Dark Tournament_A Romantic Fantasy Adventure_Touched Saga Spin-Off

by Elisa S. Amore

  For me, the game ended here. I’d only been fighting for her and would rather die than take her life. The Witch who had put her into play had studied her moves well.

  Stella stood over me, brandishing the scythe. Rising to my knees, I rested my throat against the blade. I looked up at the sky, toward the Witches. To them this was all a game. Our lives didn’t matter. For me, it was Game Over.

  “Kill me if you have to,” I said softly, every hope I’d cherished for us vanishing like a puff of smoke. Tournament, my ass. By hiding the key inside Stella the Witches had deprived me of any possible chance of victory. “I’m going to keep my promise and die for you.” Maybe this was the sacrifice the clue was actually referring to.

  “Goodbye,” she said. My mind filled with memories: her laughter echoing through the grotto, her cheek against my chest after we’d made love. A tear trickled down my cheek as her voice filled my head.

  Were you with other women while I was gone?

  No one who mattered.

  So yes.

  You’ve already shot me once. We’d better not dredge up the past too much.

  Relax, big talker. Angry jealousy is for the weak . . . the weak . . . the weak . . .

  I raised my eyes to Stella. I’d seen the disappointment on her face when I kissed Kreeshna, but the hatred I saw in her eyes right now wasn’t her. She was stronger and prouder than this.

  Suddenly I remembered: the third clue wasn’t about sacrifice. It was about courage.

  “Are you prepared to die for me, Drake?”

  “Of course.” I snatched the knife off the floor and shot to my feet, planting it in her heart. “But not in this level.”

  My game wasn’t over yet.

  Though I was more than willing to sacrifice myself for her, I’d finally realized what was going on. Stella would never say those things. She would never take sides against me just out of jealousy. That wasn’t Stella. It was another of the Witches’ tricks. It was all deception. Kreeshna wanted me to level up as much as I did, so she would never have sent in Stella. It had to be a move by her adversaries to get rid of me. That meant they were afraid enough of me to want to avoid facing me. Whoever it was, she’d taken it for granted that it was normal to kill one’s own love out of jealousy. The Witches knew everything about possession but nothing about love. The freedom to love was a concept they didn’t understand.

  The dagger lodged in her heart, Stella grimaced and her red eyes lengthened like a serpent’s. There was no doubt about it: this was the work of one of the Witches. Stella’s face disintegrated like dust in the wind.

  The key clattered to floor. It was a red crescent. I knelt and picked it up, then looked up again, defiantly raising it toward the Witches.

  But be brave and beware of the red one’s trick. If it was bravery they’d wanted me to demonstrate, I’d just overcome my trial.

  I had the third key.

  25

  Level One

  I stood there waiting for the horn to sound, but it didn’t happen. Why was I still there? I had all three keys, I should have moved on to the next level. Had another Champion beat me to it? Had I not noticed the horn because I was so wrapped up in Stella? Or had I counted wrong?

  A sudden sound put me on alert. I leapt over the alley wall and my eyes bulged: shadows had filled all the streets. There was no way out. Now that they were closer I could see them clearly. They were every child’s nightmare, the shadow lurking under the bed. I could see through their bodies and their faces were like masks frozen in an eternal scream.

  The other Champions were still there in the heat of battle, cutting off the heads of the shadows, reducing them to ash. Without thinking twice, I joined the fray. Unless I was mistaken, there was still one spot left on the chariot to victory, and I couldn’t afford to miss it.

  Pulling out my heavy artillery, I strode toward the crowd, firing nonstop with both hands. Shadows collapsed to the ground, clearing a path. I slowly turned in a circle, my arms spread wide and my fingers squeezing both triggers. I was tired and wounded, but with Kreeshna’s blood in my body I felt invincible. Or maybe it was desperation that was making me feel that way. I couldn’t lose. Not now.

