23
I wake up in half-darkness, light sneaking through window bars. Blinking, I see a table with weapons opposite me. My head is buzzing.
The noise. I should have noticed the noise first. I shot up from my position.
The window bars are too high, I can’t see outside.
I climb onto the table to peek out, but all I find is sand in front of me.
Outside, hundreds of demons are screaming, cheering.
I exhale shakily and climb down from the stone.
My hand touches a piece of paper on which is written a short message. I try to turn it towards the light.
“If I were you, I would choose a weapon you can use. Although you will be killed, and I will enjoy watching you die.”
They didn’t need to sign it for me to know the message came from Léthé. It will still kill me… My every limb turns to stone. I count the days since I’ve been among the demons. We’re nearing the time when I should fight the monster. But Darya said…
I furrow my brow. Darya said that if it were up to him , I wouldn’t have to fight the monster. But Léthé abducted me without the Demon King’s knowledge.
No! I’m not ready yet! This wasn’t the plan! I’m going to die. That monster is going to kill me.
“émías nosoik!” Darya’s voice fills the entire space, and my heart races wildly. “The third night of the ritual. As with every cycle, we begin again with a skilled demon showing us how to fight a monster.” The crowd roars, and I imagine the drooling faces of black skulls in front of me.
“Polyphemus is ready, and our champion behind the door is also,” Darya declares.
This might be the monster’s name. I try to remember if I read about it in the book in Darya’s room, but nothing comes to mind. Whatever it is, it’s definitely not a house cat. And Darya thinks a demon is standing here in my place! He’ll probably back down. He doesn’t want to kill me; he needs me…
I don’t think I understand everything Darya says, but when he shouts, “Let’s begin,” the door of my cell moves.
Panic-stricken, I rush to the weapons table and see what I can take.
The spear is too heavy and I still can’t handle it properly, and who knows how thick the beast’s skin is.
I pick up a seemingly lightweight thin sword: a rapier.
Kripot said to avoid heavy weapons. I have a better chance if I focus on my strengths rather than my weaknesses.
I strap on a belt and tuck as many knives into it, and into the pocket of my overalls, as won’t hinder my movement.
I also attach the longer dagger I picked up earlier, and finally, I grab a bow along with the quiver lying next to it.
By the time the iron door opens, I stand armed in the incoming light.
I still can’t see the crowd, but the walls are already vibrating from the drumming and wing flapping.
I can’t get myself to move. Will they drag me out if I don’t?
In response, Léthé’s figure appears in the middle of the sea of sand, and the demons grow quieter.
“Kraldem!” She knees and bows her head, presumably in the direction where the Demon King is. “You say champion, but yesterday you introduced us to the one you believed to be your greatest hope. Show us, then, if she truly holds such great power! Show us, so we can have hope in her!”
The mermaid turns her head towards me, a malicious smile consuming her face. As I step out, the demons’ voices become violent; some scream and laugh in human form. I find myself in the middle of a huge arena. I try to locate Darya in the crowd, who, when he sees me, jumps up from his seat.
His eyes shoot lightning. He’ll stop it. He wants me to survive.
He looks at Léthé angrily, his gaze promising dire consequences for the woman. The mermaid smirks challengingly at him.
“Do you want to see who the Demon King’s champion is?
” She looks at Darya, but is shouting to the entire room, met with louder screams in response.
I plead to Darya with my eyes. He catches my gaze, but his face remains unreadable.
Sylla stands beside him, and despite her black skirt and faint smile, I still can’t tell if she’s nervous or finds joy in the situation.
Nárs stands directly next to Darya – even his eyes flicker with surprise between the Kraldem, Léthé and me.
The mermaid openly defied her king. The green gnome stares up at me, his face twitching, but I don’t see Kripot anywhere.
Darya must know I didn’t agree to this.
The Kraldem looks around, then sits down. He raises his hand, and the crowd quietens once more, though I still feel like they’re screaming.
“As the Guardian of the Rivers said, I don’t know a champion more worthy than Kindra. However, she doesn’t possess the correct knowledge yet. Another demon will fight tonight.”
The voice of the Demon King is so decisive, I sigh too early. Léthé bursts out like an unstoppable storm.
