Continuing my scan, I find Koda standing alone on a platform on my right. He’s dressed in armor this time, navy-blue plates fitted across his shoulders, chest, and thighs while the clothing beneath is black. He carries an array of daggers in a harness across his chest.
But where is Arga?
I scan the empty platform on my left, narrowing my eyes when he doesn’t appear to be here yet, despite the darkening sky.
A drumbeat sounds, booming across the space around us, the drummers located in the lower stands.
The crowd falls silent.
Crone appears on the platform in front of Carys’s chamber on the other side of the arena. Crone is so small that I wouldn’t be able to see much of her except that a projection beams her image across the arena, larger than life. She’s dressed in a ruby-red gown that pools around her feet and makes her porcelain face appear even more deathly pale.
Her voice roars across the silence. “We have reached the final Elimination!”
The crowd erupts into cheers, a blast of sound, which only ends when the drummers beat their instruments again.
“Three remain, but only one power may rule. The contenders must fight until one power remains,” Crone says, turning slowly from side to side. “Who will rule Pyra-Mortem?”
She turns to Koda first, practically spitting with derision. “Will it be Koda, fourth son of Jareth, the weakling child?”
Koda doesn’t react to her taunt and her gaze turns quickly to me, her dark eyes boring into me.
“Or will it be Nova, third daughter of Jareth, the half-demon abomination?”
She pauses, like she did for Koda, as if she expects a response from me, but I don’t give it to her, ignoring the momentary hush in the crowd.
Turning away from me, Crone breaks out into a smile as she faces the empty podium on my left, her voice lifting, her arms rising. “Or will it be Arga, first child of Jareth, wielder of pain, the strongest of Jareth’s offspring?”
As she speaks, Arga steps up onto the platform and the crowd’s roaring swells to a new height, thousands of voices screaming Arga’s name.
He’s dressed in wine-red armor that matches the color of his hair and, like Koda, he carries daggers across his chest, but it’s the animal at his side that stops my breath.
A demon wolf with eyes as ruby-red as Crone’s dress snarls and gnashes its teeth, its claws raking across the platform, its muscles bunched, saliva dripping from its mouth. It stands as high as Arga’s waist—as high as Ace stands.
Arga controls it by a leash wrapped tightly around its neck, the other end twined around Arga’s palm, his fist closed over it. I remember when we first arrived on the bridge and Arga declared that my demon wolves were royal hounds and should be taken to the royal kennels. Reaper told me that there weren’t many demon wolves now, but I shouldn’t have discounted the possibility that Arga controls any number of those that remain.
It’s not clear to me yet if this demon wolf is being used for show, or if Arga intends to bring it to the fight. Koda doesn’t have a wolf at his side, but then, he has always been on the outside with none of the advantages.
“This is a battle of strength and power!” Crone calls, quieting the crowd again. “Each contender may bring one of Mortem’s beasts to the fight if they wish.”
Each of my demon wolves surges forward, but Ace is the fastest, snapping at the others, even at Temple, forcing them to back off before he prowls to my side.
“No… Ace…” I reach for him. “You can’t come into this fight with me. I won’t risk your life.”
His answering snarl is as aggressive as the ruby-eyed wolf’s body language as it strains against its leash. Ignoring the murmuring crowd, I bend to Ace, crouching so that I’m at eye level with him. I don’t try to touch him again as he faces me, his violet eyes burning, because I know he won’t tolerate it, but I turn my palm upward on my bent knee, calling on him to recognize our bond.
“Ace,” I say with the full force of my alpha nature. “Step back.”
He gives me a soft growl that’s difficult to hear over the crowd, but I feel the ripples of his power through my heart and the bond we have as a pack.
He won’t budge.
I’m forced to accept that I won’t dissuade him. He was born to bring nightmares to demons and today, it seems, he’s determined to carry out his birthright.
I return to my feet with Ace beside me.
Crone waits a beat to see if Koda produces a beast of his own, but the cobalt-haired demon only glares back at her.
With a snide smile, Crone lifts her arms again. “The Elimination ends when one power remains.”
