by Jadie Jones
“These few soldiers are but a piece of Asher’s army.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“Lucas has requested that he alone answers that question for you. I do not enjoy honoring his requests, but the Powers have bid it so. Now watch. This is what you’re here for.” She faces ahead and nods at me to do the same, but I can only think of Lucas. And that he wants to be the one to tell me. For the first time since beginning my Origin, I feel like I still matter to him in this form. That he might care about me like he did about Spera.
The metal gates on the long end of the arena swing open and Spera and Cavilla are led by guards into the center of the arena. Their limbs are bound and shackled. Cavilla’s skin is lined in places, darkened in a pattern that is all at once familiar and completely foreign. With a start I realize the effect on her skin, just like Spera’s hair: the blood from the match is manifesting physically. Cavilla is obviously matched with the tiger, and Spera is no doubt the weaker of the two. Without warning, she lunges at Spera, nearly toppling the two guards holding her chains. A primal hiss escapes her bared teeth.
“Be still!” Asher calls smoothly to Cavilla. “Soon you will have nothing holding you back.”
Their eyes lock on each other’s as mine dart back and forth between the two. The guards remove their restraints and the floor begins to tilt, the stale air held captive in my lungs burning a path up my throat. I let it out and draw in a new breath, the arena refocusing in my wide eyes. This has already happened. This has already happened.
“Now. Fight for me. Fight for us all. And fight for my love!” Asher cries and raises his hands. “Let it begin!” A roar grows so quick and so loud inside the rocky chamber that I ready myself to run, sure the walls will come tumbling down at any moment. But the stone holds, even as the sound intensifies and Asher’s army pounds their spears against their shields in a horrific, hypnotic rhythm.
The two girls circle one another. Even though every eye in the arena is trained on them, my eyes feel drawn to Asher’s throne. He leans forward on his marbled chair, staring hungrily at Spera. He hasn’t glanced once at Cavilla. Another girl sits to his left, but she isn’t watching the fight. Her gray eyes gaze unwaveringly at his cold face. She runs a hand through her long blond hair. Even from one hundred feet away, I recognize the shape of the ring on her finger.
“Vanessa,” I whisper, astounded.
“That is Lenya,” my guide says and motions to the girl at Asher’s side. “She was the other girl to gain favor with Asher. She fought this morning and was victorious. She and the victor here will face each other at sundown.”
I am besieged by a wave of familiarity and an earthquake of grief. Best case scenario, one of us lives. Worst case scenario: both Spera and Lenya are burned in a pile of other candidates’ ashes.
Cavilla lets out a roar that sounds so much like a tiger that it makes me crash out of my head just in time to watch her lunge for Spera’s throat. Spera drops her shoulder and Cavilla rolls across her narrow back, dragging two clawed hands across her spine. Spera closes her eyes against the pain, her jaw setting as the carnal need to survive ripples in every visible muscle. She squares her shoulders and lowers her body to a crouch as Cavilla springs to her feet, the delirious grin from the underground cellar reappearing on her face.
“Are you ready, Spera?” she sings, weaving her head back and forth. Spera waits, her stance unchanging, as Cavilla circles to her left. “Don’t you know better than to leave your back unguarded?” she hisses from directly behind her. Cavilla waits, no doubt expecting Spera to move or turn or run. Just like I am. Like we all are, watching the standoff in eerie quiet. Cavilla sinks down on the balls of her feet and then springs forward. She closes the distance between them inside of a single heartbeat, Spera still unmoving.
Cavilla punches the final step off the ground, soaring toward Spera’s torn back. Spera turns and lifts her hands toward Cavilla’s head as Cavilla reaches for her throat, claws outstretched. But Spera is faster, planting her palms on either side of Cavilla’s face. The crack of her neck is swift and loud. Cavilla goes limp in her hands, life leaving her body instantaneously. Spera lays her fallen competitor down on the sandy floor.
