by Auryn Hadley
Those tickets were cheaper, since there were fewer deaths to see. Not that it mattered. The facility still made more entertaining the masses than they paid for the bodies to do it. After a month, most of those poor souls were injured, worn out, or slowly dying. Sending them up, unarmed, against a veteran gladiator was a gory sight that people paid plenty to see.
And that's what she and Plague would be doing in their next game. Common people who had worked so hard to stay alive would die at the end of her sword. It wasn't something to be proud of, and no matter what Tinas had said that first day, it certainly wasn't a privilege. Thankfully, Plague felt the same way.
"The trick with clean-ups," he said, meaning those types of fights, "is to just keep going until no one else moves. Don't think about it, don't give them a chance. Just kill them as fast as you can, because it's kinder."
"Not a word I'd choose," she muttered.
"It is," he insisted. "Clean kills. They're scared, then they're dead. Don't make them suffer. Don't try to woo the crowd by chopping them apart. No one deserves that. The fools above may love it, but that's because it's not their brother or husband down there. Just kill them fast and clean. I'll stay out of your way, but if you see me miss, put the poor guy down."
"And the ladies?"
He sighed and dropped to sit in the dirt. "You probably won't see one. Theodian said we're taking the last round."
"The Lion said I'm not the only woman in the games, though."
"Nope." He patted the spot beside him, hinting that she should sit. "Amazons, they call them. Until they have about twenty-five wins, no one cares. Novices get lucky; that doesn't mean they're any good."
She accepted the invitation. In the back of her mind, she was amused that the ground was now a luxurious place to relax. "So you're saying that women don't fall into debt?"
Plague shook his head. "I'm saying that most men are too proud to do that. Fathers, husbands, and brothers would all rather die than have it known they let their sister, daughter, or wife be sold off."
She saw him watching her from the corner of his eye. It made her smile. The point was subtle, but she got it. Any man with honor wouldn't let a woman he was responsible for get hacked apart for money.
"My brother didn't like the idea," she explained. "The sword in his gut kept him from taking my place."
Plague's reply was little more than a breath. "I'm sorry, Wolf."
"Yeah. Just one more reason to survive, I guess. Revenge."
He reached over and rubbed her shoulder. "Sounds good to me. Too bad I don't have anyone to cut apart to make me feel better. Just figured if I was smarter, I could have a better life. I didn't even get to finish before the debt got collected." He lifted both hands, gesturing around them. "Little shit like me? I thought I was a goner my first fight."
"Me too. I killed someone's grandfather to stay alive." She could still remember the look in that old man's eyes.
"If you didn't, then the guy behind you would have."
"But it wouldn't have been me."
He murmured deep in his throat. "True. You think the old man cares if he was killed by you or someone else? Or is dead just dead?"
"I think the gods have their reasons, and they shape our next lives."
Plague leaned back, looking up at the stars. "So this is our destiny?"
"I dunno," she groaned. "Maybe it's the catalyst?"
That made him look. "Big word for a fancy lady."
"I'm not fancy, and it's not that big of a word."
"Bigger than most people know." His eyes sparkled, proving he was teasing her. "So why is being thrown into the games a catalyst?"
Maybe she'd said too much. Leyli tried to shrug it off, but Plague was intrigued. He leaned closer, every line of his body waiting for the answer. Finally, she gave in.
"Because killing people changes us. It makes us stronger in some ways and softer in others. I think the gods are sculpting us, molding us to be what they need." Before he could ask, she clarified, "I'm also not a god to understand such things."
"Or maybe you just want a happy ending?"
Leyli shook her head. "There's no happy ending for me, Plague. The moment I stepped on the sand, all of my good options disappeared."
"Yeah."
For a moment they sat there in silence. She'd already spent the day swinging her sword, spear, dagger, and more. She didn't need these hours of training, but getting to know her next partner would help. If she understood him, then she could predict him. If she was lucky, that might be enough to save his life, or for him to save hers.
