Kiegan and a bunch of other new recruits stood waiting, away from the clans with their fluttering banners. They looked dwarfed by the immensity of the arena.
I started to join them, but Fieran stopped me. “I’ll be waiting after,” he said, as if his presence should mean something to me. “And we have a healer ready, so you only have to endure?—”
I walked away before he could finish.
I wondered if I was the only shifter so squirmy about fighting for the entertainment of the crowds. Would they keep a close eye on us tomake sure no one ran? Or was the possibility of being branded a coward—coupled with the vague magical threats—enough to push every dragon-marked into the arena?
“There you are,” Kiegan muttered as I came to his side. The stands were filling with Fae and mortals. “Thought you might miss it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. It’s going to be so fun.”
How the hell did I get out of here? We were already being watched so thoroughly. The faces of Clan Bismyth were a blur from here as they took their seats in the nearest stands; their purple flag streamed in the morning breeze.
“Do we have to get beaten half to death so early?” I muttered.
“Is that your plan?” Kiegan frowned down at me. “Sometimes I think you’re a pessimist.”
The roar of the crowd rolled over us like a tide. A drowning tide.
There were speeches I didn’t listen to, about courage and honor and proving we were worthy of our dragons. How the hell was I going to escape?
“Recruits are randomly assigned to enter through the gates,” the announcer explained.
I shielded my eyes with my hand, trying to get a good look at the enormous mirrors despite being at the wrong angle. Images of the different entrances to the arena flashed across them. He was droning on about how the arena would have shifted to something we’d never seen before, new terrain that left us all on equal footing, but I didn’t care anymore.
I’d have my chance.
We were summoned then by guards that called our names. They each gathered half a dozen of us and walked with us across the arena.
There were five of us who were led into one cool hallway. The floor was covered in hay, and there was a strange animal scent in here, reminding me that we were in a glorified stall for the monsters. It made me uneasy. Maybe I would come out at the other end of the hall in that miserable sea of cages.
But at least I wouldn’t be trapped in a cage of my own, forever bound to this place—and to Fieran, and to my clan.
I was doing the right thing.
The ground rumbled under our boots, an unsettling feeling, as the arena re-arranged itself unseen.
I edged toward the end of the line, pretending a calm I didn’t feel. The air around us buzzed with the tension of bodies shifting, whispering, waiting.
The recruits beside me kept sneaking looks, their eyes glinting with calculation. I could practically feel them rearranging their odds with such an easy victory at their sides.
The gates opened. The recruits headed swiftly out, letting out battle cries that seemed a bit too enthusiastic for those about to bleed.
I turned and walked briskly—purposefully—in theotherdirection.
“Hey!” someone shouted behind me.
I didn’t look back.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed!” a girl’s voice called again, sharp with disbelief.
Well, that was thoughtful of her.
I lifted a hand in vague acknowledgment, though whether it was a wave or a rude gesture was anyone’s guess.
The noise of the fighting rose behind me. The stands above thundered with approval, voices chanting names that weren’t mine.
Good. I intended to keep it that way.
