Days ago I wouldn’t have had the audacity, but now I couldn’t afford to show weakness. He was curious, his attention divided, and I needed to keep that interest divided long enough to save Vitoria. And then, monsters on the outskirts or not, we needed to leave the city.
We walked through a tunnel that grew more and more crowded as we approached the arena, and the growing hum of the crowd. Calder stayed close but silent, radiating protective fury that made other people step aside without quite knowing why. Wickett matched pace beside me, occasionally making small adjustments that tested the binding’s range. I was sure he’d figured it out by changing his own desires. Whether hewanted me closer or didn’t. Fighting it tightened the bond, and he’d been mastering reverse psychology over the magic. Smart. Not that I’d ever tellhimthat.
The arena doors opened, and the crowd’s roar washed over us. A hedge maze sprawled across the center of the grass field, already shifting and growing as we watched. A living wall twenty feet tall, thorny vines, and poisonous flowers stretched into and along the passages.
“Furies fucking help me,” I breathed, tucking a curl behind my ear.
Wickett shot me a sharp look. “Problem, witch?”
“You could say that.” I stared at the maze that would become my grave. “Katarina’s an earth witch. She can control every plant in there. This entire maze is her weapon.”
“Noted,” he said with the kind of dismissal that made me want to drown him. “The hedges will respond to strong emotion. Fear, anger, desperation, the plants feed on it.”
“And you’re telling me this why?”
“Because you’re angry. Constantly. And anger makes everything in there more... dangerous.”
I stopped walking, which forced him to stop too. Behind us, Calder’s footsteps also halted. “I’m angry because I was born wrong in their eyes, and no amount of good deeds will ever change that. I’m angry because they’re making me choose between my life and Katarina’s. I’m angry because the whole world runs on the blood of witches. I’m angry because this society is fucking sick. That anger isn’t going away.”
“Then learn to use it.” His gray eyes held mine with something that wasn’t quite sympathy. “You signed up for this. No one made you. So, channel it instead of letting it control you.”
“Like you do?”
“I don’t get angry.”
“Liar.”
“Careful.” He warned, grabbing my hand to look at my palm. “On this day alone, I’ve allowed you to push more boundaries than anyone before you.”
Wickett’s fingers trailed down the raised skin where his mark sat. “Don’t mistake my curiosity for patience.”
I snorted, ripping my hand from his grip. “I don’t mistake you at all, hunter.”
Thousands of faces stared down on us from every tiered level of the arena. In the lower tiers, I caught glimpses of fine wool cloaks and scarves in a rainbow of colors. The wealthy had claimed the best views, of course, their jewelry catching what little sunlight broke through the overcast sky. Higher up, the crowds wore rougher fabrics, but their voices carried louder, hungrier. They were missing their precious Nexus games, and they wanted a show.
Nothing said “civilized society” quite like thousands of people gathering to watch someone get torn apart by sentient shrubbery. At least with Nexus, the players trained for it. Lived for it. But this? This was just blood sport with extra steps and a moral justification so thin you could see right through it. The real tragedy wasn’t that they wanted violence; it was that they’d dressed it up as justice and convinced themselves they were the good ones for watching. And then they bought commemorative pins on their way out.
The hedge shuddered. Just once, but enough that I felt it in my bones. I couldn’t see much inside, beyond the shadowed entrance, but a vine on the outside thickened, thorns lengthening until they curved like claws. Another section of wall bulged outward, then snapped back into place with a sound like breaking ribs. The flowers, nightshade, I thought, or maybe hemlock, turned their faces toward us. Tracked us. The maze wasn’t just alive. It was paying attention. And somewhere in this fucking nightmare, Katarina was probably laughing her ass off,because she’d already won before we even stepped inside. The hedges would do whatever she wanted. Strangle. Poison. Crush. All she had to do was ask nicely, and every plant in there would be happy to oblige.
I scanned the sea of faces, searching for the one I desperately needed to see. Vitoria would never be here. But Eda Mire might, if only to keep eyes off her notable absence. Hunters clocked every witch’s whereabouts as often as they could. Unfortunately, in the chaos of waving banners and shouting spectators, I couldn’t pick out her familiar form.
Wind whipped across the arena floor, carrying the scent of earth and something sharper: magic, thick enough to taste.
Wickett stepped ahead of me, talking over his shoulder. “We go for the center artifact. Logical choice.”
“Logical would be to refuse to take part in this spectacle and draw straws. Save the bloodshed.”
“Cowardice doesn’t suit you.”
“Fine. Then the logical choice is to take the first artifact we see, rather than taking one just because someone else wants it. But who am I to judge?”
Before he could respond, the Magistrate’s voice boomed across the arena, speaking directly to me and the Ripper. “Champions, you have earned first entry. Choose your path, and thus your item wisely. You won’t be able to see the crowd but worry not. They will have no problem seeing you.”
The magical ribbon connecting me and Wickett thrummed as we approached the maze entrance. Three artifacts waited somewhere in this green hell: a crown, a blade, and a chalice. We couldn’t even be certain what they did. We just knew claiming one meant potential survival. Above us, the crowd pressed against the viewing platforms like hungry beasts, their voices carrying down in waves of bloodlust and betting odds.
“Ten crowns says a witch dies first!”
“Go left.”