Plague's next question came out of the blue. "What's it like?"
"What?"
He chuckled, realizing how vague that was. "Fighting tandem. There's a team here, and half the guys say they must be lovers or something. I just wondered if that's how it was with you and the Lion."
"No." She didn't put much effort into denying it, because she didn't really care anymore. "The chain is heavy, but after awhile it becomes a part of us. Every sway of it told me so much. I knew if he was struggling, or which way he would turn next." She paused. "But it wasn't just the chain."
"What's it like?" he asked again.
She looked up at the stars, but they didn't help. Instead, she stared down by her ankles. Leaning a bit farther, her finger made swirls in the sand before her crossed legs. How could she explain it in a way that made sense? While she thought, Plague just waited. She made another swirl, and finally knew the words.
"It's like your hand." Leyli held up hers as an example. "Each finger is unique, but they're a part of the whole. Some can do certain things." She stuck out her thumb, then changed to her index finger. "Others don't work well without a partner." Leyli tried to point with just her ring finger, but the pinky mimicked it.
Plague bent his fingers, trying to do the same. Like hers, his pinky refused to obey. He could hold it down with his thumb, but without a restraint, it simply would not abandon the finger beside it. Suddenly, he laughed.
"I'd never noticed that before."
"Yeah," she agreed. "Kinda like I never noticed how much space there is behind me until he wasn't there to fill it."
Chapter 28
Before she was ready, another game was upon them. Just like with Merino's team, she was piled into a cart with a handful of other fighters. At least Plague was among them. Leyli was one of the first into the wagon, so she headed right to the front, claiming the long padded seat for herself. Two more men showed up, then Plague. She gestured for the little man to join her. He didn't need to be asked twice.
The next group that climbed in weren't men she knew, but from the way her friend tensed, he did. One of them – naturally, the biggest – glared at her. While the other two claimed a spot at the back, he strode past them until he was right before her.
"That's my place."
Leyli made a dismissive gesture. "Was. It's mine now."
So he turned to Plague. "Move, runt."
He took a deep breath, but shook his head. "Not today, Vulture."
"Move, or I'll make sure you regret it."
Leyli had enough. Surging off the bench, she shoved her body into his face. "Back the fuck off my friend, or you'll be the one regretting it. Or didn't you hear?"
"Hear what?"
Her smile was truly evil. "I made the right friends when I showed up."
"Why the fuck do I care about that?"
Slowly, she licked her lips, forcing him to pay attention and wait for her next words. "Because it means I'm allowed weapons in my rooms and to wander the compound at night. The guards won't stop me, and they won't care whose room I sneak into."
He laughed in her face. "Is that a threat?"
She flicked both brows up. "Yep. Go sit where you belong, bird."
"Fuck off, bitch."
He sounded tough, but the bastard went to sit down just like she'd said. The trick was to never look afraid. If she looked like they couldn't bother her, then her threats had even mo
re weight. Never mind that they were true. After spending a week with the man who owned her life, he was as much a friend as Plague. Neither of them compared to Tristan, but no one ever would.
Eventually, the cart started moving. After about half an hour, the men began to talk among themselves and the tension faded. Beside her, Plague stretched out, leaving space beside him for her to do the same. Where the Lion had pressed her against his chest, Plague put his head at the other end. His feet were beside her hip, and hers were next to his. The position never would have worked if either of them were any bigger.
She managed to get a little nap. It wasn't the most restful, but it was better than fretting. For the first time in her life, Leyli was going to an arena without Tristan. She wouldn't have a companion in the next cell to calm her fears. She wouldn't have a partner to rub her shoulders and help her stretch before her next round. The worst part, though, was that she didn't even know if he was still alive.
At least Plague wasn't the chatty type. He barely said a word the entire trip. She wasn't sure she could manage a polite conversation, not with the way her mind was spinning in circles. It seemed like everything reminded her of the Lion. The cart, the bench, and even the men in the back, it was too close to what she'd been through with Tristan. Then they reached the arena and she realized something else she was going to miss. Having him lift her out of the back.
