Page 104 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
She can barely believe her own eyes.The bard was right.If she lives to tell him about it, he’s going to be insufferable.
She gets to her feet, keeping one eye on the beast. At this distance, she’s safe from him—for now—while she figures out where the sacerdos trapped her.
Glancing up, the opening in the ceiling has closed again, leaving her with only the flames from the torches lining the circular stone room. Otherwise, the walls are completely bare. A few bloodied and mangled bodies litter the floor, crimson soaking the ground at her feet.I’m not the first one to fall into this trap. Though whether these competitors got their riddle wrong like she did, she’ll never know.
A rounded stone pillar at the center of the room stretches its full height, with half a dozen untouched spears pinned to it, and a thick link chain soldered to it to keep the lion in place.
Once her eyes fully adjust to the dark, she recognizes the shape of a rounded wood door across from her. Hope blooms in her chest.All I have to do is get there?—
The black glint of a large lock hanging between the door and the wall stops her.Of course it’s locked.Sighing, she regards the lion again, knowing what she’s going to find: the key attached to the collar around his mane.
“Fuck,” she mutters aloud. The lion growls, baring his sharp, yellow teeth.
She knows little about these oversized cats. They come from the southeastern territories of the Imperium and are used as entertainmentfor the Phaedran elite. They’re notoriously nasty and difficult to control when untrained. Given he would’ve had to travel by boat to get here, like the bard said, he’s unlikely to be wild.
She’s glad she thought ahead.
Unsheathing her blade and holding it between her teeth, she unloops the short whip from around her waist. She hurls it to the side and slaps the wall with the leather, the sound echoing around her.
The lion hesitates and stumbles back. She grins around her dagger.
With the beast on the defensive now, she takes a step toward him, smacking her whip on the wall again. He takes another hesitant step back, and she takes two more forward. With the wall out of her reach, she cracks the whip on the ground. It’s not as loud as the wall, but it does the trick.
Shuffling sideways and keeping the beast in her sight, she cracks the whip again and again, guiding the lion close to where she once stood. He takes the direction well, and she’s almost tempted to believe this will work.
With her back to the spears, the closest one finally comes within reach. She fumbles behind her, but the blades clank against each other. One falls to the ground and she stills. The lion’s demeanor changes instantly.
Snarling, he leaps for her, paws extended.
Dropping the whip and the dagger from her mouth in a panic, she picks up the spear on the ground and grasps it. Taking a knee despite the open wound, she thrusts it up at the lion’s approaching figure at the last possible moment. The pointed tip impales him through the bottom of his jaw and out of his skull, blood gushing out of his mouth from the mortal wound.
Victory swells in her chest for a moment, but too soon. The forward motion of his attack throws her back against the stone post, slamming her head into it. His reaching claws slice through the flesh of her arms—she cries out, the pain blindingher.
Finally, he stills, the spear in her loosening grip the only thing keeping him from crushing her with his dead weight.
Heart thundering in her skull, she waits until she can breathe right again.
Tossing the lion to the side with trembling muscles, she struggles to her feet. Crimson stains the front of her tunic—the lion’s, she’s certain. Her own warm blood drips down her arms and onto the dirt as she leaves the whip where it lies and retrieves her dagger.
Reaching down with trembling hands and shaky knees, she unclasps the key from around the dead creature’s collar, palming it.
“All that for a fucking key,” she mutters to herself.
Not wanting to chance being left vulnerable, she takes another spear off the pillar, gripping it in the same hand as her dagger, and heads for the door. The key fits in the lock easily, and she tosses both onto the floor with a clang. Her entire body feels nothing and everything at once, wearing her down.
Behind the open door, a rounded stone tunnel appears, lit by more flaming torches. She shuffles down what she imagines to be the length of half the maze, her feet dragging on the ground. Exhaustion and blood loss drain her of any energy she might’ve had left. She has no idea if she’ll face any more challenges, but she’s unlikely to survive them if she does.
At the end of the tunnel, another door appears, this one without a lock. Placing her ear to it, the sounds of cheering breach the wood.Dare I hope?
Cautiously pushing it open, intense sunlight streams in, blinding her. She throws an arm over her eyes, then hisses at the cutting pain of stretching her fresh wounds.
Once her eyes grow more used to the light, she finds stone steps before her. Indecision clouds her thoughts. But she can either trudge up them or go back to a room she can’t otherwise escape from.
Stellae, I hope this is the end of the trial.
A few steps up, and the edges of the arena appear. Then thecrowd fills in, erupting at the sight of her.Or maybe not. Someone else could’ve made it out too.
Reaching the top and seeing no walls encumbering her, she drops her spear to the ground, somehow still clutching her dagger. Stumbling to the outskirts of the arena, close to the open maze, she nearly retches, her stomach roiling from the loss of blood. She braces herself against the wall, hunched over and fighting for breath amidst the cheers.
