Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Everything you love can be weaponized.
MALACH
Never in my twenty-seven years have I been this helpless.
I press against the barrier, but it’s as sturdy as it was the last time we were carted into this godsforsaken place.
Ciprian reaches the mass of snakes orbiting Celine’s rock, and his eyes lose focus.
I grind my teeth, recognizing the signs.
He shouldn’t cast nightmares unless someone is there to watch his back. While focusing on his magical senses, he loses full control of the others. Ciprian’s illusions are powerful, but random chance still exists—an opponent could run into him by accident and tear him to pieces.
Luca surrounds him in his coils, and my shoulders relax.
Whatever Ciprian is showing the remaining snakes, it disrupts their trajectories. Instead of a well-oiled contingent of serpents rolling in perfect formation, they become loose wheels tossed onto pavement, careening and wobbling at random.
Celine jumps down from the rock and swings her sword, lopping the head off the nearest snake. She works her way through them with efficiency, a smile spreading across her face as she looks at Alistair and me, then Riven expectantly.
She thinks they’ve won, but I’m not sure.
The veydra won’t meet her eyes. He’s focused instead on the packed stands of spectators. “They’ve survived round one. Do you think they can handle what’s next?”
The crowd goes wild.
More odds flash on the screen. They’re dire.
I press my hand against the barrier.
Something is wrong. Riven is deviating from the previous pattern. At first glance, he looks the same—a performer embodying his favorite role. Then his waxy amber profile glitches, once, twice. Riven’s mask is slipping.
Alistair looks at me and his hands curls to fists. My stomach flips.
The game has changed, but the veydra doesn’t like the new rules. He’s in charge here. These decisions are his, unless . . . S’lach. My gut twists uncomfortably. Why now? What’s the purpose? Why would he want to—
Agony burrows into my brain. I list against the side of the barrier. It’s all I can do not to fall to my knees. A second stab of pain sears the skin above my pelvis. It’s excruciating. And familiar. Not now. No. I’m strong enough.
I force my eyes open and find myself staring into Alistair’s ruby-red eyes. He mouths something, but I’m hurting too badly to understand. Using every tool in my arsenal to wall off the pain, I drag my attention back to the fight.
Whatever this is, Celine pushed for it—negotiating to free us both. The least I can do is watch, even if she shouldn’t have bothered on my behalf.
The ground shakes.
My vision blurs, but it’s not so blurry that I miss the enormous beast entering the arena.
With the body of a cat, the face of a man, and the tail of a scorpion, I’ve only ever heard of the beast in passing: manticore.
They’re rumored to have been hunted to extinction—rumors, clearly exaggerated.
This one makes Luca’s basilisk look like a pet.
It stalks the three of them, keeping its gaze away from Luca’s face and showcasing the intelligence it’s famous for.
Celine and Ciprian retreat to the tallest rock. Luca curls around the base and emits a terrible warning rattle.
The crowd gasps with delight as the manticore paws the ground, sending clouds of dust and snow high into the air. Its flanks are covered in scars. I wince as I catalog the marks.
This monster has seen many battles.
The three of them have never fought together before. If they fall out of step, this beast will kill them as easily as they killed the snakes.
Ciprian whispers in Celine’s ear, then focuses on the monster. It careens to the left and crashes into the arena wall face-first.
Terrified bystanders scream, tripping over each other to get away.
Shaking its massive head, the manticore regains its footing and begins to vibrate. The human face disappears, replaced with a lion’s. The animal crouches low, belly grazing the sand, and advances toward their position by crawling from rock to rock.
Ciprian frowns, curls his fingers around Celine’s hip to orient himself, and closes his eyes. His face twists into harsh lines, every angle sharpened.
A single drop of blood drips from his right nostril. It splatters on the rock below.
The manticore doesn’t stop.
Every few steps it pauses to shake its head, and then crawls closer. A fissure of fear creeps up my chest. It’s locked on its prey, throwing off Ciprian’s nightmare as it advances.
This creature is too strong.
My legs tremble, and I drop to my knees. My eyes long to close, but I won’t allow that.
Celine looks at Ciprian, at Luca’s basilisk, then at Alistair and me.
Her eyes burn.
There’s no part of her giving up this fight.
I force myself back to my feet, hating myself for my show of weakness.
If Celine struggles. If she hurts. If she falls, I’ll be here.
I will stand with her—whether it’s by her side with a sword in my hand or here on this platform trapped by magic—until we’re ripped from this world and all the others.
I made vows to her, and I’ll keep them no matter what it costs me.
The manticore pauses and studies them cautiously, its yellow eyes drifting between them one by one. Searching for weaknesses. An opening in their defense.
Celine adjusts her grip on the sword and nudges Ciprian.
His cheekbones return to normal, and his black eyes lock on the beast. He stumbles slightly and widens his stance to stay upright. I grimace. The nightmare weakened him, and there’s no hiding it. Not from me, or the manticore, or the bloodthirsty crowd.
Celine positions herself in front of him.
The manticore snorts, steam rising from its nose. It’s a standoff. They hold the high ground. That’s good. They should stay there, make the beast come to them and—
Luca unwraps from the rock and heads straight for the monster.
Celine yells at him, but he doesn’t stop or turn back. He plows straight ahead, sliding through the sand in a straight, determined line.
The manticore paws the ground, a twisted smirk spreading over its mouth.
I scream Luca’s name, begging him to stop as I beat on the invisible barrier. I know he can’t hear me, but I have to try. “Don’t go alone.”
Celine doesn’t let him.
Terror rocks me as she leaps from the rock and sprints after him, the longsword gripped in her hand. She’s strong and fast, but Luca’s size is an advantage. Even sliding on his belly, his basilisk moves fast.
