Of Silver and Beasts (32 page)

His hand glides through my hair, smoothing the snarled tangles behind my ear. “Have you ever considered, Protector Kaliope, that you’re not a savior?”

I puff out of breath. “I know that.”

“Then what makes you think it’s your responsibility to rescue everyone and defeat everything?”

Thinking, I say, “Because I was chosen to be here.”

“So was I, apparently. All this time, I’ve been unknowingly guarding a shard to your empress’s relic. It’s no accident that I’m here now—that your empress chose you to guard me. The goddesses are waging a war, and we’re just the pawns.” He pauses a beat. “But maybe the goddesses have another purpose for us other than dying in vain against a battle we have no chance of winning.”

It’s common sense, of course. We’re all in this together; every one of us was chosen. The logical side of my brain screams to listen to Caben, to allow his words of wisdom to ease my conscience. But the dark pang thrumming through my blood argues. Does Caben or the others feel the madness of this place? Do they feel it so presently that it grips their senses—their souls?

I can’t answer that for sure. But my heart tells me no. They are not connected to the darkness lurking down here. I look at my wrist and watch the silver swirl against my skin.

But I am
.

Only, the dark priest must need more than mercury and blood to restore his goddess fully, or he’d have done so by now. The Otherworlders have been able to sustain Bale since her banishment with sacrifices, even turning them into a sport for their realm. But the Reckoning is a ritual of sorts—not a sport. And there are other factors, like the relic, that I need to connect.

The many pressing worries make me shiver, and Caben pulls me closer to him, resting his chin on the top of my head.

“We have to defend the shard,” I say. “They can’t get it.”

“I will defend it with my life,” Caben says, his voice thick with sleep.

His breaths even out while I stare at the door.

As long as I can take the shard with me, I can succeed in fulfilling my duty. If I can’t escape death—then my death will serve my deities and empress.

There is no bright morning sun to rouse me awake, only the banging and shouts of training contenders. The chilled air in the chamber settles over me, and I rub the goose bumps over my arms.

I push myself up and massage my sore shoulder caused from sleeping on it awkwardly. A tray of food sets next to the cot. I smile, thinking of Caben bringing it in here. Despite the nausea churning in my stomach as last night’s events come flooding back, I lift the tray and force the hard bread and brown rice into my mouth and swallow.

Later, in the shower unit, I allow the lukewarm water to rinse my body clean of grime and Caben’s blood. It has stained my skin, settling in the grooves of my palms and knuckles. I wonder if he’s training, or if he’s still nursing his injuries. I have to make sure Bax gives him something to recover before tonight.

After dressing in a new tunic and pants, I pull my wet hair into a low bun and head toward the training room. The large, gloomy chamber feels nearly empty without Tobias’s presence. I trudge through the black dirt, questioning if Lilly is awake yet and mourning Willa. My eyes linger on the waterfall as I pass by, and it takes everything inside of me to keep walking.

Lilly is strong. Kai is with her.

Goddesses, comfort her
.

Kaide and Orion are in the corner of the room practicing with swords. I continue to where Crew and Lena are battling with spears. Caben is crouched along the rock wall watching them. His eyes widen when he sees me.

“We’ve decided to go through every weapon today,” Caben says as I sit next to him.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

He laces his fingers through mine, resting my hand in his lap. His eyes skim my face. “Are you okay?”

I want to ease his worries quickly with a simple
yes
, but I consider if I really am. “I think so,” I finally say.

That’s enough for him, and his lips stretch into an understanding, yet sad smile. “I think we need to practice the spear, too. I don’t want to be caught off-guard again.”

For the rest of the day, we fight with as many weapons as possible before the time comes to be taken to the Cage. I had thought Crew would be the toughest opponent on Bax’s league, but Lena challenges me the most. She comes close to beating me in our last match, and I’m so startled with her skill that she nearly does.

Crew stated that she was the most regarded assassin in Taggar, and I can see why. She’s amazing, and she fights dirty. She even taught me some underhanded moves that I pray I won’t have to use.

We eat a hearty dinner of cabbage, potatoes, and some foreign meat. I try not to question its origin, and instead wonder where the Otherworlders grow their vegetation. In a greenhouse, maybe. The cabbage is strange and yellowed, but tastes the same as I remember it. Bax must know that tonight will be more difficult on us, and has talked His Liege into providing a better meal. I eat in silence, listening as Caben and Crew discuss our strategy.

“Lena should try talking to Orion,” Crew suggests. “If he and his brother side with us, we could take a stand tonight.”

Caben shakes his head. “And what of the other leagues?” he asks. “I’m damn near positive that most don’t want to chance their life for everyone. By the look in some of their eyes, they love the competition, and believe they’ll win.”

