by Poppy Rhys
Dania clamped her other hand over her mouth, trying her best to not laugh and spit the bubbling paste everywhere. She swished one more time and spewed it on the dirty ground where Jruviin pointed.
Her whole body shivered with revulsion. “I said, it tastes like ass!”
Val’Koy’s eyes instantly narrowed. “You eat ass?”
“No!”
“But you said—”
“It’s just another thing humans say. I imagine that’s what ass would taste like.” They stared at her, then at the bottle of paste, seemingly unconvinced. “I bet my breath smells like ass now too.”
Jruviin leaned in before she could move away and sniffed her mouth. “Odorless.”
“Okay, let’s go before this gets weirder.”
Soon after, they checked in at the Trenches.
“Wait here,” Jru said and then hauled their belongings up to what she guessed was their new den for however long.
“When is your next fight?”
“In a few hours.”
Her stomach twisted.
“Val’Koy?”
“Yes, Dania?”
“What...” she gulped, “what will happen to me if...?” She couldn’t finish. To her surprise, Val stroked her naked calf with his soft tail.
“We will protect you.” He said it so earnestly, she almost forgot the alternative. But truly, he didn’t answer her question. She knew they’d protect her while they were alive, but... what would happen if they lost?
Dania’s hand trembled, and she balled it into a fist. It stunned her to think she wasn’t only worried about what would happen to her, but them. The thought of them being torn apart in the arena, enduring a death like the gruesome ones she’d seen when her eye had been hacked... it nearly made her retch.
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
Dania appreciated—yet disliked—Val’Koy’s answer. She knew no one could predict the future. Hell, she never could have dreamed she’d be right here, right now, even if someone had held a blaster to her head and demanded she think of the most fucked up situation she’d be in.
Becoming a possession to two fighters on an illegal gaming planet—after being abducted and nearly auctioned off—wouldn’t have made it to her top five fucked up scenarios. Probably not even top ten.
Homeless, selling her toenail clippings to Wi’pix—hey, it’s a thing—or even milking giant Yutinian slugs came to mind, but not this.
Jruviin landed in front of them. “Ready to see the new competition?”
TWENTY-FIVE
JRUVIIN
A new round had started. Every quarter, hordes of new fighters would enter the arena—sometimes by choice, sometimes by force.
For a span of weeks, the sponsors who had new fighters would be enlisting their stock. Jruviin remembered his entry fight. He had just met Val’Koy and was prepared to give up, having nothing left—nothing to his name—except his hide. He never wanted to become a fighter, but Val’Koy had found reason enough for both of them.
He hadn’t been thankful then, but now... Jruviin glanced at Dania. Now, he was thankful.
They traveled to the highest stands, those farthest from the pit where only the poorest of guests sat. Fighters frequently spectated during this time purely to gauge future opponents. From this distance, the newcomers in the arena resembled animated toys, but his keen sight was narrowed in.
“Why are we here?” Dania asked, standing between him and Val’Koy. Her peculiar, yet pretty, eyes were wide, the dark lashes long and upturned while she watched as a large brown furred beast roared and swiped at the two-fighter team.
“To see the competition,” he answered.
“Why? Will you be fighting those people?”
“Perhaps one day.”
“These are the entry rounds,” Val’Koy told her and, out of the corner of Jruviin’s eye, he noticed his teammate wrap his tail around her exposed ankle. An unexpected pang of jealousy ruffled his feathers as his own tail twitched, desiring to touch her extremely soft skin.
The fighter he’d come to know was changing. Val’Koy had laughed last night—unfortunately, at his expense—but it was honest mirth Jruviin had never seen him display.
The female between them was affecting his partner in ways he didn’t understand, though he was... thankful. Jruviin felt a pull toward her as well, and it wasn’t entirely based on her delicious pheromones.
Dania captivated his attention. He wanted to know more about her.
“Entry rounds?”
