by K. A. Linde
She bit her lip, desperately wanting to bridge, but knowing she couldn’t. He truly believed he was cursed. And she didn’t want to push him.
So, she swallowed and stepped back. Stepped away from him instead of toward him. Even though her chest ached and her heart was in her throat and she wanted to do anything but walk away from him.
He stood as if on a precipice. That same haunted look in his eyes from the gazebo. The pain of seeing her step back from him. Then, with a resolute expression, he broke eye contact and muttered, “Good night.”
“Night,” she said, swallowing back her heartbreak.
All she wanted to do was rush back and throw her arms around him. But that couldn’t happen. Not now. Maybe not ever..
Kerrigan closed her eyes to fend off the pain and then headed down the hallway. She could traverse the mountain in her sleep. Despite wanting to sleepwalk through her life at the moment, she had to remain alert in case anyone saw her wandering. She had changed out of her party dress before sneaking back in, but it still might raise an alarm that she was out of bed at this hour.
She reached her room without running into anyone but paused at the door when she realized that it was ajar. Her heart rate kicked up as adrenaline coursed through her. Someone was in her room.
She could sense the person now that she was paying attention and not worrying about Fordham’s rejection or Helly finding her. Who the hell was in her room? And what did they want?
A minute was all she had to make her decision. She decided against using fire. It would blind both of them when it came down to it. Her eyes were adjusted enough to the dark. She silently pressed the door open.
Her stomach flipped as a figure stood at her dresser. She had a long mane of ash-blonde hair. Suddenly, Kerrigan felt like she was in the midst of her vision. The girl with the ash hair. Who was she? What was she doing here?
A sense of foreboding hung over the moment. Something was wrong. Was this person here to finish what Basem had started? Fear crept through her, and she tried to lash it down into place, but after everything that had happened tonight, she couldn’t stop it. She pulled up her magic quick, prepared to strike the assassin in her bedroom. She wouldn’t make the mistake she had made the last time in Ellerby’s home. She had trained that out of her. Now, she would attack first and ask questions later.
She whipped out with a tendril of air, grasping both of the girl’s wrists and twisting them tight together behind her back.
“Who are you?” Kerrigan demanded, stepping farther into the room and turning the girl around to face her.
“Kerrigan?” Valia asked in shock.
Kerrigan dropped her magic at once. A gasp of relief escaped her. It wasn’t an assassin or one of Basem’s men or anything. It was… it was just Valia.
“Valia!” Kerrigan gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“Gods, Kerrigan, you attacked me!”
“You’re in my room at night!”
Kerrigan ignited a flame and set it into the lantern by her bed, illuminating the small, mostly empty space. Valia rubbed her bare wrists. Kerrigan could see a line of red around them.
“I’m sorry,” Kerrigan said with a sigh, sinking into her bed. “I just… I’m jumpy right now.”
“I noticed that,” Valia said indignantly.
“But, really… what are you doing here?”
“Helly was looking for you.”
“Scales.”
“Yeah. I covered for you and told her that you were training late. But I knew you had been sneaking out, and if she found out, the punishment would be severe. So, I waited to see if I’d have to cover for you again.”
Kerrigan frowned. “How did you know I was sneaking out?”
“Because you’re really not that good at it,” Valia said with a small laugh. “But that’s coming from someone who is used to being alone all the time and likes finding ways to avoid notice.”
“Well, thanks for covering for me. Do you know what she wanted?”
Valia shook her head. “Not sure. She seemed sad.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, I guess.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll need it.”
Valia headed to the door, and then right before she walked through, she turned back around and looked at Kerrigan. “Where were you tonight anyway?”
Kerrigan laughed, trying for levity. “A party.”
“With Fordham?”
She nodded. “You’re only young once, right?”
“Right,” Valia said softly. “Night.”
Kerrigan watched her go with a pang in her heart. How had she ever thought Valia was a threat in her bedroom? It was odd that she’d been in here at all, but nothing was out of place.
She had judged Valia. After this tournament, she was going to make a more concerted effort to befriend the girl. She didn’t like that Valia had been left alone all this time.
Kerrigan lay down in her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She put out the light with a snap of her fingers and waited for sleep to take her. After everything that had happened that night and the exhaustion settling into her bones, she thought it would come easy. But it was nearly dawn before sleep finally came, and where sleep was, nightmares followed.
44
The Big Fight
“You can do this,” Clover said in her best pep-talk voice.
Kerrigan sat with her head in her hands in the locker room the night of the big fight. Her stomach was in knots. Everything was riding on this moment. Her final confrontation with Basem Nix. The same place where this had all started.
“I know I can,” Kerrigan said weakly.
“Ker, come on. You need more energy than that.”
She did. She really did.
But sleep had eluded her all week. She didn’t know if it was fear of the impending fight, which she’d never had before, or growing anxiety toward the end of the tournament, or how much exactly depended on getting this right.
“It’s just so much more than a fight.”
“You can’t think of anything but what you’re about to do out there, Red. Play your part. Beat Basem. Let the rest of the pieces fall into place.”
“You’re right.”
