by Martha Carr
They stopped at the edge of the crowd gathered around the fifteen-foot-square metal square on which General Hi’et stood. Maleshi’s silver eyes flashed in the muted gray light when she met Cheyenne’s gaze. Her lips parted in a feral grin, and she stepped off the brighter square. “Blood and glory, brothers. Rip this fell-damn thing apart!”
Two ogres stepped through the crowd from different directions, each carrying what looked like a pickaxe over their hulking shoulders. Cheyenne squinted at the tools-turned-weapons. “What are they supposed to do with those?”
A troll woman with thick bands of tattoos racing up both bare arms nodded at Cheyenne and leaned toward her. “They’re breaking the seal.”
Ember snorted. “How nice.”
“On what?” Cheyenne asked.
“Come on. We’re done pretending we’ve forgotten. For now, at least. It’s in our blood.”
“Right.” And if I keep asking, someone’s gonna notice I’m not from around here.
The ogres grunted and swung the deadly-looking pickaxes at the square of metal. The weapons hit the ground with a grating shriek and a burst of sparks. Maleshi shot a bolt of silver lightning at the metal square, and in five seconds flat, the entire panel blew away like ash on the wind to reveal a ten-foot pit in the middle of so much nothing.
A crazed, emboldened roar exploded from the crowd. Magicals jumped up and down, shoved each other forward, snarled and hissed, with the occasional word of O’gúleesh thrown in for good measure. Cheyenne removed the activator from her pocket and stuck it as covertly as she could behind her ear. After the sharp pinch of syncing tech subsided, she flicked her finger beside her thigh and managed to turn down the noise before she got a migraine.
They opened a giant pit outside the city, and there’s hardly any tech out here.
Lines of code scrolled across her vision here and there, difficult to see through so many bodies and spread out far more than she’d seen with the activator feeding her information in Hangivol.
Maleshi howled and drew a thin, glinting silver dagger from a sheath at her hip before thrusting it over her head. “We let that bitch pin us down for far too long, but we know the old ways. The Crown wouldn’t last two seconds in here, but I know every one of you bastards can hold their own in the ring that binds us all!” Grinning, she grabbed the blade with her other hand and sliced a deep cut into her palm, hissing at the pain. Then she raised her clenched fist over the ten-foot drop and let her blood patter onto the sand below for everyone to see.
The crowd erupted in wild, animalistic grunts, hisses, roars, and bellows. Cheyenne stared at Maleshi’s blood, sinking into the white sand at the bottom of the square hole. I thought we were done with sacrifices. And it sounds like a damn zoo out here.
She recognized Jara’ak’s bellowing laughter and stepped past two other jeering magicals to get to him. “What is this?”
Jara’ak brought his heavy hand down on her shoulder and gave her a quick shake in his excitement. His hand disappeared again before she had a chance to warn him about losing it. “The true heart of Ambar’ogúl, Cheyenne. The O’gúl fighting pits are officially open again, eh?”
“The fighting pits.”
“By the blood of Op’paro, I’ve been counting the days.” The orc slammed a huge fist into his opposite palm and chuckled darkly, glaring across the open pit at anyone who met his gaze and sucking in the drool pooling around his tusks.
“Jesus.” Cheyenne stepped back toward Ember and shook her head. “Fighting pits.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Apparently, they’re a real hit.”
Ember grinned. “Awesome.”
“All right, bloodletters, listen up!” With her dagger sheathed again, Maleshi ignored her bleeding hand and shrugged out of her military jacket before tossing it into the magicals gathered behind her. A troll man caught it, shook it in the air, then balled it up and dropped it at his feet. “We’re celebrating a new turn today.”
“And General Hi’et’s return to the Glinting Eye!” someone shouted from the back.
The nightstalker woman pointed in the direction of the cry. “So I’ve been told.”
Laughter cut through the snarls and roaring cheers.
“Who’s gonna kick this off with me, huh?” Maleshi spread her arms and turned in a slow circle, her silver eyes glinting as she grinned like a lunatic. “Who’s stupid enough to take me on in the first open fighting pit since K’laht the Everbright fell?”
