And it makes me ache that much more.
“If all of that is true,” I say, my voice quiet so as not to hear it break, “then why did you lie about the maze? And why did you come to my room last night like Nereus told you to if not to do his bidding?”
The crowd roars again. I swear the stone beneath my feet vibrates with their excitement. It occurs to me for just a moment that this is just about the worst time we could have picked to try to have this conversation. But then again, time has never been on our side.
Haven leans against the opposite wall like all of the energy has been sapped from his bones. “I am no match for Nereus.”
I recall the scars that pepper his skin and know this to be true. Where my life was a lonely one, his was full of people. I can’t be sure which of us felt more alone.
“Once I realized I might not be able to best you as my brother wanted,” he says, “I knew that lying about it was the next best thing.”
“To protect yourself,” I guess.
He shakes his head. “To protect you.”
I take a step toward him. “What do you mean?”
“If my brother thought you had any chance of beating me, he would have killed you.” He sets his mismatched eyes on me and there is only cool seriousness. “If he thought you were anything more than a nuisance, you’d be dead right now.”
My mouth drops open. I want to argue this point, but I have a suspicion it’s true. Look at what Nereus did to Haven when their mother committed suicide. Haven has the wounded eye to prove just how ruthless Nereus can be.
Haven was protecting me?
I think back over our time together. He helped me against Ely. He hid me when Pearce was near in the Dark Wood. In the maze with the minotaur, he used an illusion to shield me. And with the shadowmen…again with Nereus…again and again.
My stomach twists at the realization.
It seems so damn obvious now.
I believed what I wanted to believe based on Haven’s reputation instead of seeing what was right in front of me.
The guilt thickens into a knot in my throat.
“Haven, I…”
Out in the arena, the crowd claps in unison. It’s a war clap.
“And now,” Hades says, “Haven Knightfall and Anastasha Hearthtender, take your places. Our final trial has begun.”
He turns away from me. “May the gods be with you, Hearthtender.”
“Wait.” I stretch my hand toward him but he’s already out of my reach, already at the arena’s entrance.
The moment he steps into the light of the amphitheater, the crowd roars.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Chapter 26
I want to turn back and start over. I want to go back to the beginning and see the truth as it is, not as I assumed it was.
I’m supposed to fight Haven.
Just a little over a week ago, I had one goal: beat Haven Knightfall at any cost.
And now…now everything has changed.
When I step into the light of the arena, I’m disoriented. It’s three times as big as the amphitheater where we conducted the Choosing Ceremony. Hades’s arena is oblong in shape. There’re box seats all around the lowest level and those seem to hold Hades’s most influential families. Above the box seats, benches have been carved into the mountainside for the lower class and staff. I squint to look above the crowd, where divine light flares behind thrones that have been carved into the stone. The entire pantheon of gods stares down at me and Haven.
No pressure or anything.
The roar of the crowd is deafening now that I’m standing out in the open. I feel naked and unprepared like I’ve just been shoved onto a theater stage for a play I have no lines for yet.
Haven is in the center of the battlefield turning a circle with the crowd, his arms raised.
He is their exalted prince whether he likes it or not. I have to give it to him, he knows how to work the role even if he doesn’t want it.
To my right, a large spectator’s box with a red velvet awning houses Hades, Monstrat, Nereus, and several other people who I think must be Knightfalls. They’re older than Haven, but they all have the sharp beauty that Haven possesses.
Hades stands from his throne and walks out to the U-shaped protrusion at the front of the box. It’s a stage for one.
The crowd goes quiet.
The silence is louder somehow.
I swallow hard and come to stand about ten feet from Haven, my heart thundering in my throat.
At my side, my hands tremble and I curl them into fists to hide the nervousness.
“Welcome, descendants, to your last trial,” Hades says, his voice echoing through the theater. “At this time in your lives, there is nothing more important than this battle. It’s a battle not only for prestige and rank, it’s a battle to remain in Olympus. As you know, the descendant who loses today will be stripped of their divine power and banished to the mortal realm.
“To be forgotten forever.”
Despite the sweat beading on my temple, I shiver at the thought.
If I win, Haven will die in the mortal realm.
Or his family will kill him first.
And who knows how Nereus will feel about me if I’m victorious. I might end up with a sword in my back.
Hades reiterates the rules.
Bloodshed isn’t an automatic win. You must incapacitate your opponent. If they die, so be it.
I steal a glance at Haven. His jaw is set, his shoulders are loose, his hands relaxed at his sides.
He’s been training for this moment his entire life. I thought he was favored to win simply because of his name, but the truth is, he’s been through hell just to get to this point.
All I’ve got to show for my life is an ability to identify flower species.
If either of us deserves to win this, it isn’t me.
“Your first weapon,” Hades says, “is the staff.” A gate cranks open in front of us and a man jogs out across the arena to us. He hands each of us a wooden staff and then leaves us alone on the field again, the gate clanking shut behind him.
