by Adam Witcher
After about five rounds, the announcer came back with a mischievous look on his face.
“Folks, we have a special group of new monsters for Zantho to fight!” He paced around the ring for dramatic effect. “Now I know that you’ve all heard of lions. A classic ferocious beast, no doubt. And a crocodile, right? Vicious reptiles, of course. But how boring would our show be if all we did was bring out some lions and crocodiles. And Zantho would beat them so easily. But what if we took all the beastliest things about both creatures and made something new. Everyone! Give it up for… the crocodions!”
Even in the loud stadium, I could hear myself and Lily gasp. Doors lifted around the arena and the beasts ran out. They had the cold eyes and long rows of teeth of a crocodile with the muscular body of a lion. In place of fur, though, they had what looked to be fuzzy orange scales. Five of them ran around with incredible speed, gnashing their teeth together and making the crowd crazier.
“Lily,” I said, “this is what I was talking about! I told you I saw that weird hybrid thing in the alley the other night.”
“Geez,” she said. “Maybe you weren’t just drunk.”
The match began, and a krokum infused Zantho didn’t bother with the ring. He started by jumping out and crashing two of the creature’s flat heads together. Another pounced and wrapped his wide jaws around Zantho’s leg. A jet of blood spurted out from it. Zantho didn’t seem to care. He took the thing’s head and pulled the top and bottom apart until there was a loud snap and it fell to the ground in a heap.
The last two crocodions circled him carefully. Zantho didn’t wait for them to strike. He leaped over one of them and grabbed it by the tail. Without hesitation, he began to swing it in circles. It screeched horribly. When it looked like the monster’s body was going to break off, Zantho swung it into the last crocodion’s face. The two spiraled outward together into a limp pile. The crowd gasped and cried with delight.
When the night was winding down, the announcer came back out.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “We have one last surprise for you tonight. Zantho has a final challenger. Believe it or not, a human has challenged him to single combat. An amateur boxer wants to take our champion’s title from him tonight. Do you think he can do it?”
“No way!” the crowd jeered.
“Put your hands together, folks, for Trogir!”
Another man, just as thick and wide as Zantho, stepped out onto the arena from the opening under the private box. He was bald with dark skin, and there was fire in his eyes.
“Amateurs can challenge Zantho?” I thought aloud.
“I guess,” Lily said, “if they’re dumb enough to.”
Zantho was given another dose, and the fight began. It seemed that Trogir would have to battle in an unaltered state of mind. The newcomer put up a hell of a fight. He managed to land some solid punches on Zantho, but he simply couldn’t match Zantho’s endurance. The fight lasted five minutes.
After that, the event was over. The crowd rose and made for the exits. Lily motioned to leave, but I touched her shoulder and said, “hang on a minute.”
I watched the private box. In unison, the group rose to their feet. The man in the lab coat led them through a staircase that opened in the back of the box. For just a moment, I caught a glimpse of them through the opening where Trogir had come in. It seemed that the two areas were connected. I pointed it out to Lily.
“So?” she asked.
“Just a thought,” I said.
We left for Camilla’s place.
Chapter Sixteen
Camilla stared at me open-mouthed. “You want to challenge Zantho? Are you insane? Do you want to die?”
We sat at the kitchen table again, munching on toasted oats and drinking bluefruit juice the next morning.
“If that was your takeaway from the fight last night,” Lily said, “then we interpreted things a little differently.”
“Hear me out, okay.” I said over a mouthful of oats. “I’m not really interested in fighting the guy, but that’s the only way I’m going to gain access to the tunnel that connects The Colosseum to that private box to wherever the hell else. That guy in the white coat, he’s who we’re looking for. I could feel it just from looking at him. If I could find a way to follow him after the fight, he’d probably lead me straight to wherever he’s orchestrating this all from. We can figure out how to gain access to the tower.”
“There’s just one obvious flaw in your plan, Rahm,” Camilla said, rolling her eyes. “How can you expect to sneak your way through underground tunnels when you’re lying dead on the Colosseum floor?”