While the rest jumped out, she just waited. Beside her, Plague did the same. After the last man left, he stood, then offered her a hand like a gentleman. Leyli allowed him to help her up and followed him to the back. When he jumped out and turned, she found herself smiling.
"Hands on my shoulders," he said, finding her waist.
Oh, she knew how to do this a little too well. She barely touched him before Plague lifted, proving he was a lot stronger than he looked. Every line of him was lean and clean, not bulky like the Lion, but her weight wasn't a strain at all. The flush on his cheeks, however, was adorable.
"Thanks," she said softly, patting his arm.
He shrugged, trying to blow it off, but his face told the truth. "Kinda nice to be the guy with the ladies for once."
"Ladies?" she teased, looking around.
He chuckled, realizing his mistake. "Well, lady. Since there's only one of you, and plenty of us wishing for a little attention, I dunno."
She turned for the door to the arena dungeon. "Bragging rights, huh?"
"More like pride." He fell in at her side.
Around them were dozens of guards. Most wore some form of studded leather armor. Some had more than that. All of them had weapons. Pikes, swords, and plenty of daggers, they were a reminder that while the gladiators were treated politely, they were still slaves. So long as they made their way to where they belonged, they could all pretend this wasn't a convenient way to herd the livestock to slaughter.
Theodian waited inside, directing his fighters to their living quarters for the two days they'd be here. Just like every arena she'd been to before, the walls were made of stone, except for the one at the front. Those were metal bars, so the guards, team owners, and any one with enough money could look at the specimens in the human zoo.
Now that she was fighting alone, Leyli got one of the smaller cells. Plague was assigned to the one beside her. The larger ones, like she'd been used to, were reserved for teams. Normally it was tandem fighters, but some skits required them, too. Not that it mattered. She wouldn't be fighting like that ever again.
She was barely inside before the guard locked her in. With nothing else to do, she headed to the back of the cell, checked the water to see if it was fresh, then returned to the thin mattress that would be her bed. Flopping across it, she stared at the ceiling, wondering if the Lion was somewhere doing the same.
Could he have forgotten her already? On the heels of that thought, she remembered the kiss. He'd known she wouldn't resist. He hadn't even hesitated. As soon as Tristan made up his mind, he'd expected that she'd meet him halfway, with just as much need. For five months, they'd pretended to be just partners, as if that was enough. But it wasn't. Not that they could be more, but that word didn't begin to describe what she felt. He wasn't just a friend. That was Plague. Tristan was her soul. He was the one thing that kept her going, and she hoped he wouldn't stop now.
"Wolf." That was her owner's voice.
Leyli sat up and turned. "Yes, sir?"
Theodian gestured for a guard to open the cell. When he moved to step inside, the man hesitated, his arm across the opening. "Sir?"
"I've been in a few of these. I think I'm ok." Pushing past the man, Theodian rolled his eyes. "We're all locked in. Driver said Vulture made a fuss?"
"I took his bench. We worked it out."
He nodded, then sat on the mattress beside her. "You go solo this afternoon. I'll be in the weapons room with a good spear and dagger. Tomorrow, you have the debtors at the end of the day. I can get you another fight if you want it, but I'd prefer you take it easy on your first match alone."
His words echoed her own thoughts. "I'm ok with that."
"Good. Now the bad news. Merino's team isn't here. They were supposed to be, but a guy in the office said he's doubling up his schedule. Twining through three circuits to make the most of the Lion's victory lap."
That meant Tristan's last fight would come before they had the money. She felt like she couldn't breathe. "Where is he?"
"I'm looking."
"He only has nine left!"
Theodian put his arm around her shoulders in a sideways hug. "I know. I'm not waiting to hear, I'm looking. We'll find him, ok?"
