Chapter 7 #2
She tugged with all her might, and after the third heave, Aela and the spear toppled into the sand. Wherever her opponent was, she was grateful they paused their assault long enough for her to arm herself.
Aela hefted the spear over her shoulder, knocking it securely into the slight groove above her collarbone.
With her free hand, she searched the side pocket of her pants, ensuring her roll hadn’t dislodged what lay within.
Keeping her footsteps light, Aela ventured farther into the sandpit.
Regardless of any perceived advantage she believed she had, Aela knew she was severely outmatched no matter who the Taureon’s had pitted her against. The Fates had shown their hand. It was time for her to show hers.
Aela drummed her fingers along the spear on her shoulder and hunted her adversary. She tried her best to drown out the noise of the crowd lining the oval-shaped coliseum. A blur of black followed swiftly by a flare of pain that erupted across her face.
When Aela could finally see, she blinked at the hazy sky above. Vibrant swaths of color streaked across in rich tones of magenta and aqua far above the quartz walkway, bleeding like spilled paint into the silvery flecked night.
“Get up,” a low voice growled.
Aela smarted and brought a hand up to her nose, which came away red. She groaned as she got to her feet. She gingerly wiped the coursing crimson from her nostrils. When her eyes stopped watering, Aela regarded her assailant.
A brutal warrior stood before her, clad in leather-plated armor, holding a spear jutting up from the sand. His head covering, fashioned in the likeness of a lion with a mane, wrapped around his head, and within its open maw, his deep umber face was revealed.
“I have no interest in the Taureon Line. I don’t suppose you’d like to call off this whole,” Aela waved a hand between the two of them, “thing.”
Incredulity washed over his face before his features resumed their stony expression, and he hefted his spear into a throwing position—his intention clear.
“Run,” he gritted out.
“Worth asking,” Aela said, not waiting a moment longer to spin around and dash away.
If she was good at one thing, it was running for her life.
Aela weaved her way between the celestial pillars and resisted the temptation to look behind her to see if Lion Face was chasing her.
She needed a plan and another weapon. The swift, initial crack of his spear across her nose had disarmed her.
Resolve settled its way into her stomach as the knowledge slowly sank in that she was unlikely to survive this day.
She hadn’t done nearly enough—hadn’t even truly lived.
If she was favored by the Fates, perhaps they had plans for her and she would be spared from The Games. That hope was a beacon, however small, and Aela clung to it as if it were a precious crystal while she dashed through the sand.
She hurtled around the next column to catch her breath.
A quick glance at the crowd revealed their displeasure that she hadn’t put on more of a show.
She had almost made a complete circuit of the coliseum when she peeked out from behind the column and saw where she had let go of her spear.
The weapon lay discarded in the sand ahead of her.
Aela’s gaze darted around, seeking Lion Face.
She didn’t love the idea of putting herself out in the open again, but she needed a weapon.
A frustrated roar rippled through the air as Lion Face stalked her.
Aela subtly pivoted around the base of the column, hoping to remain out of his sight for a moment longer.
Hiding in the arrangement of the celestial columns was nearly impossible.
She reached into the pocket of her slim black pants.
Curling her fingers around what she sought, she slipped her hand from her pocket and took a deep breath.
No more hesitation.
Aela shot forward and sprinted for the spear.
The crowd’s cries for violence grew. She sensed him just as she snatched the spear off the ground, rolled, and then popped up beside a tower of quartz.
Aela slammed the hematite shards in her hand against the column surface.
A black cloud puffed in answer to the crushed stone, and she danced out of her attacker’s reach.
His snarl of surprise had her smiling in grim satisfaction.
The crowd went wild at her witchy tactic, invigorating her.
Aela backed away, eyes scanning the hematite cloud clinging to the air, waiting for Lion Face to emerge.
He stumbled through the cloud, swiping his spear ahead of him in savage arcs while his eyes were clamped shut.
“Stings, doesn’t it?” Aela taunted.
Her opponent stopped swinging his spear and blinked furiously, trying to clear the hematite dust from his eyes.
“Enough of this!” he bellowed. “Fight me!”
Aela plunged her spear into the ground beside her and leaned on it with feigned casualness.
