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I chanced a glance at the culprit, even as the monstrous man lumbered forward, smashing his fists together in a way that would easily crush my skull. Each step Lix took rattled the floor, sending me near to the floor. I glanced at Aeinya who no longer looked pleased with herself. She looked down right scared.
Batian stood as the arena exploded in cheers and screams, announcer backing into the shadows with a single shout.
“Fight!”
Lix did not hesitate, even as I stood there like a lead weight, still not one hundred percent sure that I wasn’t going to upend the contents of everything I had ever eaten all over this arena. He wasn’t very fast, not that that mattered.
“Move!” Someone screamed from behind me, the sound supercharging all those prickles of energy that were still roaming over my skin.
I shifted at the shout, rolling onto the ground and away from the fist that compacted with the air right where my head had been a second before. The crowd erupted as I found my feet, the silty floor sliding beneath my gloriously grippy boots.
This fight was going to go nowhere without a weapon. I could dodge him, sure, but it was only a matter of time before he got tired of me and squished me. Magic or no, this man was dangerous. I needed a weapon if I was going to fight.
Which I needed to do if I had any interest in seeing tomorrow.
Ripples of starlight and fire raced over my skin in a frantic rumble as I ran toward the wall of weapons, my eyes locked on the sword that would be the most familiar to me. The crowd roared as the floor vibrated, as if I needed any more warning that the monster of a man was steps behind.
“Dodge!” That same voice yelled, the low tone frantic. I did as the mysterious man said, darting over and away from the paw of a hand that was grasping at air inches above my head. I had always been small, but this might have been the first time I could use that to my advantage.
Taking one leap, I pushed myself forward, right to the rack of weapons, and the sword that I knew would be my only hope. Grabbing that sparkling hilt, I lifted it, and it promptly fell to the ground.
The metal was cold against my hand as I gripped it, the weight of it pulling my arms down as the sharp point dug into the sand. I tried to lift it, to swing it, to fight with it. It didn’t budge.
It was in that moment I realized the folly of training for years with nothing but wooden swords. I could not lift the one thing that I was reliant on to see me out of there safely.
“By the Goddess,” I mumbled, dropping the useless sword to the side and grabbing the next closest thing off the rack. A silver dagger. The thing was light, sure, but far too short. At least I could lift it, and it had a point which was thankfully sharp and gleaming as I raised it. Lix made another grab at my frame and my dagger plunged right into his palm.
The feeling of the blade moving through flesh was not something I ever wanted to experience again; the pop of flesh, the flood of warm wet blood that trickled over my hands as that coppery tang of salt and death filled my nostrils. I held back the panic and nausea as the massive man howled. He pulled back with a howl of rage, I clung to the dagger, the irony scent of blood everywhere as the red blood flowed over the blade and down my arms
“This will work,” I mumbled as I ran from the screaming Lix, my leather boots gripping and crunching the bark and sand that coated the floor.
Lix was still howling as I raced around toward his back, the sound of the crowd nothing but noise as I spun to the expanse of muscled skin and lifted my dagger, ready to sink the blade between his shoulder blades.
The point hadn’t even made contact with his flesh before that voice yelled again, and Lix whirled, his arm colliding with my gut. The force pushed whatever air I had out in a scream as I arced through the air, soaring through nothing before slamming into the ground and sliding against the floor in a plume of sandy dust.
The Boy and I had been fighting for years. I knew how to use a sword, how to do simple hand to hand combat. I did not, however, know how to take a real hit because the Boy never really hurt me, he had always stopped just before.
But now, lying on the ground, all of those muscle aches from this morning came racing back. Everything ached, everything screamed.
Lix stood, hands in the air as he celebrated his easy victory, the crowd already cheering and screaming in congratulatory glee. I tried to get up, to shift my weight at least, but nothing would move. I lay there, muscles screaming, body groaning as Lix turned, a cruel smile pointed right at me.
“Stupid little Dri. Everyone knows what you really are.” He laughed, the sound as cruel as his smile before he charged. “Worthless.”
A Dri.
The word stung almost as much as all the times Mother had used it, all the times I had heard it whispered in the halls. All the years I had fought to prove I was so much more.
All those times that had led me to this arena, it had fueled the heat that was now screaming against my skin as though it was trying to get out.
It couldn’t end like this.
“Get up!” It was that same voice, the tone frantic now. The floor continued to vibrate, the screams of the crowd joining with each beat as the floor shook.
“Get up, Elara! You have to get up!”
I screamed in a roar as I pulled myself to my feet, that prickling energy erupting over my skin in spots of heat.
He had told me to wait till the last minute, well this felt pretty close to that. I tried to focus on all of those waves of heat and power, to throw whatever magic was inside of me right at that defiant face that was clearly planning my death.