Val’Koy nodded. “It is where the new fighters demonstrate if they can best two rounds of beasts and operate as a team. Those who succeed will be allowed into the circuit.”
“The circuit being all the sector arenas?”
“Yes.”
“Did you guys have to do this too?”
Jruviin shared a glance with Val’Koy before answering, “Yes. We were the only team to survive our batch.”
Dania watched on, but her chin lifted a notch. In a voice barely above the boorish jeering of the crowd, she revealed, “I’m glad you guys made it.”
Why did that single admission dumbfound him? She straightened her shoulders as if... proud. Proud to be standing next to the only survivors of their entry round.
His tail snaked closer to her leg. It twitched and curled itself around her other calf. Jruviin watched her in his peripheral, waiting for the slightest cue that she was uncomfortable, but it never came. She let him wrap his appendage around her limb as if he’d been doing it for years.
Jruviin’s feathers along his chest minimally raised with the satisfaction he experienced.
“Where do these people come from?”
“All over,” Val’Koy rumbled above the crowd when the first team made it through their second beast, earning their spot in the circuit. “Some are here of their own free will to fight for money or recognition.”
There were battles every few hours at all twenty-two sectors during a new round. For weeks, individuals landed on Tundrin and sponsors brought in new teams, most trained in prior fighting styles before being brought here. Some came willingly, others served sentences, many were here against their wishes.
Dania’s forehead wrinkled. She did that whenever she was thinking, confused, or upset. This human was so expressive.
“And the ones that aren’t here of their own free will?” The sound of her voice licked over his quills like ceremonial smoke. “Are they the ones with sponsors?”
The tip of Jruviin’s tail flicked against her calf while wrapped around her. “All fighters must have a sponsor to enter the circuit, whether they are here purposefully or not. Hae’deth’s rules.”
“Voluntary enslavement, you mean.” She shook her head. “Considering the sponsor gets a large cut of the winnings. Seems unfair.”
“This is Hae’deth,” Val’Koy grunted. “They have no dealings in what is fair, only what is profitable.”
Dania shook her head once more, her tangled, curly mop swaying. Jruviin would need to use his claws again to assist her.
“How...” she swallowed, “how did you two end up here?”
Jruviin’s feathers flattened against his chest, his previous satisfaction deflating as the painful memory of being sold to Hae’deth—and subsequently Vu’Mal’Su—resurfaced.
He knew every battle he fought, his father watched—waiting for him to win or lose, survive or die. Yet, Jruviin still lived. Piktiin would be pleased and the thought made Jruviin’s spine quills raise and his talons curl.
During the worst time of Jruviin’s life, Piktiin would finally be proud.
****
DANIA
Another beast was unleashed, and another team was torn into ribbons by what looked like a pitch-black mutation of some exotic polar bear spliced with praying mantis. She grimaced. The next team was pushed into the arena and slayed the monster, along with the next one unleashed.
Spectators nearby roared with savage zeal and placed bets on every fres
h team that bested their share of hideous predators. Dania glanced away, the gore summoning a flashback from when her eye got hacked.
The atmosphere thickened, and she felt as if it were physically solidifying. She’d been full of questions, so curious to know how this all worked. But the more they told her, the more she saw, the more confused she became.
When she’d first met Val’Koy, there had been two big, imposing bodyguards flanking his every move. She didn’t know who he was or what he did, but he had to be someone important, right?
Maybe she’d been wrong in her assumptions. Maybe he was a businessman, but someone who dealt in shady shit. Was he here because of some negotiation gone wrong?
Dania didn’t know these two very well, but her survival senses were pinging, cautioning her to tread carefully.
When she didn’t think either would answer, Jruviin confessed: “My father sold me to Hae’deth.” His voice was bereft of emotion and Dania thought it was purposefully done—like he didn’t want to give the admission more weight than it already bore.
She involuntarily sucked in a breath before she could consciously stop it, and Jruviin flinched.
