“Don’t touch it,” Lian said. “I have a gift, you see. Take it off, and it will poison you. Move more than five feet away from me, the same thing will happen.”
Nalah prodded the magical item. Lian was telling the truth, the magic circling the band giving light taps to her skin before pulling itself back, and one tiny thread rose from the band and split apart, pinning one side of itself to her shoulder and the other latching on to Lian.
Beylor made a motion with his head, and Lian grabbed her and jerked her upright. Beylor continued. “You’ll be fine as long as Esh makes the right choices. So quit whining. Gods, women are such a pain.”
Beylor left, muttering something about Tiffany starting to get on his nerves. Lian kept her still in the apartment, and after Beylor was long gone, spoke to her. “So you understand your circumstances,” he began, his voice perfectly pleasant. “You are dying today. If the fights don’t kill Esh, I’m going to kill you in front of him, and then I’m going to kill him. Of course, if you run from me, you’re dead that much sooner, and I’ll simply throw your dead body in front of him.”
“You can’t do that! Beylor said-”
“After I kill Esh I’m killing Beylor, so I don’t care what he said. That fool has been too lax in running his empire. It was time for it to fall.”
Nalah studied him for any hint of what was going on. With everything else going on, they hadn’t taken him seriously enough. “Why are you doing this? You’re really that jealous of the Cage King?”
Lian’s lips thinned. “I couldn’t care less about that ridiculous title. What I care about is he murdered my brother, and it’s time he paid.”
“Esh doesn’t murder anyone. If it was a cage match-”
“My brother’s name was Vitto,” Lian interrupted. “Ring any bells? It should. Your brother died in one of my brother’s matches.”
“Vitto didn’t have a brother.” This was madness. She wanted closure, right? Well, closure was slamming down on her hard, knocking her to the ground and gut-kicking her while she lay there broken and bleeding.
“‘Half-brother might’ be more accurate. While we might not have been close, Vitto was my blood, and I won’t let his death go unavenged. So I’m going to kill Esh, then take over Beylor’s operation and merge it with the remnants of my brother’s that I was able to salvage. My empire will be one everyone will envy. You won’t be around to see it, of course, but you’ll be the one who starts the dominos falling.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ring. Instead of being up front, they were in their own little box, about halfway up. Nalah had a clear view of everything, including the ring, including Beylor, and including the Pale Lady, who was taking in the scene before her, and even at this distance the woman’s magic was fearsome.
The announcer stepped up, and the crowd lit up. Nalah put her hand over the gold cuff and began working on it, fighting the Pale Lady’s power beating at her shields and concentrating everything in her to figure out how to unwind this unfamiliar innate magic. Damned if they were going to use her to control Esh, and she’d make sure they regretted putting a hand on her.
*
Rorth lunged for him, but Esh shifted his body and had the half orc hitting the ground hard, the resounding thud echoing through the building. Rorth groaned in pain.
The match had lasted a while, both of them able to take a beating. They were worse for wear, but Rorth’s face was now as distorted and misshapen as any orc’s, and his skin had a decidedly green hue.
The half orc was an excellent opponent, but the way he moved told Esh he was used to handling weapons and defending himself against a large number of opponents, not cage fighting and not fighting one on one. Nalah was correct in what she saw in him.
The crowd’s roar was beginning to penetrate his brain, and a quick glance showed bets being paid out.
Esh moved away from Rorth, waiting to see if his opponent was out or would try to rise one last time.
A few boos came from the crowd when it became apparent he wasn’t going to go after the half orc when he was down, and a chant began, started from the upper boxes. “Kill him. Kill him!”
It spread through the crowd. Kill him, kill him, kill him! Fucking cowards, so willing to watch death but they’d piss themselves if they ever entered the ring themselves. He took yet another step back, to louder boos and louder chanting.
Finally, Beylor rose, lifting his hands for quiet. “Cage King, listen to the crowd. End the match.”
“The match is ended. I won.”
