“I’m behind bars. What could I possibly do?”
“It’s this,” he said, gesturing to himself seated on the ground. “Or I gag you for the night. Make your choice.”
I turned over and tucked the heat glyph closer, facing the wall away from the stare I could still feel on my back. It took a long time for sleep to find me—but eventually it did, along with my recurring dream.
The woman with her haunting song, her face that I couldn’t remember. And now I never would.
8
Even the brightest fire becomes ash. Even the deepest shadow awaits the dawn. There is light in every darkness because hope is eternal.
I replayed Edith’s voice like a lullaby, attempting to drown out the sound of my teeth chattering. My breath heaved out in short, labored gasps in the cold air.
The colossal Arena loomed above us, stone walls jutting into the gray winter sky. We stood beneath a wide gatehouse, lined with polished stone and bronze, extending into an interior corridor that ringed the entire Arena. The sheer size of it all left me gaping, the massive sand pit at its center seemingly endless and foreboding.
“Use that heat glyph you pilfered. No sense freezing,” Blake said gruffly.
The Ambush Master had brought me himself to be thrown to the tygers.
You’ll have to trust that I know what I’m doing.
My stomach churned. I didn’t trust him one bit. I was quite confident in my ability to die quickly today—though I did use the glyph.
Beyond the open metal gate ahead of us, I could see the rows of stone seats surrounding the pit and rising up toward the open sky. Already, almost every seat was filled with nobility and commoners alike, all eager to see the viciousness of the Bonding. I, too, had been a spectator here, high in the stands where the commoners sat. I’d never imagined that I would be the one in the pit. Hopeful candidates streamed past us to step onto the sand. The pulse of ambition and fear permeated the air, making my heart race.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“The Hell Gate,” Blake answered grimly. “It’s where the corpses are carried out.”
There were benches and stretchers in the archway, no doubt to lay out the bodies.
My mouth felt dry, my tongue like sandpaper as I tried to swallow. There were guards stationed at every archway, bristling with blades and round shields, their intimidating presence making one thing very clear: There would be no turning back once I entered the pit.
The ground reeked of blood and wet fur. My boots slipped in the churned dirt, and I swore I could hear breathing. Heavy. Animal. I began to tremble.
“I guess most candidates are hoping to Bond with Flame,” I said, forcing the words out. My voice sounded too high, too light. I needed to say something—anything—to stop the panic from climbing up my throat.
“No.” Blake didn’t look at me, his voice tight with restraint. “She is kept away.”
I turned to stare at his profile, since he didn’t deign to look at me.
“She’s not Bonding?”
“Tygresses don’t Bond.”
My brow dipped. “Never?”
Blake took a breath, then paused before he answered, “There is legend of one ancient tygress who Bonded with a female warrior. But in known history, they never have. They are a force unto themselves. Most candidates are hoping to Bond with her future tyger Mate so they would be the leader of all the Tyger Warriors.”
“They would take your place as Ambush Master.”
He nodded, seeming unconcerned by this possibility. “Unless Kingsolver Mates with Flame. But that is their choice.”
A guard appeared before us and addressed Blake. “All entrants are to enter the pit, sir.”
“You will give that glyph back to me later.” He looked at me meaningfully. Like he was sure I would survive. Irrationally, I wanted to cling to him.
You’ll have to trust that I know what I’m doing.