She had a good point. I took a sip of juice and thought about it.
“I don’t necessarily have to beat him. I just have to not get beaten by him”
“Is there some sort of third option we aren’t considering?” Lily asked. “Maybe you can bring him a bouquet of flowers and you can cry and hug. He seemed like such a sensitive guy, after all.” She and Camilla were ganging up against me. It was cute and kind of tantalizing, but annoying at the same time.
“I’ll figure something out,” I said. “I’ve got all day.”
“Well,” Camilla said, “as much as I would love to help you get murdered by my ex-lover, I unfortunately can’t help you today. I’ve got to work. There’s a shipment of raw jewels coming in. A friend of mine needs help polishing and cutting them all. The boxing business is over for me, but I still have a roof to keep over my head.”
“Fair enough.” I shrugged.
“We could use another set of hands, Lily,” Camilla said, eyeing her over her mug. “There’s good coin in it for you, too, if you want to help.”
She pondered this for a moment.
“I am pretty broke,” she admitted. “There is no chance I’m gonna ask my family for money. Think you can figure it out on your own, Rahm? I’m not sure I want a part of your death wish, anyway.”
“Fine,” I said flatly. “I could use a break from you two, anyway,” I lied. I was spoiled, having spent every moment since leaving Fellrock with at least one beautiful woman beside me. I might have even been a little jealous at how close they were becoming.
After breakfast, we went our separate ways. Once they were gone, and I was alone in the bustling streets of Gragos, the reality of what I was planning hit me. I’d taken down plenty of orcs and hobgoblins, even a troll in the last few days, but this felt different. The raw, focused power and rage that emanated from Zantho during the fight was something I hadn’t encountered before. And I’d have to do it without my weapons.
Compared to the previous day, the streets were calm. I walked aimlessly for a while. I ignored the touts and beggars that assailed me, but I didn’t mind the distractions they provided. On a quiet street, I sat on a curb and tried to think. There’d be no zombie horses to help me, no resurrected woodland critters, no vengeful grapevines. Could I resurrect monsters? Despite all of those that I’d slain thus far, I hadn’t tried it. It didn’t seem all that druid-like, but my powers were indeed growing.
Then I noticed a sign that read Library with an arrow guiding me down another quiet street. The letters were so faded that I very nearly missed it. My curiosity was piqued. Fellrock was too small for a library. I’d only ever read from the books my grandparents amassed on their bookshelf, but I devoured them all. Most of them were just stories, but I learned a lot from a few. Without a better lead, I headed toward it.
Gragos’ library was in a better state than much of the rest of the city. There were only a few loose bricks on its modest exterior and subtle layer of grime in the grout. From the outside, it did seem largely forgotten, perhaps respectfully ignored. The riffraff that roamed the city streets day and night were, for the most part, absent.
I gasped when I entered the building. The inside was the cleanest and most beautiful place I had seen since coming to Gragos. It was not huge, perhaps only a little bigger than Zantho’s house. Graceful wooden shelves housed many hundreds,
if not thousands of books from the ground to the high ceilings. Padded chairs were scattered about, some occupied by readers lost in thought. The only librarian was a very old woman who sat behind a small desk and smiled at me as I entered. I felt like I was in an entirely new city. How could they keep such a place from succumbing to the degradation that plagued the rest of Gragos?
I walked up and down the aisles and ogled the selection. I passed several sections that caught my eye: Beastiaries, Spellcraft, Tales of Olde. Finally, I spotted one that made my heart race: History of Gragos. I remembered a thought that I had last night, that The Colosseum looked like one of the oldest buildings in the city. I searched until I found what I was looking for. The Grand Colosseum of Gragos. I pulled it off the shelf and settled into a chair to read. It was a grand book with a red leather-bound cover. It appeared to not have been touched in some time. I blew some dust off the cover and opened it up. The early chapters dealt with the building of The Colosseum nearly two thousand years ago. I skipped through that part, though my gaze lingered on images of its construction.