The staff is heavier than the one I trained with. I give it a twirl to test its balance and find it’s just about perfect.
“On the count of three,” Hades says, “fighting will commence and will not end until we have a victor. Understood?”
“Yes, my lord!” Haven shouts.
“Yes, my lord!” I echo.
Haven jogs away from me, putting at least twenty feet between us.
I stay where I am and try to get my bearings. My heart is thumping too hard and my hands are too clammy and I want to vomit.
All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared me for this moment.
There is no preparation for staring down your opponent. Especially when that opponent is Haven.
“One,” Hades says, his voice booming across the theater.
Haven squares himself against me, knees slightly bent.
“Two.”
I try to swallow down the thickness in my throat. Is that panic settling in? I can’t breathe. Sweat is beading on my upper lip.
Haven narrows his eyes as he waits for the final call.
I’m nearly trembling with apprehension.
There’s no turning back.
“Three.”
Like a well-oiled machine, all of Haven’s muscles twine and bunch as he explodes from his position.
He is an animal, charging for the kill.
And within seconds, he’s on me.
Chapter 27
When our staffs hit, the crack echoes through the arena and the crowd celebrates the first blow and the start of the fight.
Haven doesn’t give me time to recover.
The staff slides easily through his hands as he readjusts his grip and swings out with a long arch. I leap over it. He brings it back up and lands a crushing blow to my shoulder.
I stagger back as the pain vibrates down my body with a dull ripple. This is
real. This is really happening. He’s going to crush me. He will spare me no pain.
Shit. I’m not ready for this!
Haven swings again. I duck. He dances around me and swings his staff over his head.
Come on, Ana. Get it together.
I might not be sure of the outcome of this fight, but I’m in no hurry to be pummeled by Haven.
I keep the staff light in my grip just the way Monstrat taught me and come within swinging distance of Haven. I fake left, and as he adjusts to block, I slide to the right and jab him in the ribs with the end of my staff.
He grins at me. Grins! As if this is a game!
The big jerk.
“Good one, orphan.”
We back off each other and circle.
“Do we really have to do this?” I ask.
The crowd is too loud and we’re too far away for anyone to hear.
Haven’s expression is blank. “Of course we do. There is no other way but through.”
He brings his staff around and instead of running away from it, I dance into it and block with mine. He pulls away and swings low, then high, but I dodge both.
I see an opening on his left, so I swing, but we lock staffs again and the crowd stomps their feet.
They’re already getting impatient.
“We’re just playing to their game, Haven,” I argue as he circles me again. “Why?”
He snorts. “Because they’re gods and we’re not.”
“I don’t want either of us to lose.”
He goes still, the staff hanging at his side.
The crowd boos.
“We could run away,” I say.
He laughs. “Where would we go?”
“Anywhere but here.”
I’m delirious with the idea now. It’s been haunting me the last few days and now more than ever it feels like a solution. A viable one.
“We just spent a week on the mountain,” I say quickly before I lose him again. “And we survived together. In fact…” My face flames. “It was the best week of my life.”
His Adam’s apple sinks in his throat. He licks his lips like he too is thinking of what we did and how it felt. An answering thrill lights up between my legs.
“We keep doing this,” I go on, “this dance. Together, then apart. Always warring then embracing. I don’t want to do it anymore. And I don’t want to play this game. I want us both to survive.”
I see the moment he goes from considering this to rejecting it. It’s a hardness that flows back over his face, like a mask that I’ve become all too familiar with. It’s the only way he’s learned to survive things he doesn’t think he can beat.
“We can’t do that, orphan,” he says and brings his staff back up.
“Why not?”
“Because. Because who are we to challenge a thousand years of tradition? Who are we to think the gods would let us run away from our duties? We aren’t that powerful.” He narrows his eyes, sizing me up. “And more than that, we aren’t that important. They would crush us. And if they didn’t, my family would.”
He charges me. We lock staffs, the wood crackling around the arena.
The crowd buzzes again and people leap to their feet to cheer.
We swing, block, dance around.
Haven lands a blow to my back and I drop to my knees as the pain spirals out. And as I’m down on all fours, he kicks me in the ribs.
The air rushes out of me as the blow spins me and throws me to my back. I blink up at the vaulted stone roof and beg my lungs to work again. Air trickles down my throat.
The crowd stomps in unison.
“Finish her!” Nereus yells.
I sense Haven circling me, waiting. I think technically I’m incapacitated at this point, but it’s too early to call it. Blood hasn’t been spilled yet.
I’m saved from another blow by the cranking of the gate.
Curiosity urges me to sit up. I wince as pain radiates across my shoulders.
The same man as before runs toward us, new weapons in hand. Swords this time.
Great.
He drops them twenty feet from us and runs back for cover.
Haven casually walks over to the weapons and tests both. He decides on the sword made from black steel with a hilt that shines golden in the flickering light.
Unsteadily, I rise. Haven tosses the second blade to me. I stoop to pick it up.