Magicals shoved each other into volunteering, laughing and stomping on the metal floor beneath them.
Corian stepped forward, rolling up his shirtsleeves to reveal the tawny fur covering both arms. The general straightened and lowered her arms when she saw him, her eyes wide with amusement. Corian pressed a hand to his chest and dipped his head. “By your leave, General.”
“Shit.” Cheyenne stared at them, waiting for Maleshi to unleash her pent-up wrath at the other nightstalker, given the jaded history between them.
“What do you think?” Maleshi called to the crowd. “Is Corian Vedi’im a worthy sacrifice today?”
The crowd roared with laughter and approval, stomping and howling even louder now.
“Get the nightstalkers in the fucking pit!” someone shouted.
“Yes.” Maleshi held Corian’s gaze and nodded toward the gaping hole beside them. “Into the pit, vae shra’ni.”
Corian bowed and spun to head for the opposite side of the square while Maleshi did the same. He caught Cheyenne’s gaze at the last moment and winked.
Ember leaned toward the halfling, her mouth open in surprise. “What’s happening?”
“They’re gonna fight each other.” Cheyenne couldn’t help a sharp laugh of disbelief. “Like I said. Nightstalkers.”
Chapter Ten
By the time Maleshi Hi’et and Corian Vedi’im dropped into the fighting pit, the crowd of Hangivol’s lower-level citizens had quadrupled. Magicals spilled across Vedrosha, the flat, open area at least the size of a football field. Many climbed onto the surrounding rooftops for a better view. Those who could fly or levitate did so, and the others got creative with stacking crates or unleashing their tech into the air to view the fight for them.
Cheyenne scanned the crowd, her activator highlighting the different tech pieces worn and operated by the O’gúleesh of Hangivol. Most of them were basic models compared to hers. Makes sense. Elarit said she modified this one herself.
A swarm of floating metal orbs headed toward Vedrosha from the inner circles of the city. Cheyenne watched them carefully, but the other magicals either didn’t notice or weren’t that concerned. When the halfling’s activator picked up the data stream from the flying orbs, though, it made sense.
These aren’t tech-dark like the Crown’s police spheres.
With a quick flick of her finger to select the activator’s offered command, Cheyenne’s sight magnified the data streams flowing through the orbs as the blinking blue and yellow lights in the metal spheres rotated in multiple directions, capturing everything down here outside the O’gúl fighting pits.
So the fancy magicals in Upper Tech want to be part of this without leaving their shining upper-class streets. Might be as united as these guys are gonna get today.
The self-appointed drummers scattered throughout the crowd and produced deep, booming echoes from every direction around the open pit. Cheyenne stared down into the drop as Maleshi and Corian circled each other, grinning, and the gathered magicals erupted in a crazed chant punctured by snarls and bellows, feet stomping in rhythm with the drums.
The general spread her arms and extended glinting silver four-inch claws from all ten fingers. “I’m glad it’s you, vae shra’ni.”
Corian crouched and extended his own claws, his silver eyes burning into hers. “I’ve been waiting a very long time for this.”
“To get your ass kicked and finally settle everything between us? Oh, yeah. I know.”
Cheyenne shoved her
hands into her pockets to hide her clenched fists, despite the thousands of spectators who were coming undone in their excitement in much more obvious ways than clenched fists.
“Hey, you okay?” Ember leaned toward the halfling with a concerned frown.
“Not really.” Cheyenne couldn’t take her eyes off the nightstalkers circling each other in the pit. “You’ve seen a nightstalker fight before, right?”
“Briefly, yeah. I mean, I was a little busy trying not to get killed.” Ember’s chuckle stopped short when she realized how tense Cheyenne was. “From what I’ve seen, this’ll be good.”
Cheyenne gritted her teeth. “They’re gonna kill each other.”
“No way. This is all just for fun.” Ember glanced at the hissing, growling, stomping spectators and cocked her head. “I think.”
