Dark Tournament_A Romantic Fantasy Adventure_Touched Saga Spin-Off

by Elisa S. Amore

  “I don’t need special weapons to fight you,” I told him as I peppered him with punches.

  Assin managed to pull away from my wrath and dove back into the die. I followed him through into the virtual reality and this time managed to dodge his attack. The shield on my arm reactivated, absorbing the blast from his laser gun. When it grew incandescent I tossed it aside.

  The armor was certainly useful, but on the screens I was definitely hotter without a shirt on.

  The nail gun. Obeying my wish, my gloves fired a shower of deadly nails at him. My opponent tried to take shelter but one of them sank into his tibia, making him double over in pain. As I closed in on him I noticed razor-sharp disks scattered on the icy ground. So I hadn’t been firing nails after all. They were ninja stars.

  Before I could reach him, he cut a hole in the ground with his laser, climbed in, and sealed the ice over him. The bastard. I rushed to the spot and stared at him through the window of ice. We were in the same position, on our hands and knees, trapped in two different worlds, but with one sole objective: to win the tournament. I pounded my fist against the ice and he smirked. He had gained enough time for his wound to heal.

  Suddenly he vanished. I peered through the ice, but it had grown thick and I couldn’t see all the way through to the other side. Where had he gone?

  “Never turn your back on your enemy.” Assin grabbed me from behind and hurled me away. He’d created another hole between the two dimensions. He proceeded to make another and another and yet another, reducing the surface of the die to Swiss cheese.

  “Wanna play hide-and-seek, you bastard?” I dove into one of the holes but didn’t stay long on the other side. I found him in another one of the holes and, clinging to the edge, threw myself on top of him.

  All at once the ground tilted, jostling us like marionettes in a puppet show. A knife shot out of my palm and I instinctively jammed it into the ice for a handhold.

  It was the die. The Witches had begun to turn again on their platforms, and with them the huge die beneath us. I felt like I was on a spinning top. When it stopped moving and began to tilt, a terrible suspicion prompted me to move, and fast.

  31

  Win or Die

  The Witches were playing dice with our lives.

  I dug a second dagger into the ice and scrambled upward for dear life. Until that moment the die had only moved horizontally, but now it had tilted dangerously upward. It was turning upside down, threatening to make us fall into empty space. I reached the edge and pulled myself up onto another side of the die, the one covered with black blood.

  Not far away, I could see Assin. He was also exhausted after the grueling climb. I had to seize my chance. I slid down toward him and knocked him over.

  My hand sank into the black slime and I felt it solidify beneath my fingers. “Fascinating,” I murmured, studying the malleable substance. With a flick of my wrist I pulled a handful of it up into a pillar that glistened like black ice. No, not ice. Carbonado, the Witches’ favorite diamond. The harpies wanted us Champions to be just like the cursed gem: cold, hard, deadly. I quickly surrounded Assin with a series of sharp pillars, sealing him into a cage. In response, he swung his unsheathed sword, shattering the bars of his cage into thousands of black shards that flew toward me. I raised a wall to shield myself and heard them crash against it.

  Figures rose up out of the muck: an army forged by Assin, programmed to kill me. I lunged toward my adversary, reducing his soldiers to bits. “Sorry I broke your dollies,” I said when I reached him. Hatred returned to burn in my veins. “Not even an entire army can keep me from killing you for what you did to me and my friends.”

  “I had nothing against you, you should know that. Once I’d taken your place, you were in the way, that’s all.”

  “What did you do to my friends?!” I snarled, rushing at him. I would mix his red blood with the black slime and then I would turn him into a fossil.

  “I blew the icy breath of death upon them, as I was ordered to.”

  I froze, my blood running cold. “You did what?!” I yelled. I couldn’t bear the thought that he had harmed my friends. It had to be a lie, a trick to weaken me. “You’re lying!”

  “Someone died in that house, and I’m not talking about you,” he said with a complacent smirk.

