“My arena is for warriors and champions, and she is neither,” he replied. “Fighting is a privilege that must be earned through a show of strength.”
He tapped his fingers on the icy throne, the sapphire ring glinting in the light. The shadows in the ice shifted.
“She must be tested,” said a voice that resonated in my head like a thousand chiming bells, excruciatingly loud. From what I could see, no one in the room showed signs that they had heard anything at all. The king’s head was cocked slightly.
“She must be tested,” the king repeated. He lifted his hand and made a careless gesture in my direction. The cold rushed away, leaving me boneless. “Take her to Gulzar. If she survives the beast, perhaps I’ll consider allowing her into my arena. If not, at least my pet will have a hot meal.”
The captain laughed and bowed low, then put a hand to the back of my neck and pushed me down.
“Your benevolent ruler just spared your life, Firefilth,” he hissed into my ear. “Show your gratitude.”
I stared at the floor, my mouth tight. There wasn’t a scrap of gratitude in me.
“Thank him!” he ordered. Although I wanted nothing more than to blast the captain with flames, there was still the sense that my heat seeped from my body, dripping to the floor like blood. My head grew light. If I stayed much longer, I would lose consciousness. The king would declare me weak and I would lose any chance to prove myself.
“Thank you,” I forced out through clenched teeth.
I was yanked up and spun around, then half marched, half dragged toward the arched doorway.
“There is something different about that one,” said the voice of a thousand chiming bells. I spun around to see who was speaking and saw only the king, his eyes blacker than tar. I turned away, but I felt his narrow-eyed stare press on me as I was led from the room.
EIGHTEEN
“THE BEAST HAS LONG ARMS,” SAID one of the guards in a glib tone, his face pressed to the steel bars above my head. “Best to stay out of reach.”
I had been thrust into a dark underground space, a roughly round room made of stone. Ice coated one wall. The only light came from an opening overhead. The smiling faces of a cluster of guards stared down.
“And should I stay away from its mouth, too?” I mocked, struggling to cover my fear. “Or curtsy and welcome it to pick its teeth with me?”
“You do look a bit like a toothpick,” he said with a wide grin.
The heat that had been suppressed in the throne room rose to the surface. I lifted a hand to roast him with a carefully aimed spiral of fire when the floor shook.
Then another sound, quieter but far more alarming. Great puffs of air, as if they had come from a large bellows.
Breathing. Sniffing. The shuffle of feet.
Terror sharpened my senses. I crouched in the ready position that Brother Thistle had taught me. In my mind, I heard him say that fighting is first about calming and focusing the mind. I took several long, shuddering breaths.
A hook high on the wall held four long chains. I ran to them and pulled myself up using footholds in the wall. I managed to get several feet off the ground. Relief pulsed through me. Much better than being on the floor.
The beast came into view, a lighter shadow in the tunnel beyond the gate. Its body was shaggy and thick with a dirty, ragged coat that might once have been white but was now a muddy gray. Here and there, tufts of matted fur formed ridges that stuck out at odd angles. Its nose traced the floor, its humped back reaching halfway to the ceiling, each padded foot leaving an oval of sparkling ice in its wake. It sniffed and shuffled, following an invisible line of scent to the spot where I had just stood, then lifted its huge head and looked around.
I wasn’t high enough on the wall, not nearly. Even the ceiling wouldn’t be out of its reach. A long arm with razorlike claws took a tentative swipe in my direction.
A rough chuckle came from above my head.
“I warned you about its arms,” said the guard cheerily.
“Shut up,” I snarled, pushing off the wall with my feet while holding the chain and flying toward the beast’s outstretched paw. It was like kicking a boulder. I yelped and fell to the ground, rolling out of reach.
The beast turned and lumbered after me, huge and slow but determined, plumes of frost curling from its open mouth. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to get momentum or to take a breath of rest. I backed toward the open gate.
The guard’s voice came down again. “There’s nothing back there unless you fancy a pile of bones.”
I believed him. There would be no way out.