The pounding drumbeats had become such a part of the background out here in Vedrosha that when the drummers stopped all at once, it was startlingly silent.
The nightstalkers took their cue and began the fight. Silver flashes erupted from within the pit as Maleshi and Corian slipped into enhanced speed and raced toward each other, to the crowd’s rising cries of approval. Cheyenne couldn’t help herself. She slipped into drow speed to watch the nightstalkers fight so she could follow it.
Maleshi’s swiping claws came down toward Corian’s face, and he raised his own to block her attack, resulting in a shower of sparks when their natural weapons collided. Grinning, the general disengaged and sent a swift kick with the sole of her boot into Corian’s chest. He flew backward across the pit and out of enhanced speed, his back slamming against the metal wall as sprays of sand burst on either side of him and hung suspended in the air. Then Maleshi dropped into regular speed, and Cheyenne was the only one watching a fight that hadn’t yet continued.
This is ridiculous.
She fell into regular time again, and the roar of the crowd crashed back in. Corian finished thudding against the far wall as the sand fell back to the bottom of the pit and the flash of silver nightstalker light faded. He dropped into a crouch, the tips of his blade-like claws pressing gently into the sand as he stared up at Maleshi and chuckled.
The general spread her arms and gazed at the crowd with battle fire raging behind her silver eyes. The O’gúleesh magicals roared with primal excitement. Two separate fights broke out in the crowd away from the pit, but they were quickly dispelled so the spectators could focus their attention on the nightstalkers in the pit.
“Blade of the Unseen Eye! Blade of the Unseen Eye!” The chant grew louder and Maleshi snarled in appreciation, soaking it all in.
Corian sped toward her again in a brilliant silver flash, preceded by a burst of lightning crackling across the sand. In that split second, Cheyenne forced herself not to slip into drow speed again. I can’t keep up with this anyway.
The nightstalkers’ streaks converged, then Maleshi stopped on the other side of Corian, one arm wrapped around his middle with her claws pressed against his belly, the other hand holding the tips of her deadly blades against his exposed throat. She hissed in his ear and pushed him away.
The crowd went wild.
Corian spun and leaped toward her again, sending blinding streaks of silver lightning at her as he charged. Maleshi deflected each attack with a swipe of her claws, her eyes widening as a crazed laugh escaped her open-mouthed grin. Then Corian was on her again, slashing and swiping too quickly to follow without going into enhanced speed. The general blocked every attack, sparks flying up second after second as the air filled with the shriek and clang of nightstalker claws meeting, scraping against each other, and freeing themselves.
He ducked her next swing, blocked a second with his forearm, then brought his left hand slicing down toward her face and leaped away.
A lock of black hair separated from those hanging over her shoulders and drifted to the ground, scattering into individual hairs across the sand. Maleshi looked down at the hair he’d sliced from her head and grinned. “That’s a first.”
“First time for everything, ma gairín.” Corian crouched again in a ready stance and jerked his chin at her.
With a dark chuckle, Maleshi advanced again, and this time, she didn’t hold back.
The general’s silver streaks of light flashed in strobing brilliance as she slipped in and out of enhanced speed too quickly for Corian to follow. Five seconds later, he was meeting her nightstalker speed as nothing more than a defensive tactic, but General Hi’et was too quick. Unbelievably quick.
She darted around him again and again, pausing in regular time for half a second to give the spectators the show they wanted. A spray of blood erupted from Corian’s back, and he staggered forward, roaring. The next second, Maleshi’s dark fist cracked against the side of his face. Corian toppled sideways, and she reappeared on his right to slash his thigh and spray more blood across the sand before shoving him in the opposite direction.
Corian limped in a circle, blinking in and out of his brilliant silver speed to catch her. But he couldn’t.
Over and over again, Maleshi darted around her opponent, claws glinting in the muted light one second, more blood spraying from a new wound somewhere else on Corian’s body the next.
She is gonna kill him.
Cheyenne found L’zar standing at the edge of the pit, arms folded and a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched General Hi’et demolish his Nós Aní in the ring.