“Oh, but I am. You haven’t fought the likes of me before,” she said with false bravado.
The surrounding din had gone quiet as some stars in attendance strained to hear what the combatants in the pit were saying, while others were too lost in the thrall of violence to cease their hollering.
“What’s your name, Lion?” Aela asked in a cool voice.
“We are not exchanging pleasantries,” Lion Face retorted with a glance over his shoulder toward the box seating at the far end of the arena. Aela followed his gaze.
“No? If we’re to end each other, we might as well know whose life we’re snuffing out. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“No.”
“Have it your way, then.”
Before the words were fully out of her mouth, Aela kicked the end of the spear to where her throwing hand was waiting. She sent the spear flying, but Lion Face’s hand snapped out and caught the tipped blade in an enormous fist. Aela’s shoulders slumped.
He glared at her as he lifted a knee and snapped her spear in two before discarding the broken shafts on either side of him. Aela backed away.
His deep brown eyes tightened, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Then he lunged for her.
She threw her forearms up as his spear cracked against her, rattling her bones.
She hissed in pain but managed to stay upright.
Aela gave ground and dodged as best as she could.
She was no match for him. His spear clipped her legs, sending her sprawling into the sand.
She twisted her boots around the blade, managing to jerk the weapon out of his grip.
On her back, Aela snapped her crystal necklace off, clutching it in her fist. Tucking her elbows tightly against her ribs and fists covering her face, she withstood blow after blow that he rained down on her.
He let up to reach for his spear, and that was all the break she needed.
In a burst of speed, Aela rolled out from under him. She stepped on the hand reaching for his spear and latched onto his shoulder, clambering onto his back. As he reached back for her, she swung the quartz necklace between her hands and pulled it taut across his neck.
He rocked forward and forced Aela from his back. She sprang up, her quartz necklace lost to the sand. Aela pivoted as fast as she could, but she wasn’t fast enough.
His towering frame collided with hers, and they flew into one of the celestial quartz columns, causing it to topple into another.
Aela couldn’t afford to register the pain flaring from her torso or the back of her head as she smacked and clawed at her attacker’s face.
She yanked down on the lion fur around his head, shimmied up the column at her back, and struck her knee into his throat.
The warrior coughed and rolled off her into the sand.
Aela turned and climbed up the fallen column, which was leaning precariously onto the next celestial pillar.
Her feet were steady, even if her plan wasn’t.
Lion Face recovered quicker than she would have hoped and climbed after her. A vise grip around her ankle sent her careening into the sandpit. Her back hit first, air fleeing her lungs. He pounced on her. Straddling her in the sand, he wrenched her arms above her head.
Aela gritted her teeth and strained against his hold, but she was no match for his strength. She let out a frustrated scream, and the male reared his head back with a grimace. Lion Face glowered at her, and fire danced within his eyes.
“Who are you?” Aela asked, distracted by the embers warming his deep brown irises.
Black rope-like hair peeked out from beneath the lion mane fanning across his leather-clad chest. His grip tightened on her wrists.
“Zosma,” he said harshly.
“Zosma, great. There. Now we’re talking. My name is Aela. I don’t want to fight you. I just want to go home.”
She hadn’t meant to say the last bit that slipped out, but as death hovered, her consciousness loosened its grip on her truth.
Pity flickered across his face before resuming its stoic expression. “There is no getting out of this. We must fight to the death.” He released her hands and stepped off her.
“I really don’t want to kill you,” she whispered, yet it was loud enough for him to hear. Zosma threw his head back and barked a bitter laugh with his arms spread wide.
“You? Kill me?”
The crowd heckled.
“Hasn’t this realm seen enough bloodshed?” she hissed, standing. “Or are you like the Gods of old and enjoy controlling others for your gain? You would rather see a fellow celestial crippled and bleeding out on the ground if it meant extending your own life—”
“—watch your mouth,” he snarled. “I hold no affection for the Gods.” Zosma armed himself with another spear.
Where does he keep getting those?
Aela sucked on her teeth and shifted her feet. “Fine,” she spat. “I just think there’s already enough stacked against us without pitting formidable warriors against one another in a sick game.”
“I’d hardly call you formidable.” Even with his jest, her words found their mark as the embers in his eyes winked out.