Beylor’s eyes narrowed, and beside him, Tiffany began to twine her hands together, her face uncertain as she looked up to Beylor. “I said kill him.”
The end game was beginning, and now he’d get through it the way he always did – he’d fight, and the gods take pity on anyone in his way. “I won’t kill him.”
Chapter Sixteen
‡
“I won’t kill him,” Esh repeated. Raising his voice, he looked directly at Beylor. “I’m not your dog, so like fuck I’ll kill on your command.”
Beylor’s rat face had a smug smile Esh couldn’t wait to pummel off him. “You think you have a choice? Kill or die.”
“Oh, I’ll kill, don’t doubt that.” Esh enjoyed the loss of assurance from Beylor’s face. The little piggy might pretend he was king of all, but he knew the truth, and that moment proved it.
Rorth rose behind him, the half orc shaking blows and soil from his body, and the movement had the smug look returning to Beylor’s face. “You handful against my army? I don’t know why, Cage King, but I always thought once you came here and saw the truth, saw what I would give you, you’d be practical and join me. I’m disappointed this isn’t happening.”
Nalah. He had to get to Nalah. He could waste his time hoping she got to safety, but she’d proven time and again she wouldn’t run if he was in danger. It was left to him, to fight, to kill. The fire in him started its journey, the small flame that always flickered in his gut sparking, a slow inferno tripping through his limbs, burning doubt and fear and all emotions, burning everything save the one truth in his world – Nalah would live, and everything that tried to hurt her would die.
Rorth started laughing, the sound from not-an-enemy, therefore the reason for it not a concern. Beylor, though, frowned and said, “Disgusting orc, it was a mistake to bring you into the Tour.”
“For more reasons than you can know, you pathetic piece of shit,” Rorth replied in his earthquake voice. He looked up to the long, flat expanse of ceiling. In quick succession Beylor as well as those in the stands copied the movement, and even Esh’s followed in automatic response.
A crack bloomed in the center of the ceiling, chunks falling in, once in a slow pulse, then a repeat of the action again and again, the cracks now with audible accompaniment. From the corners of his eyes Esh took in the actions of those surrounding him, Beylor’s men shifting with confused jerks, and the sounds of movement and vocal mutterings from the stands.
An explosion blew the center of the roof open. Screams from the stands, shuffling became the thumps of bodies colliding, and something…someone…fell from the sky, landing in the middle of the ring, legs bent and back curled to absorb the shock, in one hand the largest, most impressive sword he’d ever seen, in the other a double-bladed axe three times normal size, the metal sharp enough to decimate stone with its edges.
The being straightened, revealing a tall human woman with long red hair. Her eyes alighted over the fighters. They paused on him and there was recognition, but then they moved to look past him and she smiled, wicked delight in what she took in. “What the four hells? You got beat? You’re not seriously expecting to be my sidekick after that, are you?”
And Rorth flipped her the bird, though his tone and eyes said he’d expected this reaction. “He’s the Cage King. Give me a break. If it was weapons it would have been different.”
“No excuses. Expect some serious sparring time, Mr. Not-the-King,” and afte
r speaking she threw the axe underhanded to Rorth.
Esh looked back as Rorth took control of the weapon, spinning the weapon in his hand with practiced ease. The axe looked more an extension of him instead of a mere weapon. The giant half orc looked straight at him as he swung the axe a few times.
The woman turned and continued her perusal, the twist of her lips expressing her opinion about their worthiness as opponents. She then turned her face to the stands where Beylor sat. Beylor must have known who she was because he shrunk back in his seat, disbelief and terror on his face for all to see.
Instead of talking to Beylor, she turned back to the fighters surrounding them. Her voice carried, as cold and strong and immovable as her stance. “I’ve got places to be and things to do, so I’m giving all you underlings a choice today. Stay and fight, you’ll die. Run away and I won’t chase you, so you’ll live until you make your next stupid decision. Any takers on running away?”
There was hesitation, shuffling in place, but Beylor had convinced himself distance meant safety because he rose, shouting, “Kill her! Kill them all!”
