Page 39 of Adtovar
“What are you going to do?” Her voice sounded small and worried.
“Me?” I sucked in a deep breath, shoring myself up for the battle ahead. “I’m going to go help Adtovar kill the Uglyhead.”
Chapter 16 – Maddie
The only path from the underground to the arena was a narrow, winding corridor shrouded in darkness. The air lay thick with moisture, and the walls glistened with a cold, clammy dampness that seeped into every pore. I ran, each step echoing, the sound swallowed by an oppressive gloom that seemed to stretch endlessly.
The corridor led to a cramped antechamber connected to the arena by a thick metal gate. The air reeked with the scents of sweat and blood, causing me to gag. The other gladiators gathered here, faces a mix of despair and exhaustion. Some bore fresh wounds, their injuries stark and bleeding, while others lay lifeless, their final battle already lost. In the corner, the healer Isceilite slumped over, passed out drunk, oblivious to the suffering around him. At that moment, rescuing the females alone was no longer enough. These males deserved freedom too and I vowed to find a way to affect a rescue for these tormented souls.
“What happened?” There weren’t supposed to be any other fights today, just Adtovar.
“Bozzo,” Ronco, the only one who still appeared capable of speech, answered. His voice sounded thick and slurry, and I winced at the way his arm seemed to point in the wrong direction. “He made us warm up the Ungeheuer.”
“All—all of you... together?” I stammered, my blood turning to ice.
Ronco gave a jerky nod, his eyes conveying a silent, chilling message that sent a shiver down my spine. If all of them combined couldn’t restrain the Uglyhead, what hope did Adtovar have?
I staggered toward the gate, peering through the sturdy iron bars as the throngs of spectators erupted in cheers, thirsting for battle and bloodshed. A deep, resonant gong reverberated through the arena, signaling Adtovar’s entrance. He strode in, holding a spear in one hand and a sword in the other, his naked body a masterpiece of sculpted muscle, pale skin shimmering under the harsh sunlight. Another gong shattered the air, and from the far side of the arena came something else. Something that looked like a velociraptor had a baby with a porcupine. Its body was a terrifying mass of dark gray scales and black quills, standing twice the height of Adtovar. The creature’s red eyes flashed with wild ferocity, and thick black lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed row upon row of razor-sharp teeth. A true beast. A beast I would not leave my mate to face alone.
I wrapped my hands around the metal bars, shaking and pulling. “I need to get in there!”
“Impossible.” Ronco crawled nearer to my side. Even prone, his head was almost even with mine. His skin was pale green, and his purple eyes were bright and attentive, even though nearly every inch of him was beaten and bloodied. “Bozzo controls the gate mechanism remotely.”
Another gong and the bloodthirsty cries of the crowd grew to a fever pitch as the battle began.
I froze, my mind racing with a myriad of probable outcomes. The females would count to 100 before releasing the first bomb, creating chaos in the arena and aiding our escape. But if I couldn’t make it to Adtovar—if I couldn’t help him, all this... all of it would be for nothing.
I moved away from the gate, grabbing Ronco’s good arm and dragging him with me. Fishing one of the explosive packets out of my bag, I touched it with the glowing tip of the firestick, and immediately, the cloth began to sizzle and smoke, releasing a sharp, acrid odor. I hurled it toward the foot of the gate, where it landed with a soft thud. An instant later, the explosion erupted with a deafening bang, sending a shower of dirt and debris into the air like a miniature volcano. Yet, despite the violent burst, the gate stood unmoved, its iron bars glinting defiantly in the light.
“Fuck!” I screamed, running back to peer through the bars, desperate for a sight of Adtovar.
My mate stood defiantly against the Uglyhead, moving with the grace of a dancer as he dodged and leapt, avoiding the creature’s blows. The length of his spear kept him out of reach of the poisoned spikes as he jabbed at the beast. My heart churned with a tumultuous mix of terror and pride. Adtovar was a vision of strength and skill. His movements were fluid and precise, a symphony of might and elegance that seemed almost otherworldly and might have been beautiful in not so deadly an event.
In the distance, at the far end of the arena, I heard a sharp, resounding pop echo through the air, immediately followed by a thick plume of black smoke curling skyward. The once thunderous crowd fell into an uneasy hush, the earlier bloodthirsty cheers morphing into a murmur of concern and curiosity.
Sureeta had deployed her first bomb.
I had to get to Adtovar!
My hands darted frantically over the cold, twisted steel of the gate, searching desperately for any hint of a weakness. The metal had contorted but remained unyielding, its surface rough and unforgiving against my fingertips.
Adtovar stood his ground, his every move swift and calculated. Yet the deadly spikes whizzed perilously near him, each time coming far too close for comfort, their poisoned tips gleaming with oozing liquid death.
In a frantic haze, I rummaged through the bag for another precious bomb, my fingers trembling. Turning to the gladiators, I scanned their ranks in a desperate search for aid. Yet, all lay too broken and battered—or lifeless—to offer assistance. With a heavy heart, I redirected my attention to the looming gate, my hands shaking as they fumbled to ignite a spark at the tip of my fire stick.
“Throw the bomb at the control panel.”
The voice was unfamiliar yet welcomed, prompting me to spin around in search of the source. My eyes widened in surprise as they settled on Fric, the smaller of Bozzo’s guards, standing amidst the fallen gladiators.
“If you can unseat the controller, we should be able to raise the gate enough for you to get through,” he explained, coming to stand at my side and pointing at a small panel embedded in the stone to the left of the gate.
“You’re helping me?” I blinked at him. “Why?” I asked, my voice tinged with both curiosity and disbelief.
He shrugged, an upward tilt playing at his wide mouth. “I told you before. My father was a fan of Adtovar. He’s too great a gladiator to let Bozzo get away with something like this.”
I ignited the bomb and hurled it at the panel. The reverberating blast echoed, amplified by the explosions being set off throughout the arena. When the smoke dissipated, the panel hung at a skewed angle, with a tangled mass of wires jutting from its side. Fric darted over, grasping the panel firmly between his thick, scaled fingers. With a forceful yank, he tore it awayfrom the wall, sending the wires spilling out like a mechanical waterfall.
He moved to the gate, his scaled hands wrapping tightly around the cold, rusted metal grating, and let out a deep grunt. The entire gate shuddered under his effort, lifting just a fraction of an inch—nowhere near enough for me to crawl through.
