I wasn’t the only one with a confused expression as we entered the Sacred Sand arena. A lot of the sols were half-dressed, some still pulling on their outfits as they took their seats. The Abcurses led me back to the same area we had sat in last time, all of them moving into the same row.
I, on the other hand, did not take my seat in the blood bath section. No thank you. This time I was going to keep my pretty dress free from all bodily fluids—mostly the blood kind, but also every other kind, just to be safe. I glanced down the new dress that Siret had designed for me. It was once again purple and fitted, the material soft and flimsy as it hugged my body. There were two layers to the dress—the first a kind of silk, and the second a softer, more velvety texture. The silk part actually fit like a bodysuit, forming tight shorts beneath the velvety section, which fell down in a short skirt. I had on high leather boots with a flat heel, which were probably the softest shoe I had ever worn. My mother might have been skilled, but she was not Trickery-skilled.
Siret, who clearly loved the colour purple, had actually fashioned me something I could move and fight easily in this time—and yet it still looked appropriate for a dweller. The dwellers often wore shorts and skirts instead of the longer robes of the sols. Material—especially nice material—could be expensive. The sol women who were fighting had all dressed in battle gear, but I suppose it would have been presumptuous to dress me in battle gear. That was practically asking for trouble … though the fact that Siret had accommodated for a fight was not a good sign. Which one of the brothers would they expect me to face if they called me into the arena again?
“You okay, Willa?” The voice startled me out of my panicked worry, and I lifted my head to find a mountain beside me.
“Oh, hey Dru,” I said, smiling at the massive sol. My smile only broadened when I noticed that we suddenly had the attention of five gods as they turned as a single group, crossing their arms, and staring us down. Even though all five of them were on a level below the one I stood on, they were still almost equal in height to me.
Aros’s fiery golden eyes burned a hole through me, and something in my centre started to heat. He tilted his head back and I could feel him calling me, urging me to go to them. Digging my nails into my bare arms, I shook my head a few times.
“You picked the worst seats,” I basically shouted. “I don’t want to sit in the blood bath section.”
Dru chuckled beside me, the sound drifting lazily to my ears. “This is definitely a more beneficial row of seats. You might just get a sexy slave in your lap, instead of a severed head.”
Before I could reply, Dru was gone from my side. I started to blink rapidly as I swivelled my head around, trying to figure out what just happened.
Where did he disappear to?
A heavy thump drew my attention to the middle of the arena. I barely managed to stifle my gasp as I spotted Dru sprawled out across the middle of the sands, half up on his hands and knees, shaking his head back and forth as if trying to clear it.
A shout came from the Gamemaster, who was a different sol than last time. This one had long braided red hair, wore an elaborate metal chest piece, and was quite the little sprinter. He dashed across the arena and tried to haul the mountain up.
I could hear him shouting from where I sat. “On your feet! You’re not allowed in here!”
While the Gamemaster had his little breakdown, and a dazed Dru tried to stumble out of the arena, I turned squinty eyes on the five asshole-gods who were still standing in their row, waiting for me to sit down.
“Which one of you … how the hell did you … Argh!”
I threw my hands up and deliberately took a seat two rows back from them. I dropped down heavily, crossed my arms over my chest, and dared any of them to force me to move. I would cut them. With the knife I did not currently have in my possession.
Little help for once, Gods!
Another shriek escaped me as a heavy blade fell into my hands. I jumped up and out of my seat in a flash, turning to give it an accusatory stare. I was pretty sure the seat wasn’t a magical, knife-gifting seat, but I just wanted to check anyway. When it didn’t immediately return my stare, or say anything—instead remaining where it was, like a perfectly normal seat—I turned my head up toward the darkened box which held and hid the gods during arena battles. I wasn’t sure that any of them would be there, since we were only mid-moon-cycle. I thought this was something to do with the sols, but apparently it wasn’t. The gods had decided to up their game.
Or one god at least.
Two guesses which one.
“Willa, why are you holding a blade of Crowe?” Aros barely even startled me as he appeared by my side. Siret was there too, somehow. The others remained on their lower level, but they were keeping a close eye on me.
I finally lifted the weapon to see it clearly. It was heavy and gold, with swirls of a shimmery copper metal spanning the handle. The blade itself started off thick and tapered to a deadly-looking point right at the end. The point was also shimmery—it looked nothing like any blade I had seen before.
“Rocks!” It was Yael this time, and I lifted my head to meet his tumultuous eyes. The greens and golds were swirling in a crazy pattern.
“Gift from the gods,” I said weakly, attempting a smile.
Yael jumped the two rows of seats and then his feet were directly in front of mine and our bodies were pretty much pressed together. “The gods never give gifts without expecting something in return.”
I swallowed hard. “Oh, I’m sure they want something from me, those bastards have never listened to me. For eighteen life-cycles I’ve tried a variety of ways to both curse and beg them, and nothing. Then right now I think about needing a blade to stab you idiots, and one appears in my hand.”
Rome let out a deep laugh, the sound filling the air around us and distracting me from my confusion. “So many gods would be delighted if you stabbed us. A blade of Crowe is one of the few things which can kill a god. Kill them permanently.”
Blood drained from my face as I looked between the five of them. With trembling hands, I held the blade out and let it rest on my palms. “Please take this right now, before someone accidentally dies. Take it!”
Aros lifted the heavy piece from me, and it was gone in a flash. I didn’t see him put it in his pocket or anything, nope, just whoosh and gone.
“Soldier …” Siret suddenly had my full attention. “Why can’t we hear your thoughts any longer?”
I shook my head. “What are you talking about? I haven’t figured out how to block you out.”
Coen and Rome were doing some sort of twin communication thing in their row, before both of them faced me.
Yael was still staring at me. “We haven’t really heard you for a while now, a bit here and there, but nothing like we used to. We’ve been waiting to see if it develops into a pattern of some kind.”
What the actual fuck?