“You’re welcome.” Drammala actually chuckled, the sound unexpected from her rather sweaty and soiled visage. “You know, I’m still not going to go easy on you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Good. But you did well out there. You may not be one of us by birth, but you’re still one of us.”
“Thanks, Drammala. I really do hope we can have a proper chat without all of this madnessafterthe games.”
Drammala’s expression softened a smidge. There was even the hint of a smile, though she squashed that pretty quickly.
“We’ll see,” she replied. “See you around. Come on, Gorrum. I need a shower.”
The duo peeled off as they entered the tunnel and hurried ahead to rinse off the day’s muck and grime.
Everyone veered off to their lodgings as soon as they reached their little enclave, the strain of the day making the sound of a nice hot shower enticing to one and all, Dorrin and Ziana included. Unlike the others, however, they didn’t need to leave their filthy attire at the door. They, at least, were able to walk straight through to the shower without leaving a trail of grime in their wake.
Of course, the auto-cleaning systems would just scrub their footprints if that was the case, but not having to rely on the system to clean up for them was nice. They walked straight into the shower and ditched their clothes, as was habit at this point, the water hitting them at just the right temperature to both wash and refresh them.
“It feels pretty good not having to worry about scrubbing around an injury for a change,” Ziana said with a laugh. Her spirits were light for a change. Like,trulylight. Things had finally gone their way. And more than that, she’d really contributed for a change rather than barely scraping by.
“True words,” Dorrin agreed, his meaty hands rubbing all over his muscular body, his runes faintly illuminating from the contact.
Ziana’s, however, remained dull. No glowing for her. Just a bunch of what she now knew were pretty much useless markings on her body. And yet they had still beaten the elites. Even with her disadvantage. Even with them setting her up for failure.
She almost jumped as his hands ran down her back.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her body flush with surprise but also enjoying the man’s touch.
“You scraped your back,” he replied. “Nothing bad, but you will not be able to reach it. I am merely ensuring it does not become infected. Give me just a moment longer and I’ll be done.”
“Oh, okay,” she replied, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
What was that? she wondered. She didn’t like this guy. He’d been an aloof dick, and just because he had somewhat changed his tune for the day was no reason for that to have shifted. He was rude. Gruff. Demanding. Sure, he was respectful of her, not ogling her when they bathed, but that was just because she was a necessary part of his quest for victory. A quest she had most notably helped with today.
True to his words, his hands slid away from her body a moment later, the abrupt lack of his touch making her skin long for contact. She’d been so long away from home and in a stressful situation that she’d almost forgotten how comforting something so simple could be. Even from this guy.
They dried off and dressed in clean clothes then headed to their kitchen area.
“Tonight will be a feast,” he informed her. “The length of the event—at least, for everyone else—warrants it, as does theculling of the competitors. Less mouths to feed means they will put a little more effort into the meal.”
“But they’ve all been really good.”
He chuckled. “Yes, they have. But there are delights that are reserved for the later rounds. We commoners may not be seen as a real threat for victory, and many don’t enter the games with that hope in their hearts. But there are other perks, and the food is most definitely one of them.”
Ziana was definitely hungry, and truth be told, she rather liked the sound of that.
“Well then,” she said, tugging the cable linking their cuffs, “let’s get to it.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As promised, the feast for the diminished ranks of the competitors was indeed something special, at least for Ziana’s standards. It was quite a spread, though the elites always ate the finest dishes at every meal, their private chefs feeding them at tables set away from the rabble, though they were still required to make an appearance, albeit while keeping to their own group. Mingling with their lessers was simply not even on the table.
But a lot of other delicious and delightful edible itemswereon the table, literally, and Ziana happily sampled every last one of them.
It was a marked shift from the prior nights when she and Dorrin had partaken in the group meal. For one, there were far fewer teams remaining. More than expected had been taken out by the particularly difficult course. From what she could gather, this had been a tough one even by the games’ already stringent standards.
And yet here they were, sitting pretty, the homecoming king and queen, more or less. Beating the other commoners was just a part of the game, and everyone was competitive when it came to that. But to have not only been the first of the lesser players tocomplete the course, but to have also utterly crushed the elites as well? And in such a humiliating manner that it would be talked about for years to come? Competitiveness was put aside just this once, and congratulations were freely given to the victors.
Naturally, the elites were all fuming at the sight of the celebration. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The commoners were supposed to be ground down and eliminated like clockwork, their failures paving the way for a satisfying, albeit predictable, victory for one of the elite teams.