Then I turned the page to find a new section: The Early Battles. It was accompanied by an image of a group of armored men battling a three-headed monster with vicious fangs. The arena looked much the same, just less weathered by time. The book told me that long before it housed boxing and other sports, it existed as a gladiator arena where fierce men slayed monsters before an adoring crowd. I laughed at the irony. It seemed that the Grand Colosseum was experiencing a return to form. The book relayed many epic battles and chronicled its progression through the ages. In the last thousand years, as humans entered an enlightened age, it evolved toward fair sports and combat. Everything earlier, though, was barbaric. I marveled at page after page of drawings, all sorts of creatures, some that I have seen with my own eyes, others I have heard about from distant lands. There were others still that I had either never heard of or assumed were the things of myths and legends.
It didn’t take long for me to realize what I needed to do. After I had my fill of the images, I left, my heart pumping with anticipation.
I found a gym not far from Camilla’s house. It was tucked behind a blacksmith’s workshop on one of the main streets. Through the windows, I saw a group of four men taking turns sparring. There were two rings and four punching bags surrounding them. I walked in and asked if I could join in. The men were skeptical at first, but once I threw a few punches at one of the bags, they let me. For three hours, I trained with these men, concentrating hard on agility. I tried to watch their fists and react quickly. I practiced rolling out of the way and diving, which made some of the men laugh. It didn’t bother me. I knew that my necrodruid powers alone weren’t going to save me in the Colosseum.
Once I felt confident and focused, I made my way back toward the Colosseum. It looked somewhat smaller and less imposing without the crowds or the night sky above it. I walked over to where I had bought my ticket the night before. A bored looking young man sat in a small chair with his feet propped up on a brick.
“Excuse me,” I said, surprising him. “I’d like to challenge Zantho tonight.”
He stared at me like I might as well have been speaking goblin.
“You want to fight Zantho?” he scoffed. I nodded.
“Let me go get my supervisor.” He sauntered off, then returned with an older bald man.
“You?” he asked, sizing me up. “You want to challenge him?”
“Yes,” I said, annoyed at his understandable skepticism. “Tonight.”
He whistled at the ground. “Man, I don’t know whether to laugh at you or cry for you. What are you in this for? You broke? Because honestly this doesn’t pay that well. People do it more for the honor and glory and all that. Or they have a death wish. Is that it? You got a death wish? Martyr complex?”
“No death wish here,” I said. “I think I can beat him.”
“You looked in a mirror lately?”
“Look, I know I’m not going to convince you that this is a good idea. Just let me do it, okay?”
“Well…” He looked me up and down for a minute. “We are a little short on acts tonight. You wanna get yourself killed, be my guest. Get here half an hour before sundown.”
I nodded and started to walk away.
“And hey, one last thing,” he called out.
“Yeah?”
“Make it a good rest of your afternoon. Eat a nice steak. Kiss your mother on the cheek. Confess your sins, all that.”
“Will do.” I smiled.
Chapter Seventeen
The next few hours passed in a daze. I wandered around the city aimlessly, pondering if I’d lost my mind. I stopped by an obscure clothing shop and picked up a makeshift costume with a few of my coins. Obviously, I couldn’t risk being recognized by Neptos or anyone else involved in the estate incident. I sifted through bins of flamboyant trousers and ruffled shirts before I found a disguise that I liked. It was a simple set of solid blue clothes: a belted tunic, pants, and the icing on the cake, a cape and mask. The tunic was emblazoned with two gold letters: “BB.” With a laugh, I named myself The Blue Bastard. It was a good thing I didn’t really need anyone to take me seriously. I put my street clothes into my pack and left the shop dressed as my new alter ego.
Soon enough, the sun hung low in the sky, and the citizens gathered near the stadium. Honestly, I was relieved. There was no more time to worry. I was also feeling a bit silly pacing around town dressed as The Blue Bastard.
