This elicited more chuckles from his subjects.
“Of course not,” said Alōs. “But what I meant was, Doesn’t the way you always kill our kind bore you—just as our kind always bores you with our thievery? It sounds like a tedious existence. I would think clever creatures such as yourselves would want more sport from your meals. Especially if you will eventually display us as trophies.”
A dangerous smile edged the old giant’s lips then. “I see you have traveled far into my manor, small one. So tell me, what sport has your skin adding more value to my collection?”
“Let us play for our freedom or to be your food.”
“A game?” the giant mused.
“Yes.” Alōs nodded. “Some entertainment before your possible supper.”
The chief’s eyes shone with delighted curiosity. “And what game is it you’d like to propose?”
“A hunt,” said Alōs. “Set us loose with a quarter–sand fall head start. If we reach the beaches before getting caught by your subjects, we can leave. If we fail, we fill your belly.”
An excited murmur flowed through the room.
“Are you mad?” hissed Niya, stomach dropping. “We would need a half sand fall, at least, to beat their strides.”
The pirate did not look her way, only kept his gaze on the chief, waiting.
“A hunt?” the old giant mused. “Between us and your tiny kind? That is an amusing prospect. But I can think of a situation far more exciting.”
Niya swallowed. What could be more exciting for him than a hunt?
“You fight each other for your freedom.”
“Fight each other?” repeated Niya with a frown.
“Yes, my simple one. No weapons but hands and fists, I think. A way to tenderize your meat for us.”
The room tittered with laughter.
“Whoever knocks down the other first is set free and can tell whatever tale they’d like of our island. But don’t forget to share what happened to your companion who lost . . .” The chief patted his belly.
“That’s a horrible game.” Niya folded her arms over her chest.
“Worse than you both being eaten?” asked the chief.
Niya didn’t reply, for she realized with a wave of cold dread that she didn’t actually know the answer.
“Do we have your word on this bargain?” asked Alōs.
“You cannot seriously be entertaining this?” Niya swung her gaze to him.
But again, he would not look at her.
“Alōs,” she demanded, actually stomping her foot.
“Do we have your word?” he asked the giant again.
“You do,” assured the chief. “My oath as the ruler of my people. The winner will safely be allowed to leave this island.”
“Then you have a fight,” declared Alōs.
The hall erupted in noise and movement, sending Niya’s head momentarily spinning from such large waves of energy.
They were dumped from their cage and then pushed apart.
“Alōs!” She stared in disbelief, entire body vibrating with uncertainty. “What have you done?”
His blue gaze locked on hers, cold and determined. “I have saved one of us.”
“I will not fight you.”
“You must fight, little one,” the chief said from his padded throne beside them. “We have a bargain. A gracious one on my part. I could eat you both, right now, but your companion promised sport, so sport is what you shall provide.”
A wall of giants surrounded them. Eyes blinking down with vicious glee. She saw wooden chips go from hands to pockets, wagers. With her throat tightening, she realized this might be the first bet she had no desire to get in on.
Her gaze settled back on Alōs, standing tall and imposing in front of her. Somewhere in the folds of his clothes was the last piece of the Prism Stone. Their joy of victory had been fleeting.
“Alōs,” she said again, a plea this time.
This could not be their only choice. Every bad situation had many doors to exit through. Arabessa had taught her that. Thinking of her sisters twisted another blade of uncertainty through her. She could not die here. She could not! But neither could she allow Alōs to.
He had Esrom to save. His brother to aid. A ship of pirates to command.
Niya didn’t know what to do. She was stuck, cornered. And at the thought, a ferocious wave of anger rose within her. She loathed being forced into any situation. Somehow she had to regain control.
“Come on, fire dancer, you always talk a big game. Why not show me what you’ve threatened to do to me for so long?” Alōs’s cool words brought her attention back to him, where he began to circle her. “Or is it that when it comes down to it, you lack the conviction to ever really finish what you’ve started?”
Icy annoyance prickled over her skin. “What are you talking about?”
“You have told me many times how you hate me; now is your chance to show me.” He spread his arms wide.
“Stop this.” Niya frowned. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Prove that you are the weakest of the three?” Alōs’s features remained a frozen lake. “The one with the most liability? Tell me, have your sisters ever put your family in as much danger as you have?”
His words fell like lashes to her heart. But she wouldn’t rise to the bait. He was trying to anger her so she would make the first blow. But she couldn’t. They couldn’t. There had to be another way out of this. “Don’t.” She shook her head. “Whatever you are—”
“Did you know”—Alōs prowled closer, a whisper of his breath along her ear—“when I left your rooms those four years ago, after you gave me so many, many precious pieces of you, I immediately sought the bed of another.”
Sharp anger erupted, ferocious, through Niya’s body. Her clenched hands heated.
But she couldn’t reveal her magic. Not now. Not yet. Still, Alōs was toeing too close to a forbidden line. Lies, she thought. These are lies. But the doubts still crept into her heart, wrapped like bladed wire to puncture deep.
“You see,” he continued in a purr, “while you certainly were a delight, my darling, there are some pleasures virgins cannot satiate in a man.”
The room disappeared as a roar broke free from Niya, her fist connecting to jaw.
He stumbled back, head whipping to the side as a distant crowd cheered their excitement.
Niya gulped in breaths full of rage as Alōs rubbed his chin, his turquoise eyes bright, consuming, behind his mask of cool as he glanced back at her.
“You call that a punch?” he taunted. “No wonder you rely so heavily on”—his gaze roamed her body—“other things.”
“Stop!” Niya stomped forward, shoving him. “Don’t do it like this. If you want a fight”—Niya pushed again—“then fight back!”
“But I would win entirely too quickly that way,” crooned Alōs. “It appears I share a similar trait with our audience: I like to play with my food.”
The chief’s laughter echoed toward them. “Who knew our unwanted guests could be so very entertaining!”
His subjects shouted their agreement.
Niya shook her head, trying to clear away her surging desire to burn. But it spun hot, searing deep into her belly. Reactionary fire. Let us out, her magic crooned. Let us cook him, burn him, eat his flesh from bone.
“I wonder if any of my crew will even notice your absence?” Alōs taunted. “So many thought you useless, after all.”
“Lies,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “You are filled with nothing but lies this night!”
“And you cowardice,” he spat back. “Tell me, honestly, have you ever been able to find another who fills you with as much feeling as I? Or who has filled you so thoroughly as I?”
The echoing of crude jeers erupted all around as Niya finally snapped. She landed a new blow, then another and another. Left cheek, right, upper jaw. None Alōs attempted to block.
“Hit me!” screamed Niya as she pounded against Alōs’s chest, broken skin along her knuckles stinging. “Who is the coward now? Hit me!”
“I am, my sweet.” He looked down his nose at her. “I’m hitting you with the truth. The truth of how inconsequential you are.”
“More lies!” She spun, kicking him in the side.
He stumbled.
The room held its breath along with Niya.