Breal smiled. “Okay, I’m going to shove you hard. Hit me.”
“Okay,” Polly said and swung her bat at her with a power swing.
Breal caught it like before, but this time, instead of stopping, she swung back into her and sent Polly flying.
The crowd went wild.
For a second, Polly saw Erzo.
On his feet.
She hit the ground and shook her head. Big strong arms scooped her up.
It took her a moment to realize she knew those arms.
“Erzo? What are you doing?”
31
“I’ve got you,” Erzo said.
He stroked her cheek, and when her eyes met his, he knew he’d made the right choice.
Consequences be damned.
Erzo helped Polly up, his stomach sick after watching Breal shove her back so hard, she rolled across the floor like a toy. Part of him wanted to strangle his lifelong friend.
He couldn’t stop himself. He leaped over the railings and hit the soft surface of the Pit and charged.
The crowd reacted with a gasp. Erzo just destroyed the point of this entire combat—interfering defeats the purpose.
Murmurs started all throughout the room, shock and cries of foul and cheating.
Not that he cared at this point. He was done.
Done with all of it.
He was taking Polly, and they were leaving.
“Erzo, I’m fine, I can take a hit,” she said.
Then a loud cry shattered the whispered voices—a battle cry. He’d only heard that a handful of times in his life, but he knew it.
Every Charro in the room knew it.
They turned the sound. Toward Breal, who was high against the wall of the pit, swung around and slammed hard.
Into nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing.
In a flash, the Charro’s shielding vanished, revealing a blue-tinted Charro, with spikes on his tail.
Breal didn’t hesitate, and she shot him in the head.
Breal did another flip, and landed on the rails. “We’re being attacked! Kovat, Dona! Defend!” Her voice echoed through the chamber, and the Charro responded.
Erzo turned to Polly. “How many?”
