“Slaith kill you, girl.” He bares his teeth, still ignoring the fact that now I have a knifeanda spear. The yellow and blue wash of magic highlights the beady glint in his eyes.
He lunges forward and I spin under his grasp, slashing across his thigh as I twirl. Another orb explodes, this time red. It obliterates my night vision, and I catch a huge backhand to the ribs, even as I lash across the back of his calf.
The blow sends me staggering.
Ears ringing. Side burning.
Fuck.
Behind me, Kari screams, darting around the fountain.
A fist curls in my loose braid, hauling me backward.
Move. Or Die.
I spin into a flip, kicking backward, desperate to break free before this overfed ogre crushes my bones. Everything hurts. The spear strikes some part of him, and the bastard bellows. I hit the ground hard.
No time to hesitate.
Rolling swiftly, I try to gain distance and the room to assess the fight, still trying to catch my breath.If he hits me again…My fingers curl in a death grip on the spear, but?—
A monstrous shriek rents the air, the piercing cry of something hunting.
And everything stops.
By the fires of Malus, what was that?
A chill falls over us, strangely unnatural. Crouching low, I survey the Labyrinth, every sense heightened.
That wasn’t merely another hunter.
“What in the One-Eyed God’s name?” Rigor blurts.
Shadow falls across us, a shadow formed of enormous black wings, blotting out the moon with the breadth of its size. The long serpentine neck turns this way and that, red light gleaming over thick black scales.
My breath catches as the creature sails past us, backlit by a flash of lightning, before it vanishes into the imposing darkness.
The Beast of Kerawan.
Every inch of me freezes, knuckles locking tight around the spear handle as I stare after the enormous creature. “You son of a bitch.”
Heishere.
In this fucking Labyrinth.
I hadn’t dared hope for it, hadn’t dared believe. But if he’s here, then there’s a chance I can find my sister. Or at least, discover what had happened to Aylin nine years ago, whenshewas the one named tribute.
“The Beast,” says the mage, staring at the sky in horror.
“Ignore him,” hisses the lizard man, limping toward him. “Let’s finish this.”
“Ignore him?” demands Rigor. He must have some kind of fast-paced healing abilities, for that hamstring should have removed him from the game. Throwing down his knife he backsaway. “You know who he is. You know what he’s done. I’m out. If the Beast is in here with us, then he can take them both. I’m not fightinghim.”
And then he turns and runs away, the mage following him.
The remaining two warriors share a look.
“One each,” growls Slaith, blood dripping across his face at a horizontal angle.
