by Alia Johnson
Delicious. I will have a taste one day. Vashti shook her head. Why would that thought come through her mind?
Calling for the anger boiling inside her, giving it an outlet before it burned her alive, Vashti pushed her arm away from her body to hold it outstretched, so she didn’t catch her entire cape on fire. Her cloak wasn’t like the garment from the Incendie. The cloak she was wearing could catch fire, and she would be standing naked in front of the entire stadium. Her head would be rolling along with Serena’s.
It was one thing to be sneaky. Another to be hateful about it.
Vashti coaxed the fire to ignite in her hand, but both arms began to blaze, her anger was so great. The flames were bright in its beauty, causing her eyes to glow with their inner light. The flaming appendage caused the Horde to sit up in attention. Shock coursed through the audience. Even the Generals glanced to each other and kept their hands on their swords in preparation.
The ice melted and the two swords fell to the arena, unfrozen from her grip. The sleeves disintegrated to show Vashti’s pale arms, burnt away, but at least her body was covered.
An arm or two wasn't going to incite an army of lust from a stadium of demons.
The whip she pulled from her belt instantly ignited with flames when she wrapped her hand around it. The long rope curled to the ground, and she lashed it menacingly to the side, eyeing her target.
The other hand she held out to the other side, growing an ice spear as she had done as a child with her sister, Odesha. The sisters were half-vampire half-demon born with varying ice magic. Odesha’s ice had almost destroyed her, but Vashti had been given the gift of fire.
And her temper had just been unleashed.
“Would you like to freeze, or would you like to burn? I will at least give you a choice!” Vashti yelled out to Ina, igniting the crowd again with roars of approval. “No, I’ve decided. You will experience both.”
Vashti lashed her whip, wrapping it around Ina. The flames tightened. Steam rose. Ina tried to battle the flames by freezing the whip. It continued to reignite.
Vashti reached out her hand as the fire spread across the stadium’s hard floor, licking toward her cloak.
Ina screamed in terror when she realized there was no way to escape. Vashti took pity on the mean creature. Ina had learned a hard lesson this day. Throwing the small ice spear to the ground, she caught the edge of Ina's cloak to pin her to the ground, released her whip, and held out her free hands when the whip fell away. The ice engulfed Ina, freezing her in a silent scream. Turning her hands to the side, Vashti cooled the flames on the stadium floor. A blanket of cold settled the angry fire, her cold breath puffing from her lips. Ina would live through this if the guardians melted her fast enough.
Baklan would decide her fate this day.
The stomping and roars from the crowd shook the very rock they sat on as they chanted for Vashti, repeatedly screaming, “Golden eyes! Golden eyes! Golden eyes!”
Vashti walked toward King Magnamar, curtsying deeply. Turning around, she refused to look up at him again, to walk back to her room with her back straight and head held high in victory.
Let’s play a game, shall we, King? Who shall break first?
Vashti did love games. She just wasn’t sure why she wanted to play with a monstrous Horde King.
Chapter 8
Cassira embraced Vashti when she entered the hallway and clucked over her ruined sleeves. They had to rush back to the room to replace it since the fabric smelled burnt and was ruined. The odor didn't bother Vashti, but several people they passed in the hall held their nose.
“The guardians are announcing what the second trial is now, Vashti. Medorah waits for us in the stadium already.”
They hurried back to the arena; the stands now clear of the Horde. The slimmer number of women stood shoulder to shoulder. Cassira rushed to the erected dais. She was so excited her charges had both made it, she could hardly keep still. Vashti walked up to stand next to Medorah, bumping her gently with a hip.
Medorah’s tail flicked in excitement from underneath her cloak, startling Vashti. Vashti may or may not have squeaked, she wasn't sure, but she stiffened her back to show she wasn’t affected.