He’s loving this. Of course he is. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone else.
The halfling looked urgently back down into the pit in time to see Corian drop to his knees in the sand, snarling, his chest heaving as he raised his arm to feebly block Maleshi’s next downward swing. She darted in a bright flash to his other side and sliced her claws across his ribs. Corian roared and lurched away, but Maleshi appeared in front of him again in the blink of an eye, claws retracted, and sent a vicious uppercut into the underside of Corian’s chin. His eyes rolled back as he skidded on his back across the sand.
The crowd cheered and bellowed their approval, stomping and screaming the general’s name. Maleshi ignored them all and tossed her hair out of her eyes, laughing through panting breaths as she stalked toward a prone Corian on the pit floor.
No way. Cheyenne’s jaw ached from how hard she’d clenched it. No way he is going to keep going after that.
The general set one foot on either side of Corian’s body, then dropped to her knees and straddled his chest. He coughed through a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. Maleshi’s claws extended again, and she pressed their tips into the side of his neck at the jugular. “Do you yield, vae shra’ni?”
Corian let out a gurgling laugh that turned into a cough. He lifted one hand to her thigh beside his chest and gave it a little squeeze before picking his head up off the sand as far as he could. “Are you kidding? Finish it.”
His head thumped back into the sand with another wet, dangerously choking laugh. Maleshi’s lips twitched as she grinned down at him with battle-crazed eyes.
“Maleshi!” Cheyenne shouted.
Whether the general heard the cry above the roar of the spectators didn’t matter. Maleshi drew her claws across Corian’s throat, the crowd lost it, and Cheyenne roared in fury and horror.
Instantly, General Hi’et leaped to her feet as Corian’s blood spilled into the sand and went quickly to the closest wall of the pit. She pounded it with her fist, and a tall drawer slid out of the wall toward her. From it, she withdrew a thick torch of black metal that flared to life with green fire the second it left the drawer. Laughing, Maleshi thrust the torch in the air and screamed, “The O’gúl deathflame, brothers and sisters. For blood and glory!”
Then she swiped the eerily flickering flames of green and black across Corian’s body and stepped back. His body erupted in flames, consuming him until the center of the pit was filled with green and black, turning the fallen nightstalker into a pillar of flame shooting four feet above the walls of the pit.
“What the fuck!” Cheyenne pushed magicals aside as she raced toward L’zar. “How can you just stand there? Do something!”
L’zar slowly removed his gaze from the flames, shot her a brief glance, and lifted a hand for her to wait.
“Fuck you.” Cheyenne spun toward the edge of the pit, meaning to leap down into it.
Her father’s cold, slender fingers clamped around her wrist and jerked her back.
“Let go of me!”
“Just wait.” L’zar’s golden eyes were filled with a calm but fierce warning. “Watch, Cheyenne. This is important for you to see.”
“To watch him die?” She jerked her wrist from his grasp and turned to face the blazing pit again. L’zar’s hand settled on her shoulder instead, maybe as a warning, maybe to hold her in place. Cheyenne didn’t try to shrug it off this time because she saw movement in the flames.
The green and black fire spewed higher into the air, illuminating the faces around the pit with an eerie green glow. A warm wave of heat and magical energy passed through the crowd and funneled deep underground, spreading around everyone and beyond the city limits. The spectators chanted and stomped their feet in rhythm again, tossing their heads back to howl at the sky as they watched the green blaze intently.
The deathflame shrank, flickering slowly until it died and winked out. In its place stood Corian, palms turned outward and slightly raised beside his thighs, his eyes closed. A hush fell over the crowd when they saw him standing unscathed in the center of the pit.
Then the nightstalker’s eyes flew open and settled on Maleshi. “Blood and glory.”
She threw her head back and laughed before jumping up the wall out onto the flat ground, surrounded by cheering O’gúleesh. Then she spun and reached back down to help Corian up and out. Hands clapped his shoulders and back as the nightstalkers clasped forearms and grinned at each other.