"If we do, can I..."
He leaned closer, the side of his head pressing against hers. "If we do, I'll slip him a dagger myself, and we'll both watch from the stands."
She bit down on the inside of her lips, holding them together, and bobbed her head. "Thank you."
"Don't worry about that today. For right now, I want you to focus on proving to your partner that he did a damned good job teaching you." He hugged her again. "I need you to take down your opponent and come back clean. No injuries to give some debtor a chance. Ok?"
"I can do that."
"Good." He stood. "After all that, I want you to help me find a few promising fighters."
That wasn't at all what she'd expected. "Sir?"
Theodian smiled and headed for the door. "You said you could teach me how to do this better. I'm calling your bluff, Wolf."
She was still staring after him with her mouth hanging open, when she heard his voice again. This time it was in the cell beside her. Just like he'd done with her, Theodian was giving Plague a pep-talk. He didn't stay long, but he hadn't with her, either. Then he moved to the cell after that. If she had to guess, he made a point of talking to each of his fighters before they went out.
Merino had never done anything like that. To Theodian, they were all people. To Merino, they were just inventory. Even though she knew what he was doing, she could feel the difference. His belief left her with a little more confidence and a lot less fear of what was to come.
And he wanted her to help him pick fighters. She wasn't sure she had the skill for that, but she was willing to try. Granted, it was a lot of pressure. All of the new fighters would be scared and confused. Since she wouldn't be able to see them in the arena, she'd only have their records to go on, but she'd been reading enough of those. The problem was that she might be deciding their fate.
Then Plague's words came back to her. They'd be dead even if she didn't do it. She wasn't the one killing these people. She was just the weapon, not the wielder. It wasn't her crime if her hands were forced. All she could do was try to give people a chance. They had to be the ones to succeed or fail, because she was not a god.
Leyli sat there, watching the men head up the hall to what might be their death. Dozens of them, and each one was mourned with a chorus of cheers. Then it was her turn. A heavily armed man unlocked her cell and leered at her chest. It was hard, but she ignore
d it, moving into the aisle like she always had.
"Don't get a lot of women in here," he said, grabbing her arm and jerking her toward the weapons room.
She pulled back. "I'd appreciate it if you don't bruise my muscles before I use them."
"Oh?" He laughed. "Honey, a little fancy armor isn't going to help. The man you're up against? They say he's unstoppable."
"None of us are unstoppable."
Another laugh, this one sounding more disgusting than the first. "I just wanna see those tits before they're on a corpse." Then he turned her into a doorway.
Just like he'd promised, Theodian was waiting. His eyes immediately dropped to the guard's hand on her arm, and he scowled. "Do not damage my property."
"Sorry, sir."
Leyli shucked off his hold and walked to her owner, accepting the spear. "Thanks."
"Welcome, Wolf. And your dagger. Find a shield that works."
Behind her, the guard pulled in a long breath. "The Wolf of Oberhame?"
"Yeah," Theodian snapped, "and if my prize fighter complains about the guards, I will make sure all of you regret it. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir," the man mumbled.
Leyli tossed her friend a smile. Step by step, he was proving his point, and it was too loud for her to keep ignoring. Shoving her arm into a metal round shield, she clutched the dagger alongside the strap. In her main hand was the spear. She hefted it, making sure the balance was right, then nodded. With a pointed look, Theodian gestured for the guard to escort her to the gate.
Someone was going to die, and Leyli wasn't going to let it be her. She didn't care what the guard thought. She might just be a woman, but she was tired of the world writing her off.
Chapter 29
The idiot was hovering behind her. Leyli was glad Tristan had warned her about harming the guards, otherwise she'd shove her spear right up the man's ass. During her time as a gladiator, she'd learned to ignore the crass jokes, and even to laugh at some. This man was different. He reminded her of her cousin with the way he leered at her body and completely ignored her as a person. It was fueling a rage deep inside her that her opponent was going to pay for.