“Welcome, victors of Baklan’s first trial! The second trial of sorcery will begin tomorrow. You will still stay in your cloak and mask. If I may, I would like to remind you of this morning’s tragedy. I would not like it to be any of you tomorrow. The rules of tomorrow are as followed. You must demonstrate an element of magic, sorcery, or talent. It must be something exciting to show your wit and wisdom, to show your worth to the Horde. The elders will be present for the judgment. If you do not meet their approval, you are unable to move forward. Oh, the last requirement. You can’t use any type of magic or sorcery that you used today. May the trials find the ones we seek.”
Vashti groaned, rubbing her temples. Sighing, she realized she had used both of her magics at the first trial and would have to come up with something new to make it through the next competition.
I know what I must do. It's my only option now. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
When they returned to their room, Vashti asked Medorah, “Have you a trick they would like tomorrow?” Sitting on the bed, she rubbed her neck, sore from the heaviness of the ice jerking her forward.
Medorah flicked her wrist again, a tic Vashti noticed she loved to do. It was apparent Medorah had been accustomed to giving orders frequently in the Pit.
“I have many tricks. You?”
“One that I wished to keep, but now must use.”
“You must get through this trial to reach the Forest and save your sister still, right?” Medorah removed her cloak, starting to work on the ties of her armor hidden underneath.
“I think, maybe, I’m considering… staying.” Shaking her head, Vashti hurried to add, “My brother will find Saphira soon. They have a very close bond. I think my path has taken me here. I feel… different here. Wanted. Accepted. My twin sister is happy with her new husband. My father loves his drinking and parties. Maybe I would like to think about what I want instead of being told what to do.” If that was selfish, so be it. She wanted to choose her own path. Torture had a way of bringing that out in someone.
Medorah blinked her slitted eyes. “That is a lot of maybes.”
Vashti became defensive, arguing, “That’s because I’m still thinking about it. I haven’t even spoken to King Magnamar! Just thrown a kiss to the monster.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “And who in their right mind would want a monster for a mate? He may want to eat me, not fuck me. My mother died without her fire, her true mate. He promised her much and turned out to be an evil man, and she killed herself over the betrayal. I don’t want to be her. I want to be more than that to a man.”
Medorah patted her arm awkwardly. “Then don’t. Grab your monster by the horns. And never let go.”
Medorah hissed loudly, stopping Vashti from replying. Medorah tilted her head curiously at the walls. Vashti opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, when Medorah flicked her wrist, silencing her unspoken question. Medorah stood to her full height and looked at the top of the room, while her fingers gently moved in the cracks of the wall. She grasped something, pulling it free from its hiding spot, bringing it closer to show Vashti. The snake pulled from the wall made Vashti almost fall off the bed as she tried to move away.
“Is that poisonous?” Vashti inquired with a loud gulp.
Medorah hissed with laughter. “No. It is male. Males are born nonpoisonous in the Forest. It is a rare oddity.” She finished with an odd wink of her slitted eye. “But Baklan doesn’t have to know our secret.”
Vashti looked up to the hiding spot of the little snake and pointed. “How did it get up there, I wonder?”
The snake slithered through Medorah’s fingers. It had decided to wind up her neck, hissing the entire way, making Vashti wince slightly.
I really need to get used to this since I’m surrounded by s
nakes.
“This snake whispers stories of hidden passages within the walls of Baklan. It is warm inside the volcano, that’s why it is here.”
Feeling intrigued by the news of hidden passageways, Vashti nonchalantly asked, “And would said passageways be accessible from our room?” Rubbing her hands, she would love to find more secrets in the walls.
Medorah looked sideways at Vashti, sighing in exasperation as she responded, “Yes, but do you want our heads removed for being out of this room?”
“As long as we keep our cloaks and masks on, they won’t get mad. And it’s “hidden” so I assume not a lot of demons will know where to find us. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Great Freyja, she sounded just like Saphira now. The memory of her sister made her want to explore even more to take her mind away from what could be happening to her while she was stuck in the competition. There was so much that could go wrong before then.