Alistair’s mouth falls open in a silent scream; his hands glued to the barrier. The blue of his eyes is nothing but a distant memory. Red devours the white and black until it’s all I can see.
He’s figured out what I already know: Celine won’t be able to catch Luca.
He’ll face the manticore alone, and he doesn’t stand a chance.
The manticore braces for a collision, digging its feet into the sand, and I frown. Why would it want that?
Only ten feet remain between them.
Luca’s plan is worryingly simple. Force the manticore to look him in the eye by getting way too close. But the beast is made of weapons; it’s too risky.
I glance at the rock. Ciprian isn’t there anymore. Gods above, where has he gone?
I scan the arena, but don’t see him anywhere. I don’t have time to search further because Luca and the manticore collide.
The monster twists at the last second and brings its scorpion tail around.
“Watch out,” I scream. I’m too late. So is Luca.
The stinger pierces his neck. Cracking his scales, it comes out wet with blood. The manticore chuffs, but it doesn’t account for Celine. She hurtles over Luca’s head and severs the bloody tail with her sword.
It falls to the sand, oozing blood and venom, where it twitches and turns the snow into a viscous, bubbling slurry. The puddle crystallizes, and the manticore screams with rage as it stares at its severed tail.
Celine swings her sword again, this time at its neck, but it’s not distracted anymore. It dodges her blow and swipes at her. She barely ducks in time.
Luca spasms, and his body curls around itself. His yellow eyes are wide and bleary with pain. Gods. I should be down there. I would give anything to be free of this cage and fighting by their sides.
A flicker of movement catches my attention. I squint, but there’s nothing there. When I broaden my search, I catch a warping in the sand about ten feet from the thrashing monster. Ciprian.
I hold my breath.
The manticore sniffs the air; it senses something is wrong, but it can’t ignore Celine. She’s attacking with everything she has. Screaming with rage, she swings the blade in sweeping arcs. One strike clips the monster’s foot and wets her blade with fresh blood.
Luca collapses, his eyes wide as he stares at the beast. My blood goes cold. His body is limp, unable to coil any longer. His eyelids flutter. No. Hold on, Luca. Hold on.
Celine tries to drive the manticore into his line of sight. It isn’t falling for it. Every time she presses closer, it retreats, glowering with a ferocity that makes the hair on my arms and neck stand on end.
When Ciprian reappears, I freeze. His back is to Luca, and he’s facing the manticore armed with a branch. He’s completely unprotected, wobbling on his feet. Gods, no! The manticore pounces and lands on nothing.
Ciprian isn’t there.
It was a nightmare.
The manticore freezes, then looks directly into Luca’s yellow stare.
The petrification takes a lifetime. One paw hardens first, then the severed tail, followed by the body. By the time the manticore’s head turns to stone, Luca’s entire body is rigid too. His head doesn’t fall back to the sand. I wish it would.
Ciprian reappears to the side, staggering and falling to his knees.
The crowd explodes, roaring with excitement.
But I can’t look away from the sand. The fight is won, but at what cost?
Blood streams from both of Ciprian’s nostrils, coating his lips and soaking the neck of his shirt. Luca is impossibly still. Celine glances between them frantically. Strands of red hair have escaped her braids. They whip against her cheeks as the wind tears through the arena.
The sword falls from her hand. Then she’s running, yanking her shirt off and wrapping it around Luca’s wound. Blood soaks through the fabric in seconds.
Ciprian crawls to them, every inch of ground painfully won, until he’s close enough to curl his hand around Celine’s calf. The change is instantaneous. His head snaps up, then he stumbles to his feet shakily and adds his shirt to the makeshift tourniquet.
Her terror for Luca healed him. At least partially. I shudder. The amount of fear required to replace what Ciprian lost in battle . . . I need to get down there.
Riven says something to the crowd.
I don’t hear a word.
The only thing I care about is the platform under my feet slowly dropping.
My hands, pressed against the invisible barrier, shoot forward as it deactivates. Then I’m running. Feet sinking into the sand. I’ve never run faster.
Alistair beats me there. His fingers tremble as he reaches for Luca. They come back coated with blood. “Let me seal it,” he whispers. “Angel, let me try; he’s losing too much.”
“Stay awake for me, Luca!” Celine’s voice is thick with unshed tears. “Don’t you dare leave me. You promised. You promised you never would.”
I help her unwind the shirts, glancing at Alistair’s ruby stare. I don’t know if his plan will work. From the wild, frenzied gleam in his eyes, he’s not sure either.
Once the puncture is exposed, Alistair makes quick work of sealing it. My shoulders sag as the bleeding slows to a crawl. I clap my hand on his back. He’s trembling like a leaf. “You did a good job,” I say. “See? He’s not bleeding anymore.”
“But his heartbeat,” Ali gasps. “It’s too slow.”
I grit my teeth. We all hear it. “Should he shift back?”
“I don’t think he can,” Ciprian murmurs.
“Please,” Celine sobs. When her voice breaks, something inside me does too.
Luca’s eyes flicker open. They’re a faded, streaky yellow and coated in white film. A pained sound comes from low in his throat.
“You’re going to be okay,” Celine says. “I know you are. Stay awake, please, Luca. Please.”
Gods, he tries.
I can tell he does.
But his heart slows further. His eyes flutter closed again. They don’t reopen.
Then his giant, serpentine body turns back into a man.
It’s too easy. Not a shift at all, but a final form. Permanent.
I wait for his next heartbeat—listening for it with all I have.
It doesn’t come.
Celine throws her head back and screams.