Page 75 of Court of Lies and Deceit

I jerk back, trying to get away, but the streams of water are so massive that they almost cover the entire corridor.

A shadow of death and fury slams down on the sand in front of me.

I suck in a sharp breath as Draven lands hard on the ground in front of me, his massive wings still flared wide from when he flew over the wall from the other corridor. He shoves a blast of storm winds right into the water.

The two forces collide with a wet slapping sound that cracks across the arena. Water crashes right back into all three members of the Blue Faction, sending them flying through the air and slamming into the stone wall behind. Two of them gasp and struggle to their feet. One of them doesn’t.

Draven uses the element of surprise to the fullest and doesn’t waste a second as he shoots a bolt of lightning at one of the two remaining players. The one on the left, a female fae with short red hair, is struck before she has even managed to raise her head. Her body shakes uncontrollably as she collapses back down on the sand, her chest rising and falling in jagged breaths while her limbs continue twitching from the lightning.

Our final remaining opponent snaps his head up, and his eyes widen in shock as he stares at us. Raising a hand, he gets ready to shoot magic back at us.

Ice explodes into the air before him.

It shoots up from the ground, crawling up his legs and encasing his entire body all the way up to his neck.

I spin around, staring at the corridor behind me.

Isera is stalking down the corridor towards us, her face a mask of cold power, while Galen strides along next to her with a sword in his hand and an assessing look in his violet eyes as he scans the scene before him.

Behind them, Lyra is bracing Alistair, her arm around his waist and his over her shoulders, as they make their way towards us. Lyra looks energetic as always with a grin on her mouth, but Alistair looks like he’s going to collapse any second. Exhaustionclings to every line of his face, and he is leaning heavily on Lyra in order to stay upright. After the energy he was forced to expend in order to melt the wall, and then a battle with the Green Faction right afterwards, he must have used up basically all his magical energy.

“The key,” Isera demands, her eyes locked on the now trapped member of the Blue Faction.

“Fuck you, you worthless Seelie cunt,” the guy snaps from the wall.

Isera doesn’t even blink at the insult. Her features remain as ruthlessly cold as ever as she simply flicks her wrist. The ice crawls up over the guy’s throat and jaw until it covers his mouth and nose.

Panic crackles in his eyes like lightning.

Sand swirls around Isera’s boots as she strides up to him, stopping two steps away. Then she just stands there, watching him with impassive eyes. He begins jerking. Or trying to, at least. Only the top of his head moves as he tries to break free from the ice. It doesn’t work.

A ball of water starts forming in the air, but it wavers and then disappears as the guy can’t concentrate enough to keep his magic up while he’s choking to death at the same time.

Terror shines in his eyes, and his head jerks more violently.

Isera still doesn’t allow him to breathe.

Above us, the crowd is cheering in excitement. Apparently, this kind of violent and cruel power demonstration is exactly what they wanted to see.

“The key,” Isera demands again, her voice splitting the air like a blade.

The trapped man quickly shifts his gaze and starts desperately pointing with his eyes towards the woman with short red hair who is still lying on the ground, twitching from Draven’s lightning strike.

Taking her time, Isera bends down and starts searching through the woman’s blue fighting leathers. The guy by the wall struggles hard against the ice, desperation pulsing in his eyes.

Above, the calls from the crowd turn even more frantic. Only the people who are wearing blue scarves or holding blue banners are yelling in anger. Everyone else is leaning forward in their seats, clapping and pointing and cheering in approval.

At last, Isera pulls out a black key from the woman’s belt pouch.

Relief washes through me. A black key. Exactly what we needed.

Isera straightens and then flicks her wrist. The ice shrinks back down to the guy’s throat. He gasps in deep breaths. Above, the audience laughs mockingly.

“You fucking—” the guy presses out, still trying to breathe at the same time.

But it’s cut off by a yelp as Isera suddenly makes the ice encasing his body evaporate. The sudden loss of support makes his knees buckle, and he crashes down on the ground. Before he can so much as catch himself, Galen rams the butt of his sword into the guy’s stomach. He gasps again, his body convulsing, as he crumbles the final distance down on the sand.

Draven whirls towards me.

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