They could use this as another means of escape if the trials didn’t work out. The unspoken thought raced through both of their minds.
“Fine,” hissed Medorah, looking around the room for the hidden mechanism the snake had mentioned to her.
Vashti bounded behind her, throwing her arms up in a silent celebration. Medorah and the snake hissed back and forth, communicating how to enter the passage. A stray rock on the wall in front of them beside their beds moved forward with a push of a finger to open a doorway. The two women looked at each other in triumph. The snake slithered from Medorah’s neck to the opening in the rocks, returning to the hidden spot he preferred.
“You go explore, Vashti. I will give an excuse if someone comes to check on us.”
Vashti nodded, eyeing the darkness and lit the tip of her pinky finger like a candle to be able to see through, whispering, “Wish me luck.”
Medorah replied sagely, “Good luck.”
Vashti plunged through the darkness at a slow pace, the warm walls leaking with water. The scent of sulfur was stronger the farther she walked. The cracks in the wall were too interesting to pass up. She had to look through each one to make sure she wasn’t missing anything that could be important.
I feel like a regular voyeur.
Other competitors lounged in their own rooms in the first several cracks she looked in. Vashti tried mapping the area in her mind, thinking she was coming close to the kitchens at the end of the hallway where the competitors ate.
Looking about, she saw a large crack in the wall high up. She climbed several rocks, looking through the fissure.
A few guardians milled about cooking and preparing a variety of things to eat in the kitchens. Vashti was about to hop down from her perch, uninterested in the bland gossip, when a loud voice yelled out, “This is what I’m talking about, General. This is mundane work not fit for me. I thought you would handle this soon?”
The low voice ordered, “Lower your voice, Uruti. You know everything travels here. My army will soon march on Magnamar ending any future he may have. He is only concerned about the volcano now.”
Vashti tilted her head, squinting to see the angry guardian and the winged General conversing in the corner. Any talk of Magnamar was interesting to her. She decided to keep listening. The other guardians kept at their work, ignoring the two arguing like they were used to it.
“You want the snake-woman, admit it. I saw you watching her.” Uruti sneered.
The winged General grabbed her arms, giving her a slight shake. “The snake woman is none of your concern.” He turned Uruti slightly, giving Vashti a view of the side of his face.
General Gorius.
Slapping a hand over her mouth, Vashti held back her shock, keeping her increased breathing from being heard.
The general continued, “Be ready at the Hunt. We will be waiting on the path. Drive them all there, and my army will take them.”
The bald woman nodded her head angrily, wrenching her arms free of his hold, as the General left the kitchens through a back door. Turning her nose up, Uruti turned to speak to a guardian at the stove.
Vashti gently stepped down the hidden view to not disturb the rocks and give away her position, her heart beating out of her chest.
They meant to kill everyone competing at Baklan, taking out a large portion of the army in the process. The King would be drawn out to defend his home, making him a target.
She wasn’t sure what to do with all this information. Medorah was going to be heartbroken if she revealed the truth of Gorius’s betrayal, risking her concentration during the trials to come.
Vashti glanced around, trying to figure out where to go next. A forked path lay in front of her.
Hellfire.
Vashti hadn’t marked which way she had come from not expecting so many different paths. Lifting a finger, she burned an arrow into the wall, showing her which way to go when she returned. Walking down the long dark hall, the heat became stifling when she reached the end of the hallway she'd chosen.
Steam pouring through a crack in the stone wall beckoned her to come closer. She inched forward peeking through.
The first thing she noticed was the large hot springs gracing the notched area.
Caves were dug around the circular room showcasing the enormous amount of passages Baklan owned. Vashti had to tilt her head to see them all. It looked like a giant beehive teeming with life. Purple and red rock clashed together on the walls, giving the room a beautiful glow that she hadn’t seen in the volcano yet. Demon men and various species of women walked around, mostly in pairs, strolling about the carved pathways like a normal city. It was the occasional child that walked with them that pulled her attention. They ran with laughter and played games together with delight.