The slight hesitation the men experienced was lost at Beylor’s words, and they rushed forward. The woman brought her sword up to the ready. “No one ever takes advantage when I offer.”
Rorth moved beside Esh, drawing his attention away from the woman with the sword. “Go get your woman.”
And now the reason for the man being here was so obvious. “You’re Guild.”
Rorth clapped him on the back. “Talk later, go now. We’re fine here,” he said before he ran toward the guards in the other direction, axe brought high and already falling to strike its first blow.
Esh wasn’t going to argue, but then came the screams. Esh looked back to the red-haired woman, and took in the pile of bodies already at her feet and the blood covering her sword.
No, he wasn’t going to argue, but with or without him, they had nothing to fear from Beylor’s men.
Fallon.
Nalah shuddered at the magical signature, slamming against her shields full force. She’d never known Fallon like this, in the midst of war. Power radiated from her in waves, pulsing energy that threatened to topple all in the way, and with her training Nalah could only hold it off well enough to still function. Maybe it was the way Nalah saw the magic, but Fallon’s movements were in slow motion, where light glinted off the blade as it fell against the throat of an enemy, or the swing of her hair suspended mid-air before falling in a stop-motion wave.
“Kill her!” Beylor called again, true fear in his voice. Not that his men weren’t trying, but the swordswoman was cutting a bloody path through the surrounding warriors.
Lian’s attention was on the chaos in the ring. Nalah took her eyes off the fighting down below and returned her concentration to the cuff on her wrist. The magic was fighting her, though whether it was because it was placed by an innate or because of the blackout zone, she didn’t know.
There! The click, the wash of acceptance, the signal she’d broken the magic enough that it would abide her wishes.
Lian turned away from the ring and grabbed her upper arm, but before he could do anything else, another figure fell from the sky. This one landed on the upper stands. It was a female with long black hair streaming behind her, a bow in her hands.
One of the guards attacked the female, but her foot connecting with the side of his head knocked him out, and without pause she twisted and grabbed at her back, bringing the bow up and loading it with the arrow she retrieved. Aiming at the ring, she shot arrows in a quick succession Nalah could not follow, taking out guards in the lower stands.
The black-haired woman scanned the crowd, pausing when her eyes found Nalah. She jumped down to Nalah’s level, landing on a bar that couldn’t be more than three inches wide, and the agility combined with the inhuman speed had to mean this woman was an elf.
Please be Guild. While Lian was distracted watching the archer, Nalah clasped the gold cuff around the wrist of the hand that was holding her.
His grip loosened as he glanced away from the chaos and toward her, and with that opening, Nalah pushed him over the railing. The split-second look of surprise that crossed his features as he fell over was almost comical, and then he was gone from sight, the magical thread snapping as he disappeared.
The elf appeared then before her, and a faint memory of this woman seen from a distance at Fallon’s side rose up and replaced Lian’s face at the front of her thoughts. “Aislynn?”
“Yes. The Realm Jumper?”
Nalah pointed toward the now empty box that once housed Beylor and Tiffany. “The woman is blonde and with Beylor. She has no idea what she has outside of a pretty ring. But there’s someone else, a woman with long silvery hair, she’s gone too-”
Aislynn’s hand shot out and grabbed Nalah’s upper shoulder in a near painful grasp, restrained panic clear on her face. “Silvery hair, past her waist, pure black eyes and beautiful like a doll?”
“Yes, that’s-”
Aislynn didn’t wait but turned and hauled ass towards the box’s exit. Nalah followed, running as fast as she could, which was nowhere near what the elf was capable of. The only reason Nalah could keep the elf in sight was because Aislynn had to dispose of the guards who finally figured out there was an enemy here. She used her bow as a melee weapon, parrying the edged weapons the men carried and striking out with it, spinning the instrument to fight the guards as they crossed her path.
They neared the box, and from a small hidden hallway came the echo of her mother’s ring. “Aislynn, down that path,” Nalah called, and pointed the way when the elf turned to look at her.