And she was. She’d worried about what Helly wanted to say after Valia was in her rooms, but she had just wanted to apologize for her reaction. She had been more worried than mad, and it had come out poorly. They parted on good terms. Though… her punishment hadn’t been lessened. Not that Helly knew she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Valia had shown her a new exit that Kerrigan hadn’t even known about. It made all of this much easier.
“Damn straight I’m right. You’re going to win this.”
Kerrigan nodded as a man strode in and gestured for her to follow him.
“You’re about to be announced. Come with me.”
She got to her feet, rolling her shoulders and bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. She repeated everything Fordham had been training into her the last couple of weeks. She’d prepared for this. All or nothing.
With an eruption of applause, the announcer stepped into the Dragon Ring. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen and all manner of bottom-feeding scum in the Wastes. We are here for a momentous night of fighting. Our main event is a winner-take-all, no-rules, no-holds-barred fight to the death!”
The crowd roared at those words. What every spectator wanted to hear.
“Up first, the scrappy and daring fighter, RED!”
Kerrigan took a deep breath, and then she jumped into the ring, holding her hands above her head. The crowd cheered for her.
“Her competitor, the hulking and dominating fighter, NIX!”
Basem slunk into the ring, holding his own fists high. He was shirtless, revealing his massive bulk. He looked every inch the bruiser she had first named him as. He had a pouch at both of his sides that dangled from his shorts. The crowd was thunderous for the enormous tree trunk of a man.
“You ready for this, leatha?” Basem snarled at her.
A few boos came from the crowd at the slur, but just as many people cheered for the horrible word.
“Oh, I’m ready,” Kerrigan said.
She ripped out the headband that obscured her too-small ears, the delicate points that marked her as half-Fae. The exact thing that she had tried to hide for so long. But she wasn’t just here to fight Basem Nix. She was here to fight anyone who had ever dared to call her that horrible word. For anyone who had ever dared to look down on her for only being half-Fae. She was doing it for all the half-Fae out there who had ever faced down a bruiser.
She tossed the headband out of the ring and deliberately tucked her red hair behind her ears. “Let’s do this.”
A chorus screamed at the revelation. A half-Fae fighting a full-blooded Fae in the Dragon Ring wasn’t unheard of, but they were usually smaller fights. Nothing this big. Definitely nothing to the death. Dozan was offering a rare treat indeed. Likely as many people in the audience wanted to see her blood spill as those who wanted to see her take down someone like Basem. Bets rained down on the awaiting spectacle.
Kerrigan tuned it all out. Just centered herself under the lanterns that illuminated the space. She breathed in through her nose and carefully out through her mouth. Discipline. This was what she had been training for. And Basem Nix had no idea.
The announcer was calling out some other nonsense and then ceded the floor to Dozan. Kerrigan turned her face up. She had been waiting for this. Her vision had shown her in the Dragon Ring with Dozan standing over her, just as he was now. She had tried to walk away from it, but of course, she’d still ended up here.
Both opponents waited for his signal, tensed and ready.
Then Dozan called out, “Begin!”
Basem grinned and launched toward her. She brought up everything she knew about him from their first fight. Affinity for earth. Small drop of water magic. Used his strength to overpower his enemies. Trained with an air Fae. Ambushes over one-on-one combat.
“Know your enemy, and if you don’t know your enemy, anticipate their mistakes.”
He stomped his foot, and Kerrigan reflexively stepped to the side. The chunk of rock went flying wide, right where she had been standing. The last time she’d fought, he had pummeled her with rock that she hadn’t been able to anticipate. She’d won because she’d gotten mad and unleashed that anger. Not for any real skill. She had been as much brute strength as he was.
Basem continued to volley rocks at her as she nimbly evaded them. “Come out. Come out, girl,” he snarled. “You can’t run forever.”
Truly, she could. She could run until he ran out of magic or collapsed from the effort. But she had no plan to.
The next rock he lobbed at her, she circled around it, using its momentum to slingshot it back to Basem. A sickening crunch erupted throughout the ring as it collided with Basem’s chest. He stumbled back one step, and his eyes burned a deep dark brown and went wide with anger.
“I didn’t plan to run forever,” she taunted right back.
Basem expected her to retaliate with air. That had been her main element at the last fight, and so she gave him exactly what he’d expected. She stepped forward and sliced her hand down, the wind listening to her every move as it cut through his chest. He avoided the next one and the next before kicking at the earth under his feet. It ricocheted throughout the arena, and the rock under her own feet erupted upward. She was propelled forward. But instead of being thrown off-balance with the force, she used it to vault upward, do a somersault midair, and then come back at him with an arc of flames.
Basem barely moved enough to bring up a shield of water to dispel the flames into steam. Kerrigan landed as gracefully as a cat on her feet on the other side of the ring.
“New tricks,” Basem growled as he forced the water to do his bidding.
Kerrigan dispelled it with ease, taking the water he’d thrown at her and bringing it into her magic. He didn’t have enough water magic to overpower her. His best bet was still earth.
“Same tricks,” she said back as she tossed the water aside. It wasn’t her best element either. “I thought this was going to be a fight.”
