“Fight me. I want to see what else the woman capable of extinguishing the Flame of Yargen can do.” His challenge was a low growl, accented with a grin.
He might have intended it to be playful, but the statement struck a nerve that was still too tender for Eira to think rationally through. “I did not!”
She swung with her left hand, summoning a sword of her own. Olivin smiled smugly.
“Juth calt.” The sword shattered in Eira’s hand.
The draconi were upon them. One slammed into Olivin, the other into her. Eira tumbled with the heavier woman head over heels. The draconi came out on top; she reared back, claws extending from her fingers that she plunged down to Eira’s chest.
Eira pushed all her magic into her icy breastplate. If she didn’t, those claws would punch right through and into her chest. The draconi’s claws ricocheted off but Eira didn’t have a chance to recover. The woman reared back again and struck right. Then left. The draconi was determined to cut through Eira’s ice with her claws and she didn’t care about what happened to Eira in the process.
I have to move, Eira thought. Every assault of the draconi’s claws dug deeper than the last. It was taking more and more power to continue fending her off, as if each strike carried its own magic. All Eira’s focus was on keeping her pennon shielded.
A claw raked against her cheek. Eira let out a sharp cry of surprise and pain. She could feel blood dribbling back to her ear.
I have to move!Eira drew all her magic from the depths of the channel it flowed from.
Out of nowhere, a gust of wind pummeled the draconi competitor, launching her off Eira and sending her tumbling across the arena. Eira’s gaze swung from where her attacker had landed to the source of the blast: Cullen. He was still perched on one of the posts and gave her a nod before dodging a large bird of prey—a morphi, Eira suspected—that dove with its talons out for his pennon.
She didn’t have time to spare more than a look his way. The draconi was recovering. Eira took quick stock of the arena. Olivin was the only elfin still in play and the draconi seemed to be focused on taking him out. One other draconi had gone to tangle with the Republic of Qwint, one morphi with them. Another morphi was engaging Noelle.
It seemed Solaris was the only nation that still had all four champions in the game. The rest of the competitors were pulled off to the side, sitting on benches underneath the portcullis that led back to the village. She saw the other male elfin that had been fighting with the draconi being helped by one of the attendants past the benches. His leg was badly mangled and it didn’t look like he could put weight on it. Blood streamed from the young man’s chest.
That’s when she sawhim.
Another attendant came forward. He wore the same clothes as all the others. His dark hair was pulled underneath a tightlyfitting cap. But his eyes were a bright blue, as deep as the ocean and just as dangerous.
Ulvarth.
Her stomach fell out. The air in the arena became thin and she inhaled sharply. He was here. What was he doing here and out in the open?
Ulvarth smiled, briefly. Just for her. Before he began helping the elfin competitor into the shade of the portcullis.
“No, it’s not safe,” she said, her voice lost underneath the combat still raging around her. She had to go. Eira looked over her shoulder. Cullen had the upper hand on the bird. No one had even managed to launch enough of a coordinated assault to scratch Alyss’s shell. They would be fine without her.
But would they forgive her if she pulled off her pennon? They would understand this was far more important. They had to.
Eira began to relax the magic that thickened her breastplate; she searched for her nearest friend to try and let them know what she was about to do. Right as she did, the draconi she’d lost track of tackled her again.
“I have you now!” she snarled over Eira. The draconi reared back; she was going to use the same tactic of a relentless parade of blows.
A terrible idea passed through Eira’s mind and she acted on it before she could think of a better one.
The draconi brought her hand down, striking at Eira’s frozen breastplate. She took off chunks of ice with a roar of victory. The crowd began to chant and cheer the draconi’s name: “Kotol, Kotol, Kotol!”
They all wanted her to lose, Eira realized. She’d give them what they wanted.
Bracing herself, Eira weakened her magic further as her opposition struck again. The claws sheared through ice andflesh. Eira let out an involuntary scream of pain as her pennon was viciously ripped from her.
“Another!” The draconi held up her bloody hand to thunderous applause. Eira tried to squirm away but the draconi remained perched across her chest. She grinned down, teeth on display. “This is just the start, human. Our kind devoured you once. You’re lucky we’re not very hungry today.”
Attendants ran over and the woman reluctantly stood. They helped Eira to the side of the ring, assisting her out of the fray. Eira held her hand over the wound. It hurt, but it was only skin deep. She’d pushed ice underneath her flesh to prevent anything too detrimental. She’d be fine. Most importantly, she could still fight.
“How do you feel?” an attendant asked. Not Ulvarth.
“Do you have a medic?” Eira winced for good measure. “I think I should see someone trained.”
“Yes, of course, this way.” They led her under the portcullis the same way she’d seen the other elfin taken. Eira glanced over her shoulder, trying to catch one of her friends’ eyes, but they were all preoccupied. For now, she was alone.
