“You’ve spoken,” I say. “And your game master hears you. If the angel Celine wins this fight with the help of her demon and her basilisk, she’ll be gifted the angel and vampire as her reward. If she loses, they both die.”
Overwhelming cheers erupt, and I input the code to free Ciprian and Luca. They drop from the platforms and land in the sand.
The serpents sense the vibrations and shoot out of their holes again, splitting their numbers to chase each target. There’s a jittery fury to their movements—they’re mad about the qnoksu screams—and they’re eager to take their frustration out on their opponents.
Luca’s body contorts, but his shift takes far too long.
The serpents are much faster.
Ciprian stands in front of him, feet spread wide, and focuses on the blurred shapes heading toward them. His cheekbones sharpen, and the lead snake careens to the right unexpectedly, creating a chain-reaction collision as six or seven of its siblings fail to course correct.
Luca finishes his shift. His basilisk surveys the arena through cloudy yellow eyes, unmoving until it spots Celine. Standing on the rock, slicing at the snakes circling her, she may as well be swinging her sword at gnats.
Luca hisses loudly, scattering sand and ice with his breath. As one, the snakes look at him and turn to stone. In a single, collective glance, they transform from living, hunting predators to lifeless stone.
Ciprian kicks one of the statues as he runs to Celine. It rolls three times before falling on its side in the sand. The crowd roars with laughter.
The few snakes that remain don’t stand a chance. I knew the clutch wasn’t enough to kill them. All the partial victory will do is give them a false sense of confidence.
This fight is just getting started, and if they want to survive what’s coming, they’ll have to work together.
I reach for the lever. It’s time for act two.
SEVENTEEN
Monster Realm Survival Tip #31:
Everything you love can be weaponized.
MALACH
Never in my twenty-seven years have I been this helpless.
I press against the barrier, but it’s as sturdy as it was the last time we were carted into this godsforsaken place.
Ciprian reaches the mass of snakes orbiting Celine’s rock, and his eyes lose focus.
I grind my teeth, recognizing the signs.
He shouldn’t cast nightmares unless someone is there to watch his back. While focusing on his magical senses, he loses full control of the others. Ciprian’s illusions are powerful, but random chance still exists—an opponent could run into him by accident and tear him to pieces.
Luca surrounds him in his coils, and my shoulders relax.
Whatever Ciprian is showing the remaining snakes, it disrupts their trajectories. Instead of a well-oiled contingent of serpentsrolling in perfect formation, they become loose wheels tossed onto pavement, careening and wobbling at random.
Celine jumps down from the rock and swings her sword, lopping the head off the nearest snake. She works her way through them with efficiency, a smile spreading across her face as she looks at Alistair and me, then Riven expectantly.
She thinks they’ve won, but I’m not sure.
The veydra won’t meet her eyes. He’s focused instead on the packed stands of spectators. “They’ve survived round one. Do you think they can handle what’s next?”
The crowd goes wild.
More odds flash on the screen. They’re dire.
I press my hand against the barrier.
Something is wrong. Riven is deviating from the previous pattern. At first glance, he looks the same—a performer embodying his favorite role. Then his waxy amber profile glitches, once, twice. Riven’s mask is slipping.
