs you with – legs, tail, mouth – injury will be unavoidable.
I've heard accounts of skilled warriors being pinned to the ground beneath these foul creatures and being stabbed in the face and chest by its poisonous tail.
I think back on Bastian's beast form. A mixture of a bear and a wolf. He has sharp claws, brute strength, and endurance, but what he lacks is speed. My stomach sours. There's a good chance he doesn't make it out alive. It shouldn't bother me as much as it does.
Hani swipes the tear I hadn't realized slipped down my cheek. "You care for this beast?"
"He was once my friend," I whisper, gathering myself. "And I loved him dearly." Though not the way I thought I did.
"Come," she ushers me toward the door. "It's time. Maybe fate will permit him to live."
Her words are meant to comfort me, but they do the opposite. Someone like Bastian, and all the wrong he's done in his life, doesn't deserve a second chance. He doesn't deserve mercy. He's being punished exactly how he should be. It doesn't make the ache in my chest lessen.
I'm about to watch my childhood best friend die.
The circular arena reminds me of Draakstan, except it's filled to the brim with Vashbehtanians eager to watch the demise of the Beast of Midori.
Built into one of the rocky mountains, the stadium is impressive.
From where Nyx and I are seated, beside the Naziri's private box, I have a clear view of the entire sandy fighting area.
Carved into the mountain on the opposite side of where we are is an iron gate, presumably where they keep the creatures who fight here.
My heart is clawing to escape my chest. Despite being covered by a canopy and shielded from the merciless sun, I'm sweating through my clothes.
I flap my overlay, hoping to generate some airflow since there's not much of a breeze.
Suddenly, a small gust of wind strikes me, blowing my hair to my left in tornado like fashion.
I turn to look in the direction the wind came from and find Hani grimacing and offering a tiny wave.
"Did you do that?" I mouth and she nods sheepishly.
"I'm an Air-wielder," she mouths back and shrugs. "Still working on it."
Up until now, I'd forgotten the Naziris are sand and air wielders.
I wonder if all their children have some kind of power.
My gaze slides from Hani to her sister Hagar.
She sits with her arms crossed over her chest. I'm not sure if she's enjoying herself or not.
I don't recall seeing her smile the entire time I've been here.
And her twin brother, Helios, beside her mirrors her body posture.
Something tells me I should be scared of them, but I can't pinpoint why I feel that way.
"They look excited to be here," I whisper to Nyx. When he fails to respond, I turn to my left to look at him. His focus is fixed on the Naziri booth. I follow his gaze and find him staring at Hagar. I should have known. He couldn't keep his eyes off her when we first officially met them.
I elbow him in the side, drawing his attention. "You're staring."
"I'm observing my surroundings."
I scoff and lean closer to him, "Would those surroundings including Hagar Naziri."
His lips twist into a smile. "Maybe it does."
Our conversation ends abruptly when the crowd boos.
Their jeers echo in the cavernous arena and within seconds, it's an overwhelming cacophony of hatred and doom.
I press my hands to my ears and stare down into the fighting area.
Sure enough, four guards with spears and shields escort Bastian to the center.
His wrists and ankles are shackled and he appears to have lost a bit of weight. He's still not eating. Shit.
Once they're in the middle of the arena, one of the soldiers unlocks his manacles and the four of them walk out the same way they came in.
Bastian is standing alone. He turns in a circle. Wherever he looks there's an angry face or a fist being shaken his direction. He doesn't react to any of it. He's accepted his fate.
"Bastian!" I scream, drawing his exhausted face. "Fight!" He makes no indication that he's heard me or if he cares. He simply turns his back to me and faces the gate where his punishment awaits.
I press my hand to my stomach. "I think I'm going to vomit."
"Because of him?" Nyx points at Bastian with anger and surprise in his eyes. "He's lucky the Naziris didn't execute him on the spot when they rescued us."
I sigh, grounding myself. I knew he would be pissed discovering I want Bastian to live but I was hoping to have had a chance to talk to him about this before the fight. Too late now.
"Nyx, you have every right to hate him – "
"You're damn right," he interrupts with a snarl. "You should hate him too. Because of him, Drogon now has access to our realm and will wage his war. Not to mention the torture we endured – "
"You're right," I cut him off, returning the favor. "I should hate him."
He searches my face but seems to come up empty for whatever he's looking for. "But you don't? Why?"
I swallow the emotions bubbling in my throat and stare down at Bastian. People are throwing bits of food at him now and he just stands and accepts each blow. "When I look at him, I have hope he's still the boy I once knew. That maybe there's redemption for him."
"He's not who you once knew anymore. Why can't you just accept that?" Nyx poses the question I've been asking myself for days. And truth be told, I don't have a solid answer.
"Can you tell me with absolute certainty he doesn't have a chance to redeem himself?" I answer his question with one of my own.
Nyx slips his hand into mine and squeezes. "I love you, Shaye, but that's a fool's hope."
"Then I'm a fool." My lip trembles and I swipe a tear from my eye with the back of my free hand. "I believe he can help us defeat Drogon and reclaim his honor. He knows the inner workings of their operations better than anyone else in our realm."
"If by some miracle he survives this gauntlet – which was designed for him to fail, by the way – do you think Atlas will let him breathe knowing what happened to you?
What happened to me?" He tucks a finger to my chin and turns me to look at him.
He's worried. It's written all over his face.
"Kitarni, he's a dead man walking. We know it, and Bastian knows it too.
" When I don't respond he adds, "No matter what happens today, you can't interfere. "
"Nyx – "
"If you interfere, the Naziris will execute him. All you'll do is seal his fate. Don't insert yourself in his fight. This is out of your hands now."