The silk-clad announcer did not seem deterred as he waved to four burly fellows. After leaping into the pit, they broke into two pairs and pulled the fighters apart. The women rained blows upon each other and their captors. Finally, they were separated—their fists still swinging. One of them even clutched a chunk of the other’s hair.
“The Purveyor has spoken. The Purveyor has spoken,” the master of ceremonies solemnly called out, as if this were akinto a proclamation by King George. At the name, the unruly crowd miraculously settled. Whoever the Purveyor was, he held sway.
“The Purveyor wants the first prizefighter match to begin!” the announcer bellowed.
Dread burst through Hannah as the man swung with a flourish in Eoin’s direction. Desperately, Hannah tried to scramble to stand in front of Eoin—even as part of her recognized the futility. It was not as if her slender frame could obscure Eoin’s massive one.
“You!” The master of ceremonies pointed a finger in Eoin’s direction. “You! Come down here now. Show us what a fight really is.”
Eoin stepped backward, but to his stoic credit, he managed not to look like a hunted hare. Hannah was fairly certain that she was the very picture of a prey animal as she swiveled her head around to locate any exits.
“Why are you backing away?” the announcer sneered. “Do we have a cowardly jackanapes here? Don’t let him run, fellows!”
The crowd behind Eoin shoved him forward, and he stumbled into Hannah. Before he mowed her over, he picked her up and plopped her down to his side. Hannah watched in utter horror as Eoin was forced to leap into the pit. Cheers and jeers rang through the chamber. Hannah’s stomach clenched so violently that bile burned her throat.
How was she to stop this? She could fight, but not at the level of a prizefighter. She had no prayer of helping him.
Pan paced nervously on her shoulder, but he did not fly into the air. It was as if the slender bird was trying his best to protect her even as she was trying to save Eoin. Pan had been trained to provide distractions during times of danger,but normally he screamed about ghosts and murder. Hannah doubted that either of those cries would terrify this crowd. In fact, they’d probably want to witness a killing. What could instill fear?
The bear could. Obviously, it was at the entrance to intimidate. And all these men had witnessed its frustrated anger.
And Pan. Pan could roar.
Perhaps not well enough to fool a calm and rational gathering, but this was a crowd on edge. It wouldn’t take much to stir up a panic.
Chapter Thirteen
Eoin—who had lived so many years numb—felt shredded by emotion. Fear. For himself. For Hannah. Even for their bloody parrot companion. Guilt. Over his mother. Over his sister. Disgust. With the violence. With the blasted, depraved crowd. With his own weakness.
Nothing made sense. Not this hidden, massive underground space. Not the secrecy surrounding this entertainment—which, although abhorrent, wasn’t illegal. Not the Purveyor’s demand that Eoin, a random person in the crowd, fight in the middle of the female bout. Swounds, even the existence of a mysterious, powerful figure named the Purveyor was absurd and unsettling.
Eoin knew that he’d blundered into a trap, but why was someone trying to ensnare him and why here? Was his mother still connected to this place? Had she fought… and bled… in this very ring?
A roar ripped through the air, and Eoin froze. Every hair follicle stood at attention as a bone-deep chill washed over him.
Hell. Was he to fight the bloody bear? Did they think this was the Roman Empire and this dank hole the Colosseum? Of all the ways Eoin thought he would die, he’d never thought it would be as a modern-day gladiator fighting in a venatio.
“The bear’s escaped!”
Was Hannah speaking? Even though she was attempting to sound more masculine, he’d recognize her voice anywhere. So many aspects of her seemed embedded upon his very soul.
Rawrrrrrrrrrrr!
How was that rumble coming from overhead? Eoin vaguely recalled that bears could climb, but he doubted that the rickety wooden pillars could hold even his weight, let alone an angry bruin’s.
The crowd quieted, and heads bobbed. It was clear that everyone was trying to determine the extent of the danger.
Rawrrrrrrr!
The second roar triggered pure chaos. Yells and screams erupted throughout the chamber. The throng was no longer focused on the ring or on Eoin but on their own safety. Some of the shouts floated down to Eoin as he desperately tried to assess the situation. How was he supposed to get Hannah and himself to safety if there was a bear on the loose… or if the gathered mass stampeded in the tight, cramped quarters? They could literally bring down the entire building if too many people pushed against the poorly installed supports.
“Shite!”
“That’s sounds like Ursus!”
“He’s escaped!”
“I hate that bear.”