Basem reacted as she’d expected him to—with a vengeance. He went entirely on the offensive, slinging rocks and then trying to trap her with the earth at her feet. She evaded the rocks and used the chunk of rock he had tried to cage her with to propel it back toward his face. He barely got out of the way in time.
She watched his sloppy footwork and increasing heavy breathing. He was tiring and fast. No wonder he didn’t do his own dirty work. She had never been more thankful for all those runs with Fordham.
Kerrigan matched him pace for pace, using air to dispel his attacks and floating to avoid his wrath. She knew she was going to have to play up the offensive to get the crowd on her side, but this fight was about so much more than that. And she needed to keep it going for longer than she’d like. She would prefer just pummeling him and seeing this end.
She avoided another large chunk of rock and landed in a crouch. She narrowed her eyes, feeling the adrenaline pump through her as she waited to make her move.
“You are beneath me,” Basem said, kicking up a cloud of dust. “You will always be beneath me.” He threw the dust up into her eyes. “You don’t deserve to live.”
Luckily, she saw his move for what it was and pulled up some water to protect herself before it happened. But she played it up and stumbled backward, scrubbing at her clean eyes. The part was as important as reality. She could warp what Basem saw, use it to her advantage.
“Learn to do the opposite of what your opponent expects.”
Basem laughed, and she sensed him approach her. She held her hands up as if in surrender, to stop him from hurting her. Her eyes flipped up to Clover’s, who was waiting in the wings. She nodded her head once. Kerrigan smiled. When Basem next brought a rock down to end her, she grabbed his fist in her hand, turned it in place, and catapulted him over her shoulder. She opened her eyes enough to watch him collapse back into the rock.
And Fordham’s final lesson: “Kill or be killed.”
“You could never beat me,” Kerrigan said, whipping the dirt into a frenzy. “Never. You are weak. You used ambushes and an assassin to try to kill me, and still, you’ve failed. You will always fail.”
She turned her finger, picking Basem off the ground and into the whirling tornado she had created out of the air and dirt. She added fire to it, and he screamed. She flung her hand out, and Basem collided with the wall on the other side of the ring. Her confidence lifted, she advanced, drawing from her reserves, and tried to get up the nerve to end this. She had never killed anyone, not on purpose, but Fordham was right. She had let Basem live once before, and all it’d brought was retaliation. The last thing she wanted was to have a life on her conscience, but she refused to continue to play this game.
Basem heaved on the ground. A slash of fire had burned across his cheek. He met her glare with his own fury. And then something shifted, as if it moved from anger to satisfaction. Like he had her exactly where he wanted her.
“Big mistake, leatha,” he snarled.
His hand went to the pouch on his hip and removed the amber orb he’d held the night of the kidnapping.
Kerrigan had no idea what that thing did, but it was a move she hadn’t anticipated. She didn’t know what it was or what it could do. She couldn’t possibly be ready for this.
“Need a magical artifact to win?” she asked. “Pathetic.”
“Anything goes,” he reminded her.
Without warning, he hurled the small rock at her feet. She jumped back, expecting it to shatter as it had that first night they’d fought, but it just rolled harmlessly toward her, knocking into her boot. The crowd was silent with anticipation. Kerrigan took another step away from the thing that might as well have been a bomb.
Her eyes met Basem’s for a second, and he smiled. “Carthai.
”
The world exploded. Kerrigan dropped to her knees, and her hands went to her head. There was ringing in her ears that she couldn’t explain. Her vision was blurry, and she was seeing double. But all around her, the rest of the world looked… normal?
It hadn’t been an actual bomb. Not what she had thought at all. But somehow, it was still making her bleed from her ears. She could hardly see anything in front of her, and the ringing… the ringing wouldn’t stop.
She struggled to get back to her feet, but then there was a boot at her shoulder, kicking her over. She lay on her back and tasted the rusty blood in her mouth. Her eyes watered as she stared up at Basem’s giant form. He had a knife in his hand as he leaned his knee into her chest. She gasped as the pressure crushed her ribs and pinned her helplessly to the ground.
The knife came to her throat. He bent down until he was speaking into one of her ruined ears, “I own magic in this city. You never stood a chance.”
The edge of the blade cut into her neck. Pain seared through her, bringing her to the edge of consciousness. But she couldn’t lose here. She couldn’t let her life end with him slitting her throat in the Wastes. Fordham had taught her about pain. He had told her how to survive through pain. Pain made her stronger.
“You think you’re so strong?” she croaked, feeling the knife bite into her. She ignored it and forced herself to laugh.
“What’s so funny, Red?”
“No matter what happens here, you’ve already… lost,” she got out.
“Doesn’t look like that to me.”
She grinned, going for madness. “Oh, but I’m just the distraction.”
Basem’s eyes widened.
“You never wondered why my friends didn’t come to the fight? Or why I danced around the ring until you were nearly exhausted? I was here to keep you and your goons in one place. Your house has already been… raided.” Her eyes were triumphant as she told him, “Ever is gone.”
45
The Rescue