I found the bald man near a blocked entrance. He seemed sad to see me, but he led me inside anyway. He wasn’t impressed by my new persona. We walked through the hallways that ran under the stands until we found a small room that only contained a cot, a small wooden desk, and a mirror.
“I’ll come and get you when you’re up,” he said, shutting the door.
From there I listened to the dull roar of the audience for the next hour and a half, wondering what fearsome monsters Zantho was beating the hell out of for the city’s amusement. Time moved slowly, and there was little for me to do other than pace the room. Finally, the door opened, and the man led me out.
“Last chance to back out,” he said as we neared the entrance to the arena. The crowd was chanting something. I didn’t reply. “You’re an idiot, but good luck.” He shook his head and walked away.
“Last but not least!” I heard the booming voice of the announcer. Through the opening I watched him parade around the ring. Zantho must have been somewhere along the edge of the crowd. “We have another challenger! That’s right folks, two nights in a row some fool has the balls to take on the greatest champion this city has ever seen!”
The bald man ushered me out. My legs felt numb as I strode out toward the ring. The announcer gave an exaggerated laugh, and then it seemed the entire stadium was laughing with him.
“What do you think, folks?” He threw his hands up. “Can this feeble blue man take on the mighty Zantho?”
“No!” The audience shouted. I stepped into the ring.
“Well, if this delusional guy is brave enough to come out and die for us tonight, let’s at least make him feel welcome. Let’s give a round of applause for…” He stopped and then whispered, “What’s your name?” I told him.
“Seriously?”
I nodded.
“Give it up for… The Blue Bastard, folks! You know he’s about to give it up for you.” More laughter and applause. “A fitting name, folks. Blue is the only word that describes this bastard more than dumb.”
For the second time, I stared into the madman’s eyes. This time, though, he was staring right back into mine. He was enraged, not just from the krokum, but from something else, too. He looked offended, like I insulted him just by thinking I stood a chance. He spread his lips into a twisted grin. I imagined him thinking of all the horrific things he was going to do to me. I shivered a little. He stomped a foot in anticipation.
“3… 2… 1… Fight!”
Time seemed to slow. Z
antho lunged toward me, and it felt like all the roaring sounds around me were sucked into a vortex. It was just me and the man who wanted to tear me to shreds. Zantho was barefoot and shirtless. Tufts of chest hair waved in the wind. Veins popped out of his muscles and his clouded eyes. Despite my brain screaming of the danger, I somehow managed to stay calm. Just before he slammed a massive fist into my gut, I dove low and forward. I shot beneath his legs, and his first strike missed, but he managed to bring a fist down on my back as I tumbled through. The wind shot out of my lungs. I struggled to breathe as he came back for another strike.
I did my best to focus, to start channeling the energies beneath the arena, but I didn’t have time to think. Zantho swung at my head with a roundhouse kick, and I felt it graze the top of my hair. Come on, where are you. I couldn’t detect the whispers of any spirits yet. But there was something there. Some gossamer-thin energies that my mind made a faint connection with. They were deep, much deeper than the horses were.
I dodged two more blows from Zantho, devastating punches toward my chest that would have left me incapacitated. My heart pounded. All it would take was one slip up for this to all be over.
The spirits stirred. Though deep, I could tell that they heard me, were answering to my summons. I channeled my excitement into the connection. I needed time, though, and I was desperately short on it.
Suddenly, I wondered why I was bothering to stay in the ring. To leave it would forfeit the match, but if my plan worked, that was going to happen anyway. As Zantho ran at me with his fist extended, I slipped out the ropes on the sides and ran across the stadium ground. People in the crowd stood on their seats and started booing me. I looked up to the spot in the audience where we had been watching the night before, and saw Lily staring at me in horror. To my surprise, Camilla was there with her. They both looked like they were watching my execution.
"It appears our cowardly challenger has given up! What’s the matter? Thought Zantho wouldn’t be tough? Didn’t want to become The Black and Blue Bastard?” He laughed. “He didn’t last thirty seconds! Sorry for the anticlimactic ending, folks!”