  Once my ammo was used up I unsheathed the daggers and plowed through the shadows, taking on the damned bastards and anybody else who got in my way. Black blood drenched me as I bellowed, drowning out the sounds of the battle. It was a roar of rage I could no longer contain. Rage toward the puppeteers pulling my strings, rage over Gurdan. Rage over Stella. Even though I knew it hadn’t really been her, seeing her die beneath my blade had broken me in half. If I’d let her kill me I would have lost, condemning her. I hadn’t saved Stella yet, but at least I still had the chance to do it. I hated the Witches even more for forcing me to witness what would happen if I didn’t win. Our lives were at stake and I knew Stella would die before my eyes.

  A shadow darted past me. I raced after it, but another Champion blocked my way and struck it down first. We found ourselves face to face, but it wasn’t time for us to battle each other yet. It would have been a pointless waste of time. Our most pressing challenge right now was getting past this level.

  He nodded to me, then dove back into the thick of the battle. Three keys dangled from his armor. He too had found them all but was still trapped here. Like me.

  We had to get out, but how? Disoriented, I stopped to look around. I’d assumed that the keys would be used to open a lock, but there were no doors of any kind anywhere. What did the Witches want us to do? Killing all the shadows would be impossible. It was just a waste of time. For every one I took down, two more appeared.

  I was surrounded. “What do you expect me to do?!” I screamed at the sky. “How the hell do I find the way out?!” A shadow scratched my back. I grabbed it by the throat and raised it off the ground. Another one sank its teeth into the wound on my shoulder and I howled in pain. I turned to annihilate it, but something about its face had changed. It wasn’t translucent like the others any more. It was materializing, its eyes lengthening. Though it had been hideous before, now—with half a shadow face—it was absolutely horrific.

  I stood stock-still as it grabbed me by the shoulders. “We are our own way out,” it gurgled, its voice as deep as a curse. It let go of me and exploded into a myriad of pieces. I began to understand what had happened. The shadow had drunk Kreeshna’s blood from my wound. That was why it had begun to solidify, but then hadn’t survived.

  Staggering back, I felt a shiver run down my spine. We are our own way out. What did that mean? I sank to my knees, overwhelmed by the urgency of the mission I couldn’t accomplish. My shoulder burned like fire. I clutched at the ground as other shadows attempted to tear the flesh from my bones. Would this be my end? The end of everything? I didn’t care about dying, but I couldn’t bear the thought that this time Stella wouldn’t forgive me.

  I’d given it my all. I had found the keys. But I hadn’t managed to get out.

  Get out.

  Get out.

  Get out.

  The words echoed through my head. Three keys to stay in but not to get out. I gritted my teeth against the constantly throbbing ache in my shoulder. A white-hot fire was devouring me, keeping me from thinking straight. Why wasn’t Kreeshna healing the wound?

  Suddenly I had an idea. I took out the keys and laid them on the ground. Each had a different shape. The first one looked like a lump of curved metal, the second coiled around itself with a tapered end, making it resemble a tail. But it was when I examined the third one that I understood. It was flattened, like a head. They weren’t three separate keys but rather, three parts of a whole. I moved them closer and they began to tremble, drawn to each other. They snapped together, forming an emblem: a Dakor, the Witches’ serpent.

  A shiver of enthusiasm ran through me as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place: the metal Dakor was the same shape as the wound in my shoulder. We are our own way out. The solution had been there all along. That was why th
e Witch’s blood hadn’t healed me. I brought the trinket close to my shoulder and the serpent sprang to life, confirming my theory. The wound throbbed like a summons. My eyes bulged as the creature slithered over my skin and nestled its body into the wound left by the bite. It was a perfect fit for the key.

  It was ironic that the Witches had included a trial like this for us to pass to the next level. The Dakor were forever lurking in their flesh. Seeing a serpent enter a Subterranean must have been amusing for the Sisterhood. Satisfying, even. It was the millionth demonstration of their dominion over us. But if they thought I cared about that even one little bit, they were wrong. For Stella, I would have eaten the Dakor if that was what it took.