  I was in shock. Had that bastard killed Gemma? Evan would never have let that happen. A supernatural strength surged up inside me. I charged him and a powerful energy burst from my palms, hurling him to the far end of the battlefield. I stared at my fists, feeling the power course through my veins. They sparkled orange, like the potion I’d drunk in the Arena. At the Castle Subterraneans weren’t allowed to have powers, but during the Games it seemed we were.

  “Come to think of it, since you’re here it means they must’ve kicked your ass,” I retorted. His sneer became a glower. “What’s wrong, don’t feel like smiling any more?” Even if Assin had managed to kill my brother’s girlfriend, they had definitely made him pay for it. “My family must’ve punished you for your sins, but now it’s my turn to take my revenge.” I swept up the carbonado and it wound around his body, raising him up as though he were tied to a stake.

  Just then the die moved, turning over again.

  As I slid down I tried to grab hold of something, to shape handholds for myself, but the slime itself was oozing down the die, covering it like poisoned caramel on an apple.

  The ropes of slime binding Assin’s body kept him firmly rooted to the surface of the die, even though it was spinning, whereas I slid down its side, desperately grappling for something to hold onto. Beneath me, Oblivion beckoned, threatening to swallow me up. If I fell off, it was the end, the end for both me and Stella. I refused to give in.

  The die tilted upwards, giving me a small respite, but I lost my grip and rolled down. As I fell, I snatched at one of the spikes covering the bottom of the die and clung to it with all my might. I had to hold on until the die stopped, but my chances weren’t good, dangling over the void as I was. I looked at the strip of cloth Stella had tied around my arm. She was counting on me. I couldn’t let her down. Somehow, I had to climb up to the top before Assin was declared the winner. The problem was I had no idea how to get there.

  “What a thorny situation,” I muttered, passing from one spike to the next. The entire surface was covered with them. I was happy the die hadn’t stopped with that side up.

  “The thorns hold the sweetest poison.”

  My head snapped toward the voice. Assin.

  “How the hell—” My eyes bulged when his head appeared below the edge of the die, upside-down. How was he staying attached to the wall? “Did your armor come with a user’s manual or what?”

  His expression turned cutting. “I’ve come to finish what I started. This time I’m not giving you a hand.”

  Tightening my grip on the spikes, I swung my legs up and pinned his head between them. Assin pulled back in surprise but I clung tight and dragged him down. He tried to grab me but slipped and plunged into the void with a scream.

  “Me neither,” I shot back, watching him fall.

  I heaved a long sigh. It wasn’t over yet. I swung from one spike to the next, finally pushing myself up onto the vertical side of the die. There I made the welcome discovery that my gloves magically remained attached to its sheer wall. I climbed it easily.

  My face filled the screens as I pulled myself up onto the top surface of the die. I raised my head, a look of triumph on my face. The entire Arena erupted in cheers for the new Champion. Cheers for me. I clenched my fists, staring at Kreeshna. I had won.

  Pride filled her serpent-like eyes when the throne of her last Sister descended and she remained. The final Witch in the game.

  My eyes sought Stella among the crowd. It was over. At last, it was all over. Stella and I would be free to live in peace, hidden away in some little corner of Hell, holding each other close in our secret paradise.

  I continued to carefully scan the crowd,
but I couldn’t find her. Where was she?

  The end of the tournament had caused pandemonium among the Damned. No doubt countless bets had been won—and lost—with my victory. Nevertheless, the most coveted prize would be going to me and I couldn’t wait to claim it.

  The Arena came to rest on the ground with a thud, sealing off the abyss of death as the Damned went wild with excitement. That is, until they heard the Empress’s voice.

  “Silence!” As though she had cast a spell, stillness instantly fell over the stands. “It is time to applaud she who has earned this victory, our Sisterhood’s beloved Kreeshna. Kneel before her!”

  All obeyed as Kreeshna descended from her throne and strode toward me in the center of the Arena. A swarm of black butterflies fluttered in our direction. They danced around us and then came together to form the spiky crown.

