“Arvelle! Move!” A feminine voice cuts through my memories.
My heart stops. Kassia?
But it’s Maeva leaning over the edge of the stadium. I catch a single glimpse of her, eyes wide, mouth open …
And then I’m stumbling, squatting,screamingas Maximus’s sword sweeps past my shield and cuts into my unprotected back.
Pain erupts, blood rolls down my spine, and I let out a choked cry. I don’t know how deep the wound is, but I make it to my feet.
My ankle screams at me. I came down on it awkwardly, and now I’m in deep shit.
Maximus stalks toward me. “Give up.” His voice is low, almost kind. “You shouldn’t be here. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it. Throw down your sword, bow to the emperor, and you’ll go home. I won’t kill you.”
Gods, I wish I could. My home flashes through my mind, my brothers’ faces at the table that last morning. But it’s not home now. Because they’re no longer there.
“I can’t.”
He shakes his head. “So be it.”
“Arvelle!” Leon roars from the edge of the arena. And this time I know I’m not imagining him. “Think!”
Think.
My mind races, and I take a step back, limping.
Maximus’s eyes flick down to my ankle, and he holds his shield higher.
That’s his tell. The moment he raises his shield, he attacks. But this time, I’m ready for him.
My back is wet with blood. I lift my shield, pain exploding down my back and up my shoulders.
Panting through it, I dodge Maximus’s strike. And his next.
He’s panting, too, sweat dripping down his face. The next time I dodge, I let out a tiny, pained yelp. His eyes narrow, and I bite down on my lip, pretending to attempt to disguise my limp with a quick pivot.
He leaps at me in an explosion of strikes. I dodge, even slower than before, waiting for my chance.
Because I know something Maximus seems to have forgotten. Something Leon taught me all those years ago. Something he just brought sharply back into focus.
When people exploit your weaknesses … when they throw them in your face to make you squirm …
You can exploit those weaknesses too. You can turn those weaknesses into strength.
Triumph flashes in Maximus’s eyes as he charges, bringing his sword down in what would likely be a fatal blow.
My pulse thunders in my ears and I wait until the last second to dodge.
Maximus knows I’m hurt.
So he’s not expecting me to be able to launch off my bad ankle with newfound power and fury. He’s not expecting me to shove my blade into his thigh, ripping it free as he screams. And he’s not expecting me to nimbly dart behind him as he falls to his knees.
My blade kisses Maximus’s throat, and he goes very, very still.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ihold Maximus’s life in my hands.
If I wanted to, I could slice my blade across his throat and leave him bleeding out, just a few feet from the spot where Kassia died.
