12. The Triad
THE TRIAD
Seraphina
The sparring yard is so loud, Silver has to practically shout to be heard over the yells and clangs coming from the practice rings belonging to Aes and Stannum, who are still running drills, trying to determine a champion.
In Ferrum’s circle, the Overlord calls us to gather, while Az is still catching his breath. Sweat runs down the side of his face, dripping off his forehead and jaw enough to darken the ash at his feet.
He’s just finished ten straight rounds of winner-stays-on, taking on half of our unit, one after another.
Somehow, he’s still standing, though barely.
His hair is plastered to his forehead, his chest heaving, but he’s upright at least, which is more than can be said for the other cadets scattered around Ferrum’s practice ring, groaning like wounded animals.
Az lifts a hand weakly. “If anyone else wants a turn, please wait until after I’ve regained custody of my lungs.”
Silver steps to the edge of the circle, arms folded across his chest. “Nice job, Thorne,” he says to Az before turning to the rest of us. “But I think you’ve scared them all off.”
His gaze sweeps over us, eight cambion, plus Diana and I, sweating from the suffocating sun rather than from being thrown around the ash by Azazel Thorne.
“Luckily for the cowards among us, the first Triad will begin shortly,” Silver announces as Khali throws Az her canteen of water.
“As you know, each unit presents one fighter as their Company's champion, then the three champions will enter the Triad ring.” He tilts his head to the largest of the four rings, the one in the center with still smooth ash from the volcanoes’ never ending showers.
“One will win, and Ferrum, Aes and Stannum will be ranked.”
My strategy since we came out here may look like cowardice to Silver—staying quiet, being invisible, and not drawing his attention. But luckily, I wasn’t the only one with that game plan. Half of Ferrum had done the same, certainly enough for him not to get suspicious of me personally.
The heat is truly suffocating here, making Az’s victories even more impressive.
Khali had been vibrating next to me the whole time, cheering him on, while Diana stood at my other side, mouth open, looking like she’d never witnessed a fight before.
Then again, why would she have? Fights only really broke out in the human villages, not because humans are particularly barbaric, but because they had more to get angry about.
When our bunk mate, Garrick, had stepped into the ring and wound up missing several teeth, Diana went so pale, I had to reach out a hand to make sure she wasn’t going to fall.
“I’ll allow volunteers before I name our champion,” Silver’s gray-gold eyes sweep the group. “Step forward if you wish to be the first to represent Ferrum Company.”
Only a few hands raise. Even Lilliana is quiet as most cadets pretend to be fascinated by their boots or too injured on the ash to compete.
When no more hands go up, his expression doesn’t change, but there’s a faint tightening at the corner of his mouth.
Disappointment or understanding, it’s impossible to tell.
I’m not foolish enough to volunteer.
Each unit will put their biggest and best forward, and there’s no way I can downplay my abilities when the alternative is being pummeled by a fist the size of my head or swiped at with a taloned wing or one of the many weapons hanging from the carts dotted around the yard.
Even if I’m not the aggressor, I’ll have to dodge attacks in the ways I’ve had to learn without wings. It will raise eyebrows and unwanted questions about why I use unconventional methods.
Silver nods slowly. “You should all be aware that eventually each of you will enter the Triad. This isn’t just about our unit ranking highest, it’s about earning the respect of the people standing next to you now.”
Az, still bent slightly with his hands on his knees, lifts a finger. “Do we earn bonus respect if we already took down ten before entering? Asking for me.”
I choke back a laugh.
Silver looks directly at him. “Thorne.”
Az straightens to attention at the command in Silver’s voice, though he’s still breathing hard. “Phew. Rescued from having to stand voluntarily. Thank you, Overlord.”
Silver ignores him and talks to the group, his stare landing on Garrick, searching the ash with one hand and holding the teeth he’s collected in the other.
“This afternoon, Thorne demonstrated stamina and strength superior to the rest of you,” he says, somehow making the compliment not sound like one at all. “Time and time again.”
Az, still inside the circle with a handful of unconscious cambion around him, takes a bow.
“Think you can go again?” Silver asks, arching a challenging eyebrow.
“For fucks sake,” Az groans. “It was the bow, wasn’t it?”
Khali nods. “Too cocky for your own good.”
Ignoring them, Silver turns to the rest of the group. “Any objections to Thorne being Ferrum’s champion?”
A chorus of no’s ring out around our circle.
“Let’s start strong,” someone says.
“Yes. Put the best forward,” adds another.