These halls must be the homes of the mated couples, separated from the guardians and the Baklan competitors.
Under the paths of the family rooms and market, the hot springs gurgled and belched releasing the sulfur smell. Armored demons clashed with swords, dodging the sprays hot water and swords swinging toward them. The flap of a wing drew her eye.
Gorius moved in her range of vision, brandishing his purple sword and a smirk at his oncoming rival. Vashti admired the craft of the weapon and the pretty scrollwork on the side.
The weapon is too fine for a traitor to wield.
Another belch of the hot spring caused her to look away from the glistening sword, the crowd standing awkwardly around a being sitting loosely on a bench.
King Magnamar.
He sat watching the competitors clash, his eyes never leaving the battle. By analyzing them, he was finding weaknesses in his army from his perch.
The Generals that guarded him nearby looked like younglings standing tall next to him, his girth so large when sitting. His claws stood out prominently against his legs, tapping the same rhythm as during the match Vashti had fought.
Gorius yelled out, announcing his victory against his competitor, holding the sword at the man’s side in a warning he could have struck him. The King stood, armor gleaming, drawing his people’s attention. His presence commanded them to look, pulling them in — a true Horde King.
Hair braided, Magnamar reached to his side, pulling out a large silver broadsword the size of Vashti, wielding it easily with a flick of a wrist. A guardian rushed out of a passage to hand Gorius a large cup to drink from before the next match began. Magnamar’s spiked armor gleamed as he moved in the circle with Gorius. The beehive above seemed to hush as people stopped to watch the spectacle below them, interested in the two leaders about to clash. Standing side by side, Vashti could see there was a difference between the two. Besides being larger, Magnamar had the pointed areas on his cheeks, chin, and ears. Gorius looked like a normal demon, similar to her own brother. The lead General’s curly hair and bright eyes would entice many women here; the King would cause them to run away in fear.
Gorius bowed low to the Horde King ready for his challenge.
Magnamar watched impassively; his expression conveying no emotion. He stopped walking
forward, stabbing his sword deep into the ground and held out his roughly spiked hands outward in wait.
Gorius abruptly charged the King with his sword, making Vashti let out a small gasp on accident. Hoping her gasp had been hidden with the collective gasp from the Horde of the beehive, she realized she may have been caught when Magnamar stiffened, tilting his head to the side of the wall she hid behind. His eyes narrowed, searching the walls fleetingly, while the sword came whistling toward his head. Wanting to yell out to move, to dodge, to run, anything for that sword to not hit true, her gut twisted with a fear she hadn’t felt in years.
And she didn’t like it.
Magnamar moved quickly, bringing an armored gauntlet to deflect the blow to the side like it was child's play. Gorius kept attacking with his sword, while Magnamar danced around the coming strikes, never truly being hit or giving in. Now she could see why they had made this man the Horde King.
He was the strongest, the largest. Yes, that was easy to see, but he was also cunning and quick.
Unbeatable.
Magnamar lashed out a wing to knock Gorius to the ground. Picking his sword up in a run, he buried the sharp blade beside the gasping head of his opponent. Gorius flinched away from the crumbling rock beside him, watching to see what the Horde King would do next.
The King’s cavernous voice rumbled, “Use your strengths. You have feet and wings, strike with them all, not just your sword.”
Gorius stood gracefully with a flap of wings, bowing his head to the ruler. “Many thanks, Horde King.”
The curls flopped adorably on his head, making Vashti smile vanish. He is deceptively easy going and meek compared to what I saw in the kitchens. Running a hand through the thick curls, trying to tame them, Gorius followed his leader to the bench to watch the next competition.
The beehive resumed its activity, the tension in the room diminished. Vashti let out a breath, having escaped being discovered, but she began to fidget when a sudden urge hit her.