  A shudder ran through me and I rose to my feet. The shadows pulled back and exploded, forming a single massive cloud of black dust around me. All at once, each particle froze in midair as though someone had hit the pause button. The landscape around me dissolved into millions of pixels that vanished on the wind, whisking away the virtual reality.

  I found myself back in the Arena. The horn sounded for the last spot. Mine. A voice filled my head.

  Level one complete.

  26

  The Courage of Those Who Remain

  The crowd burst into cheers when I made my appearance in the Arena. The walls that had sucked us into the virtual reality were once again surrounding the battlefield. My face on the screens showed everyone the last Champion to make it through. A list of statistics appeared beside my image as though I really were a character in a video game—only I was real. My wounds stung and my hands were covered with the blood of those who had gotten in my way.

  In addition to vital stats like my energy level and the amount of lymphe remaining in my body, other scores appeared next to my name, corresponding to the abilities I had demonstrated: Speed: 8. Resilience: 9. These were followed by others, including Ingenuity, Stoicism, and Heroism. Finally, Bravery: 10. The highest score possible.

  Some abilities had no scores next to them: Mental endurance. Physical endurance. Strength.

  Hadn’t I already proven those? What were the Witches expecting? What trial did they plan to subject us to? We weren’t allowed to know in advance what kind of trial we were about to face, but I suspected the crowd could see it from our scores on the screen.

  A drum roll brought my mind back to the Arena.

  On the screens, some of the charts faded away: those of the Champions I’d left behind by leveling up before them. Their Witches’ thrones quickly descended, eliminating them from the game. The vanquished Witches immediately transformed into panthers and began to patrol the Arena.

  I memorized my opponents’ scores, their strengths and weaknesses. Under the heading Self-sacrifice, one of them had a score of one. The bastard. I wondered who or what else he had destroyed to save his own ass.

  On the charts of the disqualified players I’d noticed that some of them hadn’t been successful in their bravery trial. I had faced Stella. I wondered what they had come up against. In a single Arena, nine different trials. We had all been pawns in the same game, but the real battle had been waged inside our minds. To each his own challenge. And I had gotten through them all.

  I looked at Kreeshna, who was still sitting high above on her throne of power. Her eyes were waiting for mine, shining with pride. Being victorious over her Sisters mattered more to her than anything else.

  For a brief moment the screens panned the crowd, which was in a frenzy over the Champions who had made it. Suddenly they stopped on Stella’s face. Our eyes locked as though she were really right next to me. A wave of emotion gripped my chest at seeing her still alive, her eyes full of hope. She was counting on me. She trusted me, trusted that I would save her. I had no intention of letting her down.

  When her image disappeared I turned to look for her, desperate, but the only people in the Arena were the Champions, separated from everyone else by the giant screens. The thought that she was on the other side of them made me nervous. I balled my hands into fists to keep myself from scaling them barehanded to reach her. I might even have done it, but that would be signing our death sentence.

  On the Panthior, the platform of honor above the center of the Arena, Sophìa rose from her throne and the crowd held its breath. Slowly she clapped her hands. The sound echoed through the Arena as black butterflies fluttered around her.

  “The bravest, the fastest, the cleverest. The six most valiant Champions of the Tournament have my admiration. With their abilities they have demonstrated that they know how to survive in any perilous situation.” The screens showed the charts of the six remaining Champions and then mixed them up, grouping us together, three against three. “They are the finest of the finest,” Sophìa went on. “The time has come for them to battle one other.”

  The crowd went wild, eager to watch us fight each other to the death. The bastard who had sent me to Hell was still in the Tournament. Good. I couldn’t wait to annihilate him.

  The Empress clapped her hands a final time and the screens withdrew into the ground. The Damned burst into cheers at finally seeing us in the flesh.

  I looked around desperately for Stella. I knew she was there among the she-warriors, but there were too many of them. I couldn’t find her.

  A commotion caught my attention and I saw her. She pushed her way through the other Mizhyas. They blocked her path, but she broke free and beat the she-warriors back with a staff, knocking to the ground anyone who got in her way. She threw the weapon down and ran toward me.