The steel is burnished silver with a hilt wrapped in leather. It’s too heavy for me. I’ll have a hell of a time wielding it.
I turn the blade over in hand and immediately notice the sharpness of its edge.
Every second, this gets more and more real.
My life seems closer and closer to ending.
Could I really die here on this arena floor? By the hand of Haven Knightfall?
I don’t know how far he’ll go. I don’t know how far I’ll go.
We’re back to our dance, sizing each other up, our weapons more vicious now.
The crowd boos at us. Hurry up, they say. We want blood.
Haven gets within swinging distance. He twirls the sword in hand. I can’t seem to meet his eyes. I’m too afraid of what I’ll see there. Instead I focus on the center of his torso like Monstrat taught me.
“Keep your eye on his center of mass,” he’d said. “It’ll force you to broaden your awareness and an opponent can’t feint with their torso. They can fool you with their hands and their feet, but not their body.”
Haven lashes out. I meet the swing and our blades ring out.
The crowd whoops.
We break away, then come back again, blades clanging. Each of Haven’s blows vibrates up my arm. When we meet up again, blades crossed, Haven grits his teeth. We’re close enough now that I can smell the sweat coating his face.
There’s a fleeting moment where I think this can’t be how our fate finally disentangles. I don’t want this to be the last time I’m with him.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I grit out as I strain against the sheer force of him.
He’s barely exerting himself. “You don’t have a choice, orphan.”
“This isn’t fair.” My voice falters and I try to tamp down the burning of tears in my eyes.
For a second, Haven’s expression softens. “I know, Ana. I know.” Then he lands a kick to my knee. The blow catches me off guard and my legs buckle as a new sharp pain burns up my thigh and down my calf. Haven winds up for another kick and I roll as his boot stomps the ground where I was just a second ago.
I’m up again, sword in hand.
When I meet Haven’s mismatched eyes now, there’s a new darkness there. A madness.
He’s flipped the switch. He knows what needs to be done.
He winds back his sword and charges me.
My vision is blurry with tears. Exhaustion grips me. He’s going to kill me and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Heat builds in my chest. Adrenaline surges through my veins as I brace for the blow.
I imagine how painful it’ll be to feel the blade pierce my skin. I imagine the feel of the blood running down my limbs. I imagine the brutal look in Haven’s eyes and I am undone by it.
“No,” I say as the heat spreads out down my arms. “No. This isn’t fair!”
I drop my sword and bring up my hands and power blooms out from me like a ripple.
The ground trembles.
“No!” I scream and the ripple doubles, then triples and grows and grows until it pushes past the arena.
The arena goes silent.
When I drop my arms, I find Haven frozen mid-stride just three feet from me. The crowd is locked in their frenzied cheering. Hades is unmoving in his throne. Nereus is stuck in his scowling stance beside him.
I turn a circle and catch a flicker of movement out the corner of my eye.
Moving along the perimeter of the box seats is a man.
“Hello?” I call out.
In a flash of light, he’s standing on the arena floor just twenty f
eet from me.
I gasp because I recognize the man.
Haven and I met him on Mount Ida. Except, he doesn’t look so withered or exhausted now. His hair is still gray, and his beard is white as thistle milk, but there’s a new vigor to him that wasn’t there before. Or maybe he just hid it really well.
Muscle twines across his forearms and his biceps bulge with new strength. He’s wearing a simple white tunic over black leather leggings. He carries no weapon, but I can feel the power radiating off of him. It lifts the hair on my arms and sends a shiver down my spine.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I think you know,” he says.
I frown and cant my head to get a better look at him. In an instant, the answer is obvious and terror rushes through me. “Cronus.”
He spreads his arms out and gives me a shallow bow.
He doesn’t look the way I thought he would. I’m not exactly sure what I expected the rebellious Titan to look like, but it’s not this. Maybe I expected scales and razor-sharp teeth and claws for fingernails.
Maybe I expected a monster.
This man looks not unlike Zeus. Like a king. Like a man who knows what he wants and has the power to take it.
Heart thumping in my throat, I step back. He mirrors and steps closer.
“What… do you want?” I ask, unable to form the thoughts swirling around in my head into a more specific question.
Besides, if Cronus wants to kill me, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I can do to stop him. Maybe it’d be a merciful death instead of dying at the hands of Haven.
Cronus gives me space and edges toward Hades’s box. He lifts an arm and points at his son. “I wanted to give him the world. Instead he betrayed me and sought to take it instead.”
I frown. “What? I…I know the stories. The prophecy that said you would be overthrown by your children. So you swallowed them. All of your children. Save for Zeus.”
He turns to me, looking faintly amused. “Is that the story they’re telling?”
I bite at my bottom lip, unsure if he expects me to answer.
In another flash of light, he disappears from the arena and reappears beside Hades. He pushes aside a stray lock of hair on the forehead of the God of the Underworld. In the still silence, it’s easy to see Cronus as a father doting on his son.
Vicious Champion (Games of the Gods Book 2) Page 15