  “Let all those present revere the new Queen of the Dark Tournament, she who trained and guided her Champion to victory, vanquishing all her Sisters.” Sophìa shouted Kreeshna’s name again and again, encouraging the Damned to follow suit.

  I snorted. Like she was the person who’d won it.

  An army of she-warriors marched toward us. Was Stella among them? I struggled to spot her among the hundreds of faces, but Kreeshna grasped my hand and thrust it into the air, showing me off to the kingdom like her trophy.

  “Drake Reeves,” Sophìa announced, but I didn’t hear her. The voices in the Arena faded away as my eyes nervously surveyed the approaching she-warriors. The sound of their footsteps crowded my mind, drowning out even the clamor of the Damned. “You have valiantly battled fearsome adversaries,” the Empress went on. “For your Amìsha you have forged your glory. Henceforth you will forever live as her Champion.”

  I turned to Kreeshna, devastated by the proclamation. “What is she talking about?” She gave me an evil smile. “Hold on!” I protested. “I won. You’ve got to give me what I’ve earned!” The she-warriors surrounded me, blocking my path and keeping me at a distance from the new queen. “No . . .” I whispered desperately. This wasn’t really happening. I looked for Stella among them, but my head began to reel.

  Then I heard her voice in the distance. I spun around and saw her at the edge of the Arena. A group of Mizhyas put her in chains and dragged her away.

  “Drake!!” Her desperate cry broke my heart in two.

  “Stella!!” I tried to reach her, straining against the Mizhyas that held me back. I killed two of them, but a moment later the panthers streamed onto the field, snarling at me. The Mizhyas held me down. Their strength was no doubt enhanced by Kreeshna’s powers, because I was unable to break free.

  “Let me go!” I snarled, trying to wrench myself free. Why were they taking her away? “Kreeshnaaa!” I shouted the name with all the anguish of a man sentenced to death. After all, that was exactly what I was without Stella. “I didn’t do all this just for your fucking glory!”

  The Witch smiled. “But that’s exactly what you did it for. That’s what all our Champions do it for. Did you really think you would be given a reward different from what the others fought for? Don’t worry. I’ll reward you properly for your efforts.”

  “I’ll never fuck you, you ugly snake!” I spat at her feet and the crowd let out an audible gasp. A Champion who spat at his queen after winning the crown for her wasn’t something you saw every day. I knew Kreeshna would make me pay for the insult, but what else could she take from me that she hadn’t already stolen?

  “Oh yes you will, and I promise you’ll like it.”

  I growled like a caged beast. If only I could free myself I would tear her heart out. “Where are they taking her?!”

  “Where she won’t jeopardize the bond between us. By winning for me you’ve signed her death sentence.”

  I staggered back in a state of shock that verged on madness. I had won the tournament but there was no winning against the Witch. “We had a deal,” I said in a low, hoarse voice, utterly devastated.

  “You should be more careful who you make deals with.”

  “I thought the word of a Witch meant something.”

  Kreeshna laughed. “Not mine. Did you really think I would give you up after seeing you battle so ardently for me?”

  Rage flooded my chest. “I’ve never battled for you!”

  “Oh yes you have. You received my blood within you. You defeated eight opponents, the most valiant Champions in all Hell. You made me Queen of the Dark Tournament. For a thousand years I’ll bear the title—and I owe it all to you.”

  “Then let us go. You got what you wanted.”

  “A queen can’t lose her most intrepid Champion. Don’t you realize that?”

  “I’ll be your Champion, then, but let Stella go. Please.”

  “Your pretty little friend served her purpose, but now she’s only a hindrance. As long as she’s alive, part of her will forever haunt your dreams. You need to be devoted to me, body, heart, and soul. No one must ever come between us.”

  “That’s never going to happen! Let her go and I swear she’ll be dead to me.”

  “Too late. I’ve already seen to that.”

  As if on cue, Stella’s face filled the screens, her eyes bulging as a blade stabbed her in the back.

