The other riders already soared through the air, showing off by turning flips and racing around the peak. Bael flew in a lazy circle around the perimeter, apparently unconcerned with showboating.
Arcing closer, Ursula glanced down at the crater. A vast sea of Brethren swarmed around the spire’s base. Unlike the arena at Lacus Mortis, this venue stood right in the center of the Shadow Realm. Anyone in the entire kingdom could get there—and it appeared the entire kingdom had, in fact, showed up to watch the champions die.
A loud crash rang through the air, reverberating through her gut. Hothgar’s gong. Things are about to get started.
Hothgar raised his hands to the sky, his dark magic swirling around his body. As he spoke, his voice boomed over the crater. “The sun has nearly reached its zenith. The riders must approach the dock.”
Ursula’s heart was beating so hard, it threatened to break her ribs, but she gently guided Sotz lower, joining the line of riders on the dock. As she flew closer, she could see that the starting positions on the dock alternated directions—some facing clockwise, and some counterclockwise. Apparently, these would be the two groups.
She picked out Bael’s muscled form at the end of the dock, facing clockwise. Her pulse racing, she angled Sotz lower to the dock. As she approached, her pulse racing, she was gripped by the terrifying fear that she’d overshoot the bloody thing entirely.
At the last moment, Sotz skidded to a halt, clinging on to the dock’s edge. At his clumsy landing, she lurched forward, grunting, before regaining her balance. Sotz inched back, and Ursula took a deep breath, surveying her competition.
She’d landed between a lanky demon with a narrow mustache, and a noseless creature with skin the color of ice. The iceman turned to glare at her, growling.
Leaning forward, she glanced down the row again at Bael. They faced the same direction. In theory, she could follow behind him—assuming he really meant to help her.
At the end of the dock, Hothgar stalked closer, his dark eyes gleaming in the sunlight like black pearls. “Ah, Emerazel’s dog. I realize a bitch like you is used to riding your way to the top, but you won’t be doing it by opening your legs today.”
She snarled at him. “Don’t you have some unfortunate dolls you need to seduce in your temple?”
Hothgar’s eyes flashed with rage. The lanky man to her right barked a laugh. Ursula shot a quick glance at Viking, who laughed behind her hand. Suddenly, she was glad she’d brought the katana. She wanted to show the city what a woman could do—that they didn’t need to submit to their men because they were weak.
As her muscles tensed, ready for battle, Ursula tried to flash her bravest smile at Hothgar’s wife.
Above the spire, the sun blazed bright—right above the peak. A cold sweat broke out on her brow. She swallowed hard, tightening her grip on Sotz, feeling his heart thumping through his fur. As she leaned forward, she surveyed the riders once more. Each demon dressed in muted shades of gray, blue, and black—some in furs and armor. Only one rider stood out—the Gray Ghost, draped in white, his face covered by a scarf.
At the end of the line, Bael wore his black fighting gear, his lion pendant glinting in the sun. He faced forward, his grip tight on a long lance.
In a race like this, a long weapon like a lance was a huge advantage. Might have been nice to train with one.
Hothgar’s voice boomed, “The race will commence when I sound the gong, at the sun’s zenith.”
Ursula’s blood roared in her ears. Her palms were sweating so much, she wasn’t sure she could keep hold of Sotz’s fur. Her eyes wandered to the crater’s floor, hundreds of feet below. What would a body look like if it fell from this height?
The pause that followed seemed to stretch for eternity, and Ursula closed her eyes, trying to marshal control over herself, trying not to picture the explosion of guts from a person’s mouth.
At last, the gong crashed, reverberating around the crater. She tightened her thighs on Sotz.
Sotz launched into the air.
Around her, the riders soared, the wings of their bat beating the air. Ursula leaned down, urging Sotz forward. As they arced around the spire, she fell slightly behind the rest of the pack, and she stared at the back of Flesh Scales. There was no shame in hanging behind the others. If this was a fight to the death, might as well let the front of the pack take the brunt of the attack.
The crowd below cheered, and her heart pumped harder. The other half of the champions must be close.
They burst into view, weapons glinting in the sun.
Ahead of her, Bael and the other riders spurred their bats to a faster pace, and the two camps collided in clashes of steel. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Bael’s lance punching straight through a demon’s chest.
Keeping out of weapons’ range, Ursula watched two bodies fall to the crater’s floor, leaving puffs of smoke just like little meteorites.
“Two kills!” the announcer shouted. “Ten remain!”