“Good choice,” I mutter, no longer needing to play invisible.
“Are you gonna be okay going again, Az?” Khali asks like the rest of us don’t exist.
He meets her eyes, then nods, more serious than usual. “I’ve got this.”
“Good.” She looks at Silver. “No objections here, Overlord.”
Silver nods, then turns to Az and gestures to the central ring. “Report for the Triad.”
Az jogs toward it, well, ‘jogs’ is generous. It’s more like a determined shuffle. He calls back over his shoulder, “If I collapse on the way, someone drag me over gently. I bruise easily.”
Cadets from all three units flood toward the central ring, and I squeeze my way to the rock border in time to see the two opposing champions enter.
The first, a massive male cambion with ember-lit eyes and thick horns comes from Aes, Zaheer slapping him on the back and wishing him luck as he crosses into the circle.
Then, a tall female cambion whose sharp, reptilian wings are already on display, exchanges a few words with Yuvi before stepping in for Stannum.
Something both soft and hard pushes against my leg, and I glance down, expecting to see a cadet crawling past to get to the front, but my heart skips a beat when I see it’s the hellhound.
“Really, Ravi?” I mutter, surprised at myself for not putting more space between us like the cadets around us have. “Shouldn’t you be over on Stannum’s side with the Overlord who owns you?”
I glance across the ring, and my eyes meet with Yuvi’s. He shrugs, looking as confused as I am as to why the hound seems hellbent on stalking me.
“Bitch is a damned traitor,” he calls over.
Ravi howls.
Silver shakes his head, throwing daggers at her with his eyes, and for some reason, I reach down and give her a scratch behind the ear. She leans into it, almost knocking me over, but when I plant my feet and push back, she eases off, not wanting the fuss to end.
Az finally joins the other two in the ring and looks between them. He wipes sweat from his brow. “Just so you know, I’ve already fought ten people since lunch, so if I fall asleep, clap loudly.”
The female cambion smirks, but there's no humor to it. While the male actually chuckles, though the sound is more of a deep rumble.
Zaheer lifts a horn to his mouth, blows, and the signal sounds to start.
Aes’s champion charges first, no weapon, a boulder of a fist raised, trained on Az’s face. Az side-steps, barely in time.
“Whoa,” he says as the male goes barreling past. Then quicker than I can blink, Az turns so he’s behind the other male, and launches a well-placed kick, booting the male hard enough to break his tailbone.
It adds to the momentum and Aes’s champion hurtles toward the edge of the ring and over it.
“Out!” Silver yells. “Aes, third place.”
The crowd roars, a mix of both cheers and boos.
Wow, that was quick.
But there’s no time to celebrate, because the female is right behind Az.
I want to cry out, to warn him, but clamp my jaw tight, teeth grinding. Az turns, but it’s too late, the talon of her right wing comes slicing toward his neck.
“Fuck!” Az yells as he twists away. Vast wings, leathery and ridged with jagged edges, dark veins and thick bones snap out from his back and curl around him protectively in the nick of time.
“Bastard!” the female curses, then bends her knees and pushes up into the sky.
“Same rules apply in the air,” Yuvi shouts up at them. “If you fly out of the circle, you’re out!”
Her wings are not as wide as Az’s, but they are still pretty magnificent for a demon, especially with the sun shining through the taut, scale-like skin that stretches between the bones, making them glow with a green hue.
“She must be from Invidia,” Diana mumbles from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed she was there, watching over my shoulder.
“Huh?” I ask, keeping my eyes to the sky as Az unfolds his wings and propels himself upward to join the female. It’s the second time Diana has mumbled something similar.
“The green of her wings, that’s how you can tell which kingdom they’re from,” she clarifies.
“Green for Invidia, red for Ira, orange for Gula…” She lists them like she’s reciting one of her demonology textbooks.
“Dark blue for Luxuria,” she finishes as I watch Az’s navy wings slice the air with a hiss, while the female’s narrower, more flexible wings twist and coil, allowing her to dart with impossible speed.
They circle one another, Az coming dangerously close to where I imagine the boundary line of rocks would be. Their eyes are locked, each movement a careful calculation of distance, momentum and lethal intent.
When Az dives toward her, she twists mid-air, letting the wind catch her wings to whip around him.
The force of their passing gusts makes the ash below stir like a storm.
Several cadets cry out as they get a face full of it, and Az uses the distraction to dart forward and wrap a giant hand around the female's wrist.
He pulls her down with him so they both come crashing toward the ground.