The audience erupts in a thunderous roar and pumps their spears into the air. Spera does not acknowledge their cheers. Instead, she kneels beside her enemy’s still body and closes her eyelids with her fingers. Her lips move quickly in a silent prayer. Without a single glance at the audience, she stands and walks quickly to the towering gates. Asher’s stare never leaves her back.
My eyes move from Spera to Cavilla. To my hands. And then to my mark. Three circles. Three deaths.
“Spera kills Lenya,” I whisper. “It’s the only reason I have three. I can’t watch her die.”
“Then I suggest that when the time comes you close your eyes,” my guide responds. I move away from her. She catches me by the hand. “The reason you’re here has yet to be revealed. You must understand where you’ve been to recognize what lies ahead. The three kills are every bit as important as the new blood. The process cannot truly begin without them.”
I open my mouth in protest, but before I can utter a sound the wretched arena falls away.
22 The worst kind of choice
The transition is mercifully fast, and gives the whirling in my mind a new distraction. Just make it through this. There can’t be much more. And if Asher is after me, then he’s after Vanessa, too. The more I see here, the better I’ll be able to defend us both.
We stand in the corner of a large banquet room, which is filled with soldiers from the arena. The high walls are made of translucent quartz. Flames dance behind the clear stone from floor to ceiling. Silver platters stacked high with meat blanket a long marble table. Asher sits at the center, posing regally on an onyx throne. Lenya and Spera are chained on either side of him. Their shackles are only long enough for them to reach from the table to Asher’s mouth; Lenya feeds him each time he sets his eyes on her.
Spera stares straight ahead, holding her chin high in defiance. I catch myself mimicking her. It’s the first thing that’s made me smile since first putting eyes on Lucas in the dungeon.
“Are you not hungry, my dear?” Asher’s smooth voice makes me dizzy with resentment. I clench and flex my hands at my sides.
“No, thank you,” Spera answers without facing him.
“But you must have worked up such an appetite.”
“You eat although you do not hunger,” she counters. His pale eyes glower at her.
“Lenya, you are certainly the more enjoyable company. I do wish you well this evening,” Asher says without taking his menacing eyes off of Spera’s stony profile. Lenya’s gray eyes flicker briefly to Spera. Suddenly, a moan escapes her lips and her body begins to seize.
Spera jumps to her feet but her chained arm yanks her sideways and she falls into the side of Asher’s throne. She grits her teeth and stares across the lofty room. I follow her gaze to Lucas’s face. His body tenses with helplessness.
Lenya whimpers face down on the marble table. Asher pets her head and watches her rolling eyes.
“What’s happening?” I whisper to my guide.
“Lenya can see visions of the future.”
Vanessa can do that, too. Lenya blinks rapidly as she regains consciousness.
“Lenya, darling. Tell me what you see. What does the future hold?” Lenya collapses across Asher’s lap, and he nuzzles her face against his broad thigh like a cat. He strokes her hair with his hand.
“Of my victory, my beloved. And of the new life that follows.”
Spera’s amber eyes are hard and fast on Lenya’s face. As are mine. What if Lenya kills Spera? Fear and guilt crawl up my back; Spera’s defeat at the hands of Lenya is a possibility I haven’t considered. And why not? Maris herself said no other Seen thing is stronger than me. And if I get my strength from Spera, then she should win no problem. Before I can stop it, my mind begins to create how the figh
t might play out.
“I have waited so long for this day,” Asher says. He casts his eyes from Lenya to Spera and traces their jaws with his thumb. Lenya moves into his touch. Spera pretends that she doesn’t feel it. A moment of conflict creases his face and then vanishes.
“Come now, so that I may reward you for your efforts,” he says with a growl. Spera shudders at his words, the same shiver finding my back as well. We both keep our eyes trained on Lucas as he steps to her side with a second guard and shackles her arms and legs. Calen and another guard fit Lenya with her restraints.
Asher leads the way across the great hall to a pair of double doors made of solid iron. My guide and I blend into the small processional and follow them into the next room. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before, ethereal and impossible. The round wall is made of a blue-black stone that glitters like a clear night. The circular ceiling and floor are mirrored, reflecting the tiny sparkles over and over.
