The arena fell into silence. Crushing, suffocating silence.
He glared at Kira, and she slunk back against her chair.
A fluttering sound erupted from the other side of the arena, and a tiny bird zipped into view. It moved too fast to track properly, a blur of color against the white stone walls.
A minxpip?
Teal and silver and fluffy, no bigger than a child’s fist, its wings beat so fast they were just shimmer and suggestion.
Timid, they lived in hedges. Feigned death if something came near. Chirped when they were scared.
What was it doing here in this place of giants and fangs and death?
It hovered in front of me, close enough that I could feel the wind from its wings against my face. Tiny eyes studied me with an intensity that made me want to step backward.
Of all the creatures in this arena,thiswas the only one that didn’t flinch. Maybe because it was too small to know fear.
Or too wise to fake it.
“Please, I don’t…” I whispered. “I’m not?—”
Something prodded at my mind. Worried about what it might see, I fought back, reflexive, protective, trying to carefully nudge it away.
The air shimmered around us both and gasps rang out from the crowd. This…tinything was bonding with me.
And I was so confused. Of course it was a minxpip, something small and sweet and utterly useless. The whole arena saw it. And worst of all, I did too. I hated myself for how badly that mattered.
The pull felt invasive yet gentle. Like fingers ghosting across my forehead. Not asking.Taking. It found the place I kept hidden, and it sank its claws in.
When it reeled back, I gulped in air as if I was surfacing from deep water. My throat closed off.
This was what the magic had chosen for me; a puff of downy feathers. Big blinking eyes. A limp tail that twitched and went still.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look at the crowd or athim.
This wasn’t strength. This was pity. Mockery.
Anger twisted in my gut, ugly and hot. And beneath it lurked shame. Shame that I cared what they were thinking. That part of me still wanted to be chosen. That something inside me ached at being so thoroughly, humiliatingly overlooked.
The tiny creature chirped and flew to land on my shoulder.
The arena had gone completely silent.
Hundreds of eyes watched us.
Wasthis better than death?
Confusion rippled through the stands. Whispers of “impossible” and “has never happened.” Even Kira had gone silent. Only Trew remained still, his dark eyes fixed on my shoulder with something that looked almost like satisfaction.
I crooked my head around to peer at the bird, reeling backward.
The minxpip stared at me while I stared back, still unable to believe what had happened.
I could feel the warmth of its magic, the gentle insistence of its choice.
Somewhere deep, I understood what it offered: a partnership, a bond, a chance at strength and connection that others would kill for. And yet my mission burned brighter than any comfort this tiny creature could give.
There was no applause. No roar of approval from the crowd.