Aislynn swerved, and now there were no guards, but this time the elf couldn’t outrun her because barely two dozen steps into the hallway were two bodies lying in the middle of the hallway.
Beylor and Tiffany, both recognizable despite the multitude of claw marks on their bodies and the chunks of flesh torn from their exposed torsos, expressions of horror still detailed on their faces. This wasn’t a quick kill – someone took time slicing them both up. Bile rose in Nalah’s throat, a thick lining she swallowed hard against as she stepped back and averted her eyes to the elf. Aislynn had no expression and didn’t appear to be fighting the nausea like Nalah was. Aislynn’s eyes wandered over the bodies before her gaze met Nalah’s. “Is this the woman who had the Realm Jumper?”
“Yes.”
“Her hands are bare. The ring was taken.” The corridor branched off into five possible routes of escape, and Aislynn gave a quick glance around each exit. “I see no obvious sign of which path was taken. I need you to find the ring.”
Tiffany hadn’t been a friend in the strictest sense, and she’d made her choice when she’d taken up with Beylor, but the good-hearted blonde hadn’t deserved this. Nalah had seen the aftermath of death, but not this type of desecration. Magic infused the corpses. There was an echo of joy attached to the bodies, pleasure in the pain and fear they’d experienced, even a shade of disappointment it hadn’t lasted longer – sick joy that was burrowing into her, becoming part of her, past the feeble defenses that were losing ground by the second. The bile thickened, and Nalah pressed her hand hard against her mouth.
Cool, smooth skin stroked over her brow. “Nalah.” The voice was understanding, with warmth, and love for life, all things opposite of the magic surrounding her represented. “The ring is heritage from your mother, a link to her goodness and love for you. Fight now, and protect it.”
The weight of Aislynn’s words penetrated, dissipating the evil, and Nalah breathed deep, blanking her emotions. She pushed her power out, searched the myriad of corridors the killers may have used, keeping all attention away from the bodies. “Down the farthest right.”
They took off, but not ten more steps Nalah grabbed at Aislynn and pulled her back, hard enough that despite her superior strength, the elf stopped and turned in confusion. If only Aislynn could see, she would understand. Magic shifted in impos
sible ways, swirled through the air in violent streaks past her, a shredding of barriers that existed for very good reasons. “Aislynn – something’s wrong.”
Chapter Seventeen
‡
Aislynn made to bring up her bow, but Nalah didn’t let go of her arm. “Shouldn’t we wait for Fallon?” Even this evil didn’t blot out Tenro’s signature, a hard burn bursting against her and making Nalah’s skin tingle, and no offense to the skilled elf archer, but nothing in Aislynn compared.
“I would love to, but there is no time. I carry nothing that can contact Fallon through the blackout zone and inform her of where we are, and as this development was not one we prepared for, I do not know when she will arrive.” With that, Aislynn disentangled herself. If the archer felt any fear, it wasn’t evident in her sure stride or steady hands. She went forward, keeping Nalah behind her and protected.
Whatever door once was now lay in ruined shards on the ground, letting the late afternoon light filter in. Aislynn tilted her head, and twenty-to-one odds the elf was doing it to listen for any traps before they stepped into the sun.
Either she didn’t hear anything or she decided to chance it, because Aislynn pushed forward, slow and deliberate.
An unearthly giggle, and Aislynn’s arrow flew toward a cluster of treetops. Rustling started at one end of the long line of trees and then moved, shaking branches straight down to the other end.
Then both giggle and movement stopped.
Another arrow in Aislynn’s bow, and though the elf’s head moved in small motions back-and-forth, her arms were locked in position. “Where do we go now?”
Nalah extended her senses. The other magic pounced as if it had been waiting for her, dominating her own meager powers as it began stripping her of her protections.
“Nalah, the ring?”
Ring, ring, what about a ring? There was no ring, there was, there was…there was dark, putrid magic, so cloying it clogged her senses and blocked even Tenro.
Entwined Realms Volume One Page 41