“I agree with Payne,” Lena chimes in, not looking up from her tray. “If we move too soon, it will end up being us versus the leagues. And the Otherworlders will only enjoy watching the contenders kill each other in a final battle a day earlier.”

“They don’t want to lose out on their bets,” Crew says, his voice laced with aggravation. Anger flashes in his eyes, as if he’s trying to mask his fear.

Caben dumps his tray to the side. “As much as I don’t want to fight, I know it’s our only chance. We have to wait until the numbers are down and then take a stand against the ring leaders and the guards.” Caben’s blue eyes glance at me quickly before meeting Crew’s glare.

What he doesn’t say, and what I don’t doubt has just gone through his mind, is that we were depending on all the Nactue being in the final battle to ensure that the remaining contenders would stand up against the ring leaders. But now that Willa is gone, there’s a silent question whether or not the other Nactue will make it.

I swallow down the partially chewed meat, and tell myself the scraping sensation in my throat is what causes my eyes to water.

Crew’s gray eyes darken. “What if we just take a ring leader into the Cage with us?”

My skin prickles, and dread at his intension slams my gut. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Crew asks. “I think holding Bax hostage is smarter. He is the dark priest’s son, after all. Bartering his life for ours makes more sense.”

The discussion is cut short as the cell door bangs open. Bax and his guards enter the training room and summon us to our feet. As we line up, I glance at Crew’s anxious features, hoping his new theory has been forgotten.

I don’t know if the stadium full of red-faced Otherworlders has lost its effect, or if the full moon above doesn’t hold as much threat, but my mind and body are numb. My senses are dulled, and the Cage crackling with electric blue is more mesmerizing than nefarious.

In the middle of the Cage, one of Krewl’s Quicksilvers—a petite girl with a leather circlet named Whip—faces off against the Colossal Drack. He was the last to fight last night, but I’m told that someone has to go twice, as we’re an uneven number of contenders. Bax said his name was drawn at random, but I have my doubts on how the fights are chosen, or
rigged
.

I’m only thankful that Caben or one of the Nactue wasn’t chosen for this burden.

Whip and Drack have made it to the second half of the fight and now both sport weapons. My gaze drifts past their tattered and bloodied forms to where Lilly stood last night. I haven’t seen her yet, and my mind can’t focus on anything going on around me until I know she’s all right.

I’ve said nothing more to Bax. In a way, I understand what he’s doing for his family. His fear of his father runs deep; even deeper is his fear of the moon goddess. If I were him, I’d probably do the same. And as I continue to search for Lilly, I decide in an instant that I would. I would get those I care for far away from here if given the chance.

Knowing now that Bax has a similar motivation as mine hinders my original plan. If I convince him of my link to the deities, would it hurt him or his family? How closely connected is the dark priest to Bale? Does she speak to him directly? Would the dark priest know that my claim is false and punish Bax?

Before, Bale was a myth. But now that I can feel her evil presence here, I think the dark priest would see through the guise. I decide it’s not worth the risk.

As Drack comes crashing down, Whip strangles him with her leather circlet. The small contender jumps off his back as the horn sounds. Drack didn’t beat the odds, and the match is over. Krewl has another win.

I stare at the blood seeping into the black earth, my gaze unfocused. As the guards move in to clear away the felled contender, the crowd quiets, and Bax turns to face his league. His eyes scan each of us in turn. Before he’s ready to give whatever speech he’s prepared, the horn sounds again, and the announcer enters the Cage and calls Orion.

My head snaps to the dominant feather brother.

There’s no hint of fear on his dusky face, and his brother’s features are a hardened mask betraying no emotion until Orion reaches the center of the Cage. Then his face crumples, revealing the worry and anxiety that must be wracking his body.

Caben attempts to move closer to Kaide, but the brother levels him with a squinted glare. He doesn’t want comfort, and he expects his brother to win—for them both to win and walk out of here together.

Maybe they will.

The goddesses haven’t given me a sign as to who will be the victor. I feel like they’ve abandoned me. I close my eyes and search deep, seeking the tiny light that is my empress’s life force. It’s there but weak, hidden beneath the madness and darkness bordering on the edge of my soul.

The crowd roars as the announcer calls Collar’s next contender to the Cage. Primal emerges from the opened door of the chamber, filling the space. His shoulders swell with muscles, leaving no room for a neck, and his tunic and pants nearly tear away from his bulging body as he walks toward Orion.

The horn moans through the dark, and I turn my head before the two contenders clash. I don’t want to watch another bloody death. Instead, I look to the full moon hanging in the starless, projected sky. The pale orb washes me in light as the blackness invades.

Two more fights. One more night.