His own father?
“Why?” She didn’t mean to sound offended, yet it was the truth. It did offend her that someone had mistreated Jruviin. “Why would anyone send their son here?”
His eyes didn’t meet hers but kept to the arena below. “I failed him. Hae’deth would force me to become a true male and bring honor to his household.”
Dania’s frown tipped farther downward, and she reached out, curling her fingers around Jruviin’s clenched fist. He immediately looked down at their connection and relaxed his hand, allowing her to thread her fingers through his.
“You aren’t a failure,” she assured, squeezing his hand. “Kindness isn’t a flaw. Besides, you have more guts than anyone I know.”
Jruviin didn’t say any more, but Dania saw his spine straighten, his shoulders relax and his demeanor change. His father was clearly a piss-poor excuse of existence, and she hoped he forgot about him.
Her eyes skittered over the arena, but the sand was so discolored with blood and viscera, she quickly looked off to the side until she watched Val’Koy.
“What about you? How did you get here?” Call her crazy, but there was a sinking feeling that what he was going to say—after the things he’d confronted her about in the dressing room—she wouldn’t like.
Val’Koy’s eyes were no longer the pretty green she’d come to admire, but the unnerving black. She hadn’t quite figured out why his eyes did that. Dania wondered if Jruviin shared that trait, but she’d only ever seen his eyes a solid black. Did he have color too?
“I fell for a lie,” Val’Koy finally admitted, his voice rumbling just above a growl.
Her hesitation was heavy, but she peeped, “What lie?”
His pink tongue slid across his sharp teeth like he was salivating to tear out someone’s throat. “Our sponsor. Vu’Mal’Su tricked me into believing you and I produced a youngling.”
Dania’s stomach seized, and she thought she might throw up.
“I saw you,” his eyes bore down into hers, “and him. I had my suspicions. The Trepnils and my people hold no good will toward each other—but I—” he grunted air, nostrils flaring before he looked to the arena. “I refused to take that chance.”
TWENTY-SIX
DANIA
“I’m scared.” Dania’s heart thundered in her chest at her admission. The boom of the crowd revved above, echoing through the walls under the stands, just like it had when she had been the prize.
They were in one of the holding rooms around the arena as they waited for the next fight. The familiar stone walls and bad lighting reminiscent of the locker room, sans the lockers. A large metal table took up the middle, and benches lined the walls.
Val’Koy and Jruviin held their weapons: two black metal, blade-tipped spears for Jruviin and a wide, medieval sword, longer than she was tall, for Val’Koy. It was heavier than the thin blade he’d traveled with.
“We will kill quickly.” Val’Koy hesitantly reached for her hand and gently squeezed it, surprising her. She latched on, not letting it immediately drop. She didn’t care if he felt the tremor in her fingers.
Dania knew she was safe if their fingers were clasped.
But what if you die?
Dania didn’t allow herself to think about it. If she believed in jinxes, she was already doomed.
The raw stench of iron and musky sweat, from the freshly finished fight, swept down the long hall that lead directly to the sands and lodged in her lungs.
Step, step, step.
Each footfall brought them closer to the arena. Heat rose from the grainy ground, and light reached into the tunnel from the opening like an outstretched hand ready to drag her to the pit.
They stopped, just inside the shadow of the hall’s mouth. Val’Koy inspected the sword in his hands and Jruviin brushed along her back when he moved to her other side.
“We need you to stay here,” Jruviin instructed her, his toe talons drawing a line in the sand that would keep her in the shadow and out of the light. “Do not move from this spot, do you understand, Dania?”
She nodded unevenly. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”
“Very well,” he murmured, his tone softer. His curled claws came up to brush her exposed collarbone. It warmed her, comforted her. She didn’t want them to leave, yet stopping them wasn’t in her power.
I want to get out of here.
“We will be back,” Val’Koy said with more confidence than she expected. If he was nervous, she couldn’t tell. How many fights had he entered, just like this, and won?