  “Nooooo!!” I shrieked. My head spun and my legs went numb. I crumpled to my knees, gripping the earth. My sight blurred with tears, I barely saw Kreeshna’s feet approaching me.

  “Bind him,” she ordered. The Mizhyas obeyed. “Losing her now will seem like the end of the world to you, but it will pass. Time and my lymphe will make you forget her completely, and together you and I will be unstoppable. Until that happens, as long as the slightest trace of her still pollutes your mind, you’ll be locked up. It may take days, years, even centuries. That’s up to you. It makes no difference to me.”

  “It’s not fair,” I whispered with my last remaining strength. Or maybe I only thought it.

  “This is Hell. What did you expect?” Kreeshna turned her back on me.

  I wished I could rip that smug smile off her face. With one last supreme effort, I managed to break free, but before I could reach her a panther pinned me to the ground, its claws sinking into my flesh. The poison rapidly entered my bloodstream. I let myself be dragged away, my mind lost in Stella’s desperate eyes as they’d carried her off in chains and I’d done nothing.

  Kreeshna was wrong. Nothing would make me forget her. Not even a thousand centuries. Those eyes would haunt my dreams for all eternity.

  I succumbed to the poison and every trace of light faded, both outside and inside of me.

  I had killed my Stella.

  32

  The Phantom Death

  I moaned as I came to. I was lying on a cold surface. The poison’s effect was wearing off and the memories came flooding back. I had learned a bitter truth: there was no winning in Hell. My armor had vanished, leaving me clad only in my pants, my body covered with wounds. The most painful one, though, was in my heart. I had killed Stella.

  How I longed to go back and undo everything. I wished I’d stayed in the Castle and never gone out looking for her. That way she would have been safe. Instead I’d condemned her to die. Stella hadn’t needed me. I was the one who had needed her.

  I’d battled, thinking I could save her, but the only way to do that would have been to lose to Assin. Another of the Witch’s tricks, the reason Kreeshna had recruited her as a Mizhya. If I’d lost and been consigned to Oblivion, Stella would have remained in her service. That was why they had waited for my victory before arresting her. It wouldn’t have made sense for Kreeshna to lose us both. The real challenge had been between Stella and me: Mizhya versus Champion. The bitterest and most painful of victories.

  “Dark Tournament” was a perfect name for it, as dark as my grieving heart. I hadn’t even been allowed to say goodbye to her . . .

  Sophìa had known that our stolen moment together before the final challenge would be our last. No matter how the tournament had en
ded, as of that moment we would never be together again. All that was left to me now was the sound of her desperate cry when she’d called my name. My eyes filled with tears at the memory of the blade sinking into her. I hadn’t protected her.

  The door creaked open and someone slipped inside. Without thinking I shot to my feet and shoved whoever it was against the wall. When I saw it was Khetra, I eased my grip, but tightened it again a second later. She was one of them.

  “I have no wounds that you can heal, Mizhya,” I growled into her face. She had always been there when I came to after an Opalion. Those harpies, the Witches, always wanted their warriors in top shape.

  Her hand stroked my face, lingering on the cuts. “This time I’m not here for that.”

  “Whatever it is you want from me, you’re not going to get it.” I grabbed her hand and shoved her away.

  She took the rejection in stride and smiled. “As full of yourself as always. Deep down that’s why I like you so much.”

  I moved close to her and jabbed my finger in her face. “I trusted you. I thought you were helping me escape, but it was part of Kreeshna’s plan all along.”

  “I didn’t want to do it, but what I want matters nothing here. Subjugating yourself means giving yourself up.”

  “A shitty deal, if you ask me.”

  “You were fine with it too until not long ago.” She rested her hand on my chest and I felt something cold in her palm. “Everyone needs redemption, Drake. Even the Damned.” I closed my fingers around the pointy object and she pulled her hood over her head. “This is mine.”

  “What about mine, then?” I stopped her before she could leave the cell. “What about my redemption?”