And with that, the negotiation ended. I kept glaring in case he said something else, but the cell remained silent and eventually I had to rest. How long I spent there, shivering on the cold, hard crystal of my cell, I couldn’t tell. The constant dim lighting gave me no clues. There was no clock to watch, and they’d stripped me of everything, including my comm.
The walls and floor were all hard crystal with nothing to soften them. Getting comfortable was impossible, and I wondered if hypothermia would rob the Collectors of their arena show. I curled into a ball, hugging my knees and conserving heat as much as possible, but my muscles started screaming at me in short order.
At least I’m protecting Varok,I told myself.He’d better be taking advantage of that.
The thought of losing him was worse than any physical pain, like an ice dagger in my heart. It hardly seemed possible that I’d never see him again, never feel his fierce grip, his firm, full lips on mine. I’d even miss our stupid arguments, and the way he jumped head-first into problems without a plan.
My eyes stung, and my body shook.Just the cold,I lied to myself.
At last,the cell door slid open with an ostentatiouswhoosh,drawing my attention back from my half-slumber. Beyond, I heard the shouts and chants of the crowd, but the doorway stood empty. A brief spark of hope flared in my heart before I ruthlessly crushed it. This wasn’t a rescue. It was my execution.
For a moment, I considered staying in the cell. Why should I collaborate in my own death? But resisting seemed pointless. At best, I’d buy myself another few minutes of freezing discomfort before someone dragged me out to die. At worst, they might just wait for me to leave or starve.
So I straightened up, stretched to relieve my stiff and aching muscles, and left the cell, doing my best to move with poise and confidence. Fortunately for me, no one was watching, at least not in person. A bare corridor led me to another chamber, its walls decorated with sculptures of alien warriors. Across from me, a massive set of double doors led out to the arena, and flanking the doors were a beautiful pair of matching tables, carved from some ancient alien wood. Antiques no longer up to the Collectors’ standards? The table to my left held a wide variety of weapons. Any weapon I could ask for, provided I didn’task for anything more advanced than a sword. To my right, a table laden with armor.
“I have no idea how to use any of these,” I protested aloud. No response was forthcoming.
Swallowing my anger, I lifted one weapon after another, searching in vain for something I’d be able to use effectively. A pair of daggers, fast and deadly? If I got that close to a monster, I’d already be dead. A long, curved sword? I could barely lift it, let alone wield it.
In the end, I chose a spear, on the theory that it’d keep the fight as far from me as possible. In case it didn’t, I picked up a short, wickedly sharp sword. I knew the theory from a thousand documentaries—the spear to keep my foes at a distance, the sword in case they got past it. That had served human armies from China to Rome for millennia.
Practice, of course, was something else entirely. I’d never held either weapon, let alone trained with them. A few practice swings of the sword left me wincing at the weight. I doubted I’d even be able to hold the damned thing for long, but it was better than facing my death unarmed.At least it gives me a chance to fight back.
I turned my attention to the armor, which was even less promising. It wasn’t useless—the hyperceramic plate would stop a bullet or spread the impact of a blaster bolt. Would it hold up against the crystal claws of the Collectors’ pets? I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. None of the outfits on offer covered enough of me to keep me safe.
“Arena armor is always about showing off the gladiators rather than protecting them,” I reminded myself as I picked through them, settling on the armor least likely to get in my way. “It’s better than nothing. Probably.”
24
VAROK
My breath caught as I watched my beloved Penny stride out onto the lilac sands of the arena. Her head held high, a long spear in her hand and a small sword belted to her waist, she looked like a proud warrior ready to die for her cause. Even her ridiculous, skimpy armor couldn’t take that dignity from her.
Hyperceramic greaves shielded her legs from ankle to knee, leaving her thighs on display. Ornate articulated armor covered her right arm from the shoulder down, though her left was bare, and her torso armor was a terrible joke. Small plates on her breasts and something like a chain miniskirt did nothing to protect her vital organs.
Worst of all, no helmet. Nothing to stop a vicious monster from crushing her skull. I snarled, every muscle in my body tensing. The Collectors claimed to treasure beauty, but they would let the most perfect female in the universe die for their amusement and for the education of their guests.
As close as we were, we could have been lightyears apart. The forcefield between us kept me from her side, kept me from protecting her. Instead of saving my mate, I would watch her die.
As though she sensed the intensity of my stare, Penny looked up at me and smiled. There was no joy in her expression, but I saw a grim satisfaction. I understood why—she’d saved my life, at the cost of her own.
Driin yelped wordlessly as my glass exploded, showering him with crimson liquid and shards of flying glass. I looked down at my fist, clenched tight on the glass I’d crushed, and forced my fingers to open.
“Apologies,” I said to the proto-Collector, his elegant robes now stained with my drink. “An accident.”
“No, blessed, do not be concerned.” He waved off my apology with a gesture so expansive, it clipped through the forcefield. “She is quite something to look at, I admit. I acquired a taste for human females during the occupation of her homeworld, and while this isn’t my preferred use for one, it promises to be quite a show.”
Taking a deep breath, I made myself ignore his words. Killing him wouldn’t help Penny, and neither would getting distracted by my rage.
A servitor from a species I didn’t recognize appeared at my side to gather the broken glass and wipe up the spill. Another replaced my drink with silent efficiency. And below, the arena flooring opened up, revealing monsters.
The first to emerge stood as tall as a human, though it walked on four legs. Two limbs reached forward, cruel pincers snapping at the air. Long jaws lined with diamond teeth snapped at the air as it turned, letting the audience admire it from all sides. The second floated up from the trapdoor, a blue-glowing gas bag lifting it into the air, a dozen nine-foot tendrils dangling from it and flicking from side to side. A single enormous eye looked down from under the gasbag, locking onto Penny. The whole creature quivered, as though it couldn’t wait to get its tentacles on my beloved.
“These are the youngest Collectors,” my companion told me, validating my decision to let him live. He still had useful intelligence to impart. “We control the bodies remotely, you see. They tell me it’s a hard trick to master, so the least experienced get first go. If she survives them, more experienced Collectors will join the fight.”
“Shouldn’t you be down there, then?” I asked. “You’re the newest member of the Hive, after all.”
He laughed, loud and hard, as though my question was the funniest joke in the Reach. With tears in his eyes, he got control of himself and answered. “Blessed, I wish I could. Tearing that human apart would be enjoyable, but I am yet only a candidate. It will take years to remake myself into a full Collector and master my new abilities. After that, I’ll be able to borrow servitor bodies. For now, I’ll make do with watching—oh! They are beginning.”