The guards usher Lenya and Spera into the center of the round room and then step away. Asher walks a menacing circle around the two, leaving a wake of black flames behind him. As he closes the ring, the fire seals the three of them inside. I watch, horrified and spellbound, as Lenya bows in front of him. He smirks at her show of submission and brings a finger to her bare back. Her skin sizzles under his touch as he draws a second perfect circle beside the brand from yesterday’s battle, which has already begun to scar over. She does not wince, even as smoke and blood trickle from her skin.
“Vanessa said she’d never seen a mark like mine. Why doesn’t she know that she’s marked?”
“I am not to speak of the Origin of another,” my guide offers in monotone words. “But if you can each call out the other’s original name, you will be able to speak about what transpired here.”
Immediately, I begin to catalog what I need to relay to her—starting with the most important thing: keeping our eyes out for Asher. If Lucas can shape-shift into other people, I have no doubt that Asher can, too. Is it possible that he’s already in our lives somehow? He’s shown this face to me, so I doubt he’s hiding as anyone in my life. But what about Vanessa? Could he have already found her?
I watch Lenya thank Asher as she stands. He moves in front of Spera, who stares unwaveringly at his face.
“I have come to rather enjoy your resistance in this. True, you will not bow to me, but this also brings your face so delightfully close to mine,” he says as he brings a finger to her sternum. Spera is a statue under his touch. My gaze falls to the identical symbol burned into my chest. A new pain throbs from the mark. Three circles. Three wins. Three deaths. Vanessa’s death.
“I can’t watch Lenya die. I won’t.”
“We are moving on,” my guide says, ignoring me. I watch Spera and Lenya standing together in a ring of black flames until they have completely faded from view.
A dimly lit room with a dirt floor solidifies around us. Spera and Lenya sit side by side in separate cages, each dressed in identical, white linen shifts. Lenya leans against the wall between them, her gray eyes trained on Spera.
“Where are we?” I ask, keeping my voice as low as possible.
“Beneath the arena. This is the final holding chamber. Asher makes the last candidates spend time together before they fight.”
“Why?”
“If they learn about each other or bond at all it will be a more complete betrayal of humanity for the victorious one. Asher is closer to his goal now than he has ever been before. He will not leave anything to chance.”
“I have something for you,” Lenya whispers. Spera doesn’t move a muscle. “Spera, please. I come in peace.”
“Is that so?” she scoffs.
Please, Spera, I silently beg. Just give her a chance. But on the heels of that thought, reluctance crawls across my skin as survival lays claim to my nervous system.
“It is. I promise you,” Lenya pleads.
Spera glances at her over her bare shoulder. “I’m listening,” she snarls.
A guard I hadn’t yet noticed shifts his weight in the shadowed far corner. As he repositions, Lucas’s face is revealed in the glow of the closest lantern. I close my eyes against the idea of running to him, seeing if he would be solid beneath my fingers.
“I know about Lucas,” Lenya whispers quietly. Spera’s eyes go wide with panic as mine fly open and search Lenya’s face. “No, I don’t mean you any malice,” she adds quickly. “I only mean to live. You want your life with Lucas, and I want mine however I can keep it.”
“I do not believe you. I have seen the way you behave with Asher. You love him,” Spera argues, visibly shaken.
“We do what we have to in order to protect our interests, don’t we?” Lenya says and glances in Lucas’s direction. “I wish to live, and that would not be possible in this next battle. You will kill me easily. But I do not want to die, and you do not want your secret revealed. I can protect your interest if you can protect mine.”
“I will not let you kill me.”
“That’s not what I am asking. I think there’s a way that we can both survive this night.” Lenya twists a ring off her finger and hands it to Spera. “Take this. I have another one. If we each wear them, we can speak without sounds.” She shows Spera the identical ring on her other hand. “Do as I tell you once the battle begins and I will do my best to make sure we both survive.”
“How do you know this will work?” Spera asks as she slips on the ring.
