Page 96 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
A bell rang, and immediately I was surrounded, everyone shifting into fighting stances, rocking their weight back and forth on their heels.
I held up my arms, forcing my hands into fists. I remembered to put my thumb over my fingers, but that was all I had. I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting, sweat rolling down the back of my neck and beading across my forehead.
Rhyan had said I had strength, my own kind of strength, but I didn’t know what that meant. More importantly, I didn’t know how to use it.
There was a shout from the stands: “Batavia!” It was condescending. A call to attack, not in support.
I looked up to see who’d yelled and immediately regretted my decision. The call was answered by several wolves howling.
“Silence,” yelled Dairen, but the very little amount of concentration I had was already gone.
Someone hit me from behind. I collapsed on the ground, my body completely giving out. I barely had a chance to get myself up before I was surrounded with no space to breathe. I couldn’t even distinguish who stood where, they were so close, their sandals all right in front of my face in a sea of marching leather.
I started to stand, but another blow to my back forced me down, followed by a hand on my head, pressing my cheek into the dirt.
A horn blew. “Below the neck only!” Dairen shouted.
I swiped at the set of legs in front of me, scratching with my nails across their skin.
Whoever it was cursed and jumped back. It was just enough of a window for me to roll back onto my feet and duck beneath the arm of the soturion from Ka Kormac. I raced to the edge of the circle, but the bastard was faster and on top of me in seconds. I sped up, heart pounding, and stopped just a few feet from the binding, ducking low. He ran ahead, his entire body slamming into silver light.
The magic hummed as it connected to him, its sparks erupting into fireworks.
“Fuck!” he screamed. “Fuck!” He turned around, blowing on his hands. The magic of the binding was cold—Rhyan had saidice cold, but he’d left out the part about it being so cold it burned if you ran into it.
Fury lit in the soturion’s black, beady eyes. He rushed at me.
Spinning on my heels, I ran straight for Tani, Viktor’s soturion breathing down the back of my neck. I was already out of breath, and a cramp was forming in my side. I couldn’t keep this up. I wasn’t going to last long in here, not when facing five. Tani held her arms out for me.
I dodged and ran. Viktor’s soturion slammed into the binding again, roaring in pain and frustration. Tani leapt away from the silver, worry in her expression. Maybe that was the strength Rhyan thought I had. Observation.
I could always spot soturi in the city and countryside in their camouflage. I always sensed where people were, when they were watching. The warrior from Ka Kormac had no finesse or skills, just brute strength. He was too focused on getting a hit on me that he’d already run into the binding twice. Now Tani appeared afraid of it. I could use that to my advantage—I could stay close to the inner wall and let the ice kiss my skin, knowing the others were now determined to avoid it.
So I ran, my body all but hugging the humming silver ring. This worked for about a minute, but despite her horrible taste in nobility, Tani figured out my ploy. She backed up, waiting for me to reach her. I could either crash into her, face the wrath and pain of the binding, or move back into the center.
I had no choice. I turned, just barely dodging past the Kormac soturion, and doubling back.
I ran right into the blonde girl from Damara. I spun around, but I was losing energy and starting to get dizzy. She grabbed me from behind, her arms impossibly strong, locking around my belly.
“Let go!” I yelled.
“Make me,” she whispered in my ear. “Asherah.”
Before I could react, she grabbed my cloak and pulled, covering my head with its excess length. I couldn’t see. I could barely breathe.
My body was too hot and all at once too cold. Panic set in.
My breath came short; I was shoved to the ground. I stopped trying to fight back in order to protect myself.
Then the kicks came.
The first kick to my hip knocked the breath out of me. I wheezed, my limbs splaying across the floor. Then more came, each followed by an insult.
“Asherah.” Kick.
“False heir.” Kick.
“Fake Lumerian!” Kick.