Dania nodded, willing herself to believe.
Their body language shifted as they moved away from her, their focused gazes left her in unison, causing a cold sensation to creep up from the dark. Dania was sure it was all in her head.
From across the arena, another team emerged from the tunnel and she had to grip the wall to keep herself from crossing the line Jruviin had drawn.
“No,” she exhaled.
They were hideous goliaths. Taller than her guys, even as they hunched, with menacingly crimson skin, reminding her of folklore devils, and an underbite with uneven teeth jutting up from their crooked jaws.
As if they could feel her watching them, their yellowed eyes penetrated the shadow she hid in. One of their black tongues hungrily licked its maw.
The crowd silenced, the fighters took their positions, and everyone waited.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
The silence ate at her deteriorating patience. What are they waiting on?
Dania glanced up to the shaded seating area where a sizable crowd of imperious individuals sat upon plush cushions, and one of them was a Trepnil. He stared in her direction and Dania wondered if she was even hidden at all.
That unholy horn blew, making her jump.
With a throaty roar, the lumbering monster facing Val’Koy raised his giant club and swung.
Dania’s teeth gnashed into her bottom lip as she watched Val’Koy hit the sand to avoid the blow.
In moments, he was back on his feet, massive sword swinging with the full weight of his body as he brought it down upon the hunchback’s meaty leg.
The crowd screamed.
A harrowing howl made her skin crawl. The sensation deepened with Val’Koy’s loud grunt as he dislodged the weapon before the monster sank to his knees.
Jruviin drove one spear into the ground, launching himself at his opponent and, as if he knew he couldn’t avoid it entirely, took a hefty punch to his shoulder, moving with the blow.
His clenched spear shoved upward, slicing open his opponent’s side and eliciting a thick hiss of breath. The giant staggered to the side, clenching the cut as if surprised, but Jruviin didn’t wait.
He used that opening to bury his spear in the beast’s massive foot.
Dania covered her ears at the mul
tilayered, animal scream that penetrated her skull.
Moving with light speed, Jruviin yanked his other spear from the ground, aimed, and pulled back, pushing his body into the maneuver.
It drilled into the soft tissue of the giant’s right eye, stunning him to stillness. His face slackened, and he pitched forward. The spear didn’t stop his fall, but drove up and out of his skull, looking like a planted pole.
Dania gulped down her rising bile just as Val’Koy raised his sword high above. In the next breath, muscles bulging with the weight of the weapon, he swung, the metal splitting open the skull of his kneeling opponent.
The screams of the crowd waned into silence. For a moment.
Val’Koy let go of the weapon, and the giant fell to the side, blood spilling from its busted melon like a fountain, further staining the sand.
Gaze lifting, he pinned her with his stare.
They won.
“I-I give you, the Liberator of Limbs and the Prince of the Arena!” The announcer stuttered into the silence, maybe he was as shocked as herself.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
“BOOOOOOOO!” the guests bellowed, jolting her.
Val’Koy stepped over the body as the sand below him moved, little mounds traveling beneath its surface as coin sized, bright red bugs emerged and swarmed the dead fighters.
Dania’s eyes widened, unable to look away as the bugs coated and devoured the corpses and burrowed back into the sand, leaving nothing but the coverings the monsters had worn.
Their feast had taken seconds. Piranhas of the insect kingdom.
Val and Jru were in the shadows again and Dania slid her hands into theirs while they ushered her farther into the hall, away from the upset crowd.
Safe.
“Why isn’t the crowd happy? I don’t understand.” She looked over her shoulder, trying to keep up with their long strides. “You guys won!”
“The fight ended too quickly,” Val’Koy grunted. “The crowd likes it when we prolong the kill.”
Even as they entered the empty showers, the echo of the booing crowd was humming all around them. They’d robbed their salivating fans of a long bloodbath all because of her.
