“Fine.” Though Karvek’s words were like haunting music in the background.
But she could use a bit of a distraction. And it wasn’t like she had much to do beyond train with her forgings, at least until the fights were over.
“I’m glad you didn’t turn out like them. The guardians,” Vabihn sighed as he sank back. “I was worried there at first. They’re so uptight. So superior.”
Her stomach clenched, but Mezhimar cut in first. “We can all be thankful.”
“You know I amtechnicallya guardian still,” she pointed out weakly, not able to stop herself.
“Eh.” Vabihn shook that idea away.
She wanted to argue, to tell him all the noble things her family had done. But she couldn’t afford to put any distance between them.
So she let it drop.
By the time the day of the fights came, Iryana was going stir crazy. Too much time to think. She’d managed to summon one of her forgings inside a straw target, though. Just for a moment, and just her small forged dagger, but it had happened. It was something. With practice, who knew what she’d be able to do. It wasn’tsomething she’d told anyone else about yet. Unless she could rely on it fully, she didn’t want anyone else to either.
Iryana stepped carefully through the crowds on the platform, avoiding eye contact.
Where townhouse walls had crumbled or been ripped away, wooden platforms extended out toward the pit. Wooden ladders and walkways clung to the sides of the buildings, connecting them. Offshoots stretched down alleyways. The stands didn’t seem entirely stable to her. Just like Karvek’s control.
The makeshift stands were fuller than ever and taut with tension. People drank and fought; enjoying themselves, but there were glances between the carefully divided groups of those that had joined Myura River after Karvek was general, and those that had been here under the last general.
And then there were the King Commander’s men.
As she slipped out one of the townhouse windows serving as an entryway, Iryana nearly knocked into one of those soldiers. She muttered an apology, but he barely glanced at her, eyes scanning over the fight, the crowds, and lingering every few moments on Karvek himself.
They were watching him.
While the King Commander hadn’t seemed like he would force Karvek’s fealty, and seemed willing to work with him regardless, he would have to be stupid not to see the threat Karvek posed. And Pyetar had mentioned that the King Commander had chosen not to do anything about Karvek so far at least, but he could always change his mind.
Iryana picked up various conversations as she walked. Anything that could help her family. With every day that was passing, she grew more desperate.
“Well, I couldn’t; I don’t leave my room at night anymore,” one younger female soldier said under her breath as Iryana walked behind her.
A group of Karvek’s newer soldiers were throwing bone dice. Most of them were in various forms of armor and undress, having been among the more enthusiastic participants of the fights.
Iryana didn’t dare shake her head where anyone could see, but the idea of fighting each other for glory was off-putting. There was enough risk in fightingthe dakii. All the soldiers attending were required to enter the pit at least once, but the second, third, and fourth fights—those were a choice.
“This is a far better brigade than that,” one man was saying as he laughed, sweaty, blood-stained armor half-pulled off. “At least now that Karvek is in charge.”
“We are making at least double what we used to,” another said under his breath, eyebrows waggling.
Iryana frowned just slightly but didn’t slow her step.
“Are you sure you aren’t fighting again? You’re one win away from being in the final fights.”
Iryana felt her gaze slipping back to land on Voor, one of Captain Gintar’s lackeys, lounging on the end of the bench. He shrugged like he didn’t care either way, but there was hunger in his eyes and his hand rubbed at the side of his calf.
A cry rose around them, and Iryana watched as the winner of the latest fight had his fist thrust into the air. She stared.
It was Pyetar, skin wet with sweat and blood. There was a sneer on his lips, and his muscles were still tense as if he hadn’t realized the fight was over. He looked barely contained, and it sent a shiver down her spine. He spat to the side, a streak of red-tinged spit landing on the stained dirt floor of the pit.
Pyetar looked wild, dangerous. Even more so than when he showed off for the other soldiers, putting them in their place. But then she looked into his eyes, and they looked—blank. It wasn’t what she would have expected based on the rest of him, coiled to strike. She would have thought his eyes would look like that day he had kept Karvek from finding her. When he stood a breath away, with the rain pouring down around them, fire blazed in his eyes. There had been no doubt in her mind at that moment that he felt something.
Now, it seemed he felt nothing.
The crowd continued to shout and cheer, standing and calling out pairings they wanted to see next. Challenges called out.