“This wasn’t promised to us by the gods!” she shouts. I hear whispered words, and someone puts their hand over their mouth. I’m amazed at how… human the reaction of the demons sitting in human form is.
Nárs claps his hands together and laughs.
His black-painted nails shine white, even from this distance.
Léthé clearly went overboard. But it’s not that which freezes me, it’s the growing murmurs in the crowd: “Let’s see” and “Let the champion fight!” They say my name, coined by Darya, so mockingly that I realize the Demon King needs to prove himself to his people.
They don’t believe that salvation will come from a pale girl.
The crowd screams for blood. I gaze at Darya, who stares so emptily at Léthé that if I were in the mermaid’s place, I’d rather lean on my own sword.
For the first time, I see uncertainty on the demon woman’s face.
Finally, Darya leans back in his chair. He casually gestures towards the door of my cell with his palm.
“So be it,” he says.
“No! Please, no!” I shout, and Darya finally looks at me.
And then.
There.
I see a faint smile on his face.
My whole body freezes. Darya knew… Darya planned this, and now he sits there smiling, waiting.
Hatred and anger rise within me. Was this his plan all along? To strengthen me, then throw me to a monster? I said I wouldn’t be his champion. Would he have given up on me?
As he clasps his hands together, I see the truth in his eyes. He did give up on me.
No. He won’t win. I didn’t fight for three months just to die here! I look into Darya’s eyes. I swear to him in Swedish, my mother tongue, so he knows how much I mean it.
“I will defeat you. You will never break me.”
Even from this distance, I see a glint of silver in his eyes.
Like a final word, the iron gate slowly opens.
I hear the clinking of chains holding the beast. As I see it, my eyes widen, and I almost faint.
It’s as big as a two-story house, and its roar fills the space.
There are cracks on its bluish-gray skin, and red veins bulge under its chest. I can’t look at its body for long – its head draws my gaze.
With its single yellow iris, its enormous eye, divided by red veins, stares at me.
Its elongated ears wrinkle its face. Its rocky skin cracks as it snarls.
A cyclops?! It screams as it hungrily gazes at me.
I’m only still alive because of the chains holding it back. My knees tremble.
Is this how I end? I study the monster, trying to recall Kripot’s advice; trying to find its weak spot. I’m finished. I can’t do this. Fear permeates every fiber of my being, but instead of activating, it just paralyzes me. Think, Lotte! Everyone has a weak point!
But I can’t look away from the monster’s jaw. The protruding, sharp teeth. It strains against the chain, eager to pounce on me. And then it swallows. As it does, its throat swells too much. The skin is thinner there. That’s the weak point! I need to aim there. I thank myself for bringing the bow.
“Ten!” Nárs’s sharp voice hits the arena as he counts down. Come on, Lotte, think. This isn’t enough! It will catch you before you have a chance.
In the space of a second, I scroll through all the days of the past months in my mind.
“Everything can be a weakness,” Kripot said once. “Even our strengths.”
This monster is strong. But that doesn’t make it skilful.
I have no other choice; this is my only plan. It has to work. I start running towards the door of my cell, keeping the monster in my sights. The demons laugh and scream. They think I’m running away. I just about manage to reach the door and draw my bow.
Nárs shouts, “One!”
The chains clatter as they fall from the cyclops’ body, and it charges towards me. Luckily, it’s not on all fours, so I can aim for its neck.
I haven’t spent a day in the past months without practicing with Kripot. I never hit the target, but now… I release the string.
The monster deflects the arrow with a swipe, continuing its charge towards me. I don’t move. I have to stay here longer. It’s only five of its massive strides away now. Come on, Lotte, hold on! Four. Three.
As it’s almost upon me, and as it reaches out a hand to crush me, I throw one of my daggers straight into its fingers. The monster pulls its hand back, and I somersault under its arm. Unable to stop due to its massive weight, it crashes into the wall, while I end up unharmed behind it.
Without even thinking, I withdraw two knives from my belt and throw them at its neck. The first one hits perfectly. It screams, and a red streak of blood begins running down the monster’s neck, but the second one misses the mark.