Page 87 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

Despite the mid-afternoon sun, a chill ran through her body, causing her to break out in goosebumps.

Where hadthatcome from?

She didn’t always agree with Erebos, but she still respected him... didn’t she?

Worried the High Lord would somehow be able to sense the traitorous direction of her thoughts, she shut them down, turning all of her attention to her first opponent. With Loren disqualified, only Dichen and Cedric were left. Since Shadow had no magic to counter the blood mage’s, Dichen was the clear choice.

This should be interesting.

They were well matched, but both of them were used to carrying out their assignments under the cover of darkness. It was going to be a change fighting out in the open, with nowhere to hide and nothing to grant either of them the element of surprise.

“Contestants, you’ve fought brilliantly thus far. Each trial was created with the intention of testing not only your limitations but your suitability to take on the role of the High Lord’s Champion. You have risen to each and every challenge. Your adaptability, strategic thinking, strength, stamina, and perseverance are the very highest of calibers. Today we test your heart. And so I ask you this, who wants it most?”

A few weeks ago, Shadow would have known the answer to Dmitri’s question without hesitation. It was her. Today, the words lacked the conviction that would prove them to be true. Thankfully, no answer was required.

At least not from her.

The crowd roared in response to the Master of Ceremony’s speech, everyone screaming out the name of their favorite. She took what comfort she could from the fact that there were others out there that still believed her to be the most deserving.

“Contestants, please take your place in the center of the ring. No matter which of you leaves victorious, you’ve all earned your place amongst the stars.”

As one, the final four descended the stage and moved to the dusty arena that would soon be baptized by their blood. There wasn’t much in terms of decoration, though none was truly needed. The contestants were the entertainment. Their slaughter of one another a sort of living—or perhaps in this case killing—theater. Not much was required for that, save their weapons of choice.

A wide selection waited for them on the wood-paneled walls that encircled them. Dichen wasted no time, grabbing several shurikens and other blades intended for throwing. Shadow already had all her favorite daggers concealed on her body, but she made a show of inspecting the offerings if for no other reason than to study what the others were doing. Ronan, not surprisingly, chose the broadsword strapped to his back, though he also picked up a double-headed axe and slung it through his belt. Aldair made the most shocking selection—choosing a triple-headed flail with nasty-looking spikes. She could only guess what use a blood mage would have for such a specialized weapon, but she was certain she was about to find out.

There was a stretch of anticipation-filled silence as the contestants moved into the center. Once they were all in a loose semicircle, Erebos made a show of slowly settling into his throne. His eyes were pinned on her.

This is what you wanted,he seemed to say.Enjoy it while it lasts.

She lifted her chin.Oh, I will.

Erebos dipped his head in a slow nod, giving Dmitri the signal he’d been waiting for. “Let the battle begin!” the High Lord’s Peacock shouted, throwing his hands into the air.

The crowd went wild, but Shadow barely heard them. Her entire focus was on the woman sprinting straight toward the paneled wall. She saw a blur of red in her periphery as Ronan lunged for Cedric.

Teach them all why you call yourself the Butcher.

Why she was sending any sort of affirmation his way wasn’t quite clear in her mind. It hadn’t been a conscious choice exactly. More a reflex. As nonsensical as it was, she couldn’t help but wish him well. If this was the end, she wanted to be the one to face him. She would give him a death to be proud of. An end befitting a warrior of his station.

Nearing the point where she either needed to stop or run face-first into the wall, Dichen leapt straight up, landing as nimbly as a cat on the thin ledge looping along the top. The people closest to her gasped in shock as she straightened and kept running, selecting one of her silver stars and letting it fly.

So that’s your plan.

It was a smart move for an assassin prone to sneak attacks. Without height or darkness to aid her, range would be her greatest advantage. As would her speed.

Shadow grinned, already anticipating the match. It would be a true test of her skill. A win to be proud of.

She dodged the assassin’s blade, taking off in a sprint of her own, knowing a moving target was far more difficult to hit. Dichen took aim and let two more of her stars fly. One nicked Shadow’s bicep, and the other landed somewhere behind her.

The veiled woman wasn’t the only one with impressive aim. Freeing one of her blades, Shadow anticipated where it needed to be and set it free. It caught Dichen in the thigh, causing her to stumble, but not lose her footing, as she continued sprinting along the top of the ledge that separated the crowd from the center of the arena.

Dichen threw three blades in quick succession. Shadow dodged the first and then caught the others. Dichen’s eyes widened in surprise when Shadow immediately flung them back.

Running out of ledge, Dichen braced herself for a jump that would take her over the sixteen-foot walkway that separated the two halves of the arena to where the ledge picked back up on the other side.

Seeing her opportunity, Shadow pulled two more daggers from their hiding place along her rib cage. Waiting for Dichen to go airborne, she took aim and fired.

There was a collective intake of breath as the crowd waited to see what would happen. Then a startled cry as the hilt of the first blade smashed into Dichen’s temple. The second slicing through the arm she instinctively lifted to protect her face. The shift in her body’s momentum sent Dichen crashing to the ground instead of sailing through the air.

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