  At the same instant, I saw a panther eyeing her.

  “Stella, no!” It would tear her to pieces if she got close to the Arena. Without thinking twice, I raced toward her. As soon as Stella stepped onto the battlefield, the panther launched its attack, bounding toward her, claws out.

  “No!!!” I screamed, flinging myself at the animal. I knew that behind its appearance was a Witch and that I had no chance against her. A single scratch from her poisoned claws and I would be out for the count, but I didn’t care. I grasped the panther around the belly and tumbled across the ground with it. Getting to my knees, I quickly withdrew my hands. I hadn’t gone over the edge yet.

  The crowd was paralyzed in the stands: Stella was inside the Arena. She had crossed the borderline. The panther rose up, ready to attack her again, but I shielded Stella with my body. Kreeshna stood up from her throne. For her, everything was at stake, but would her blood be enough to give me the strength to defeat one of her Sisters?

  “Halt!” We all turned toward the Empress. “Kreeshna’s Champion has proved his valor. However, the tournament is not yet over and this may well be these two lovers’ final farewell. We shall grant them one last moment together.”

  The stands cheered, surprised to finally discover what I was fighting for. Kreeshna didn’t seem pleased, but didn’t protest. After all, it was better than letting her Sister devour me, eliminating me from the game.

  “Nausyka, step aside.” Vexed, the panther growled, but left the Arena. It had a ring of white fur around its left ear, and its blue eyes glittered defiantly.

  I turned to Stella and practically smothered her in my arms. It felt like an eternity since the last time I’d held her close, the last time I had felt so complete and at peace. I wasn’t willing to give up that sensation.

  “Drake,” she murmured, stroking the wounds on my arm.

  I cupped her face in my hands and rested my forehead against hers. “This isn’t goodbye, I promise.”

  A tear slid down her cheek as she nodded. I kissed her and she whispered “I love you” against my lips, breaking my heart.

  “Shh . . .” I couldn’t bear the note of farewell in her voice. “Tell me that when I come back,” I said softly.

  She tore a strip off the hem of her shirt and wound it around my arm, resting her forehead against it.

  “I’m doing great. I’ll kick everybody’s ass. You’ll see.”

  A faint smile curved her lips. “Speaking of which, you
should watch it with the profanity.”

  “Me? Profanity? I never swear. Which screen have you been watching me on?!” I joked.

  The horn sounded.

  I held her tight, not wanting the moment to end, but a group of Mizhyas entered the field and tore her away from me.

  “Drake!” she cried, tears streaking her face. She struggled as they dragged her away. I couldn’t look at her. A tear slid painfully down my face, seeping into my heart. I hung my head. The thought of saying goodbye to her forever was unbearable. The horn sounded again and I clenched my fists, turning to face the center of the Arena.

  “Good luck, Champions,” Sophìa said. “Gahl sum keht.”

  The warriors stepped back, bewildered, as the ground dissolved into millions of pixels, sucking us into the void. The second level had begun.

  27

  May Each Forge His Glory

  The entire floor of the Arena had cracked open, sending us tumbling into space. Announced by a tremor in the ground, a dome slowly rumbled closed over us, isolating us again from the spectators. The curved glass surface had the images of the Champions still competing projected onto it. We were like white mice in a labyrinth of death.

  Our skills had determined who was on each team. Six contestants in all: three against three. Only two of us would remain in the running.

  The opposing team disappeared, hiding among some ruins that had suddenly appeared. I got to my feet and looked around, fascinated. We were still in an arena, but this time it was on Earth: an underground level of the Colosseum in Rome. The crowds roared, hungry to see us do battle. This time there were no virtual realities to hide us from them, though the glass muffled their cheers. Our teams’ charts became visible on the surface of the dome. I made my way through the ruins, hiding myself behind the tall walls of the ancient corridors. I touched one of them. The gladiators’ blood seemed to pulse in the blocks of ancient stone. Now I was one of them.