“Because this is what I saw during the banquet,” she confesses. “What I told Asher was a lie.”
Spera studies her face with skepticism.
Do you hear me? Lenya’s mind calls out. Spera’s lips crack with disbelief. The sound of Lenya’s voice in my head brings me to my knees, the connection to her too heavy a thing to square with the thoughts I’ve had about Spera’s victory. Never had I considered they might both come through this alive. Of course Lenya would think of something. Vanessa always does. I crawl beside them and press my own hands against the front of their cages.
Can you hear me? I call out to them, but nothing comes. I rein in my disappointment and wrap my fingers around the bars, so close to them that I could reach out and touch them.
“What else have your visions revealed to you?” Spera presses, edging toward her with new interest.
“I have seen Asher’s greed. He fantasizes about having us both. And I think we can use that to our advantage.” The grinding sounds of moving metal screech from somewhere above the holding chamber. “It’s almost time,” Lenya says, flitting her eyes to the ceiling. “You must trust me, Spera. Follow my lead once we’re in there. We can both survive this, and then I will help you and Lucas escape.”
“Why would you help us?” Spera asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“I have done some dark things here,” Lenya answers softly. “My soul is desperate for a way to set something right.”
“If you truly think you can help us escape, why not leave with us?”
“He made me slaughter my own parents in their sleep the night he took me. My first battle was against my sister. I have nothing to go back to.”
“Asher’s cruelty is not a reason to stay. I won’t leave you here,” Spera insists through clenched teeth. I have to forcibly stop my own hand from snaking through the bars and grabbing hold of Lenya’s arm. The sound of marching footsteps grows louder as guards approach the little room.
“Focus, Spera. We must both live first, and we will only have one chance,” Lenya hisses back. “Let us get through this day first and then we will find a way out of here.”
Spera turns a tense eye to the main door as it swings open. Calen leads two fellow guards into the holding chamber. Lenya growls and lunges at Spera, swiping at her face through the gaps in the bars. She bares her teeth, shrieking angrily.
Follow my lead. Lenya’s silent words echo in my mind. Spera glowers at Lenya and throws her lean body against the metal bars.
“This is goi
ng to be something to see; your Spera versus my Lenya.” Calen says and claps Lucas on the back. “Everyone is whispering that Asher has truly succeeded this time. The whole Unseen realm has its ear turned to us this day. We’re almost free, brother.”
“Finally free? What does that mean?” I ask my guide in a hushed voice.
“Their true forms will be set free to roam your world and to feed on the Tenix until your world is just like ours.” Her face sets like a stone as she glares at the guards.
“What is Tenix?”
“It is that which binds,” she says. My face falls at her answer, my mind too exhausted and too full to decipher another one of her cryptic explanations.
“Binds what?”
“Everything.”
“Hands,” Lucas orders gruffly, drawing my gaze and ending our conversation.
Spera dutifully slides her forearms between the metal bars and Lenya does the same for Calen. Their hands are shackled with thick metal cuffs before they are allowed from their cages. As soon as she steps through the cage door, Lenya makes a show of throwing herself once more at Spera.
“Yes, this will be something to see,” Lucas says, mustering up a cruel laugh as they lock another set of restraints around their ankles.
Spera looks unsettled as we follow them into the arena and onto the battlefield. Asher’s plan has worked: Spera knew what she had to do before she sat side by side with Lenya. But uncertainty is now plain in her hard face. If Spera wants to win, she will. There is no question. Even Lenya seems resigned to that fact. But I doubt Asher imagined how quickly they would bond.
Could she live with Lenya’s blood on her hands? Could I? But there’s one question I can answer: I trust Lenya with Spera’s life. I’ve sent that thought out to Spera but it isn’t getting to her, echoing in my own brain like a voice across a canyon: Trust her, trust her, trust her.
The soldiers chant and raise their spears as Lenya and Spera are led to separate ends of the ring. Even Lucas seems lost in the finality of the moment at hand. He absently runs his hand across Spera’s in a subconscious offer of comfort.