Page 212 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
‘Leave him be,’ Elowen said.
Rowan glanced at her.
‘Whatever he’s been through,’ she continued, ‘it’s up to him to decide what to share, and when.’
‘But I—’
‘Leave him be.’ She gave him a firm look before turning and following the others.
Rowan scratched the back of his neck.
He was certain the wolverian child was hiding something but he had no idea what. Perhaps Elowen was right. Perhaps Edur would speak when he was ready.
Not when Rowan decided the moment had come.
Unfortunately, patience had never been one of Rowan’s greatest virtues.
‘Hey, wait up!’ he called after them, hurrying to catch up with the group.
In several lands, a brutal spectacle has taken root. Arenas where creatures are cast into pits, beneath eager crowds. Among these, the witches were particularly renowned, their arenas whispered of in equal parts awe and dread. The drakonians, in their ruthless splendour, would set their dragons upon one another, revelling as the great beasts tore scale from flesh in savage duels. And in the burning reaches of the desert, such cruel festivities were not merely accepted, but celebrated with a fervour as relentless as the sun itself.
Tabitha Wysteria
Kai and Dawn had followed Mareena up to the first floor, where spectators of rank were permitted to watch the fights. This level was usually reserved for the wealthiest visitors of the city, as well as the royal family themselves. To their right, King Siroc sat with his son Zaydan and the Saqar, all of them observing the arena below with grave attention.
Each tier of the arena had been fitted with wide cloth awnings to shield the spectators from the sun. Though, standing so deep within the carved heart of the mountain, Kai doubted such protection was truly necessary. Still, the fabric stirred faintly above them, casting shifting shadows across the stone.
Below, they watched as Alina circled Saren, the Dunayanspeaking as she moved, clearly taunting the Fire Princess with every step. Even from the first floor it was impossible to hear what passed between them. Yet when Kai glanced at Mareena, he noticed that the phoenixian princess seemed to understand perfectly well.
Her eyes never left the arena.
Kai suspected she could read their lips.
When Saren forced Alina to the ground and dragged the blade across her face, Kai shot to his feet. In a few quick strides he reached the iron railing that kept spectators from plunging into the arena below. For a fleeting, reckless moment he considered vaulting over it.
His entire body screamed at him to go to her. But he knew Alina would never forgive him if he interfered.
Even so, it took every ounce of strength he possessed not to leap down into the sand.
It was only when Dawn grasped his arm and gently guided him back to his seat that he managed to force himself to sit again.
He took her hand and squeezed it tightly.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kai also noticed how Dawn’s other hand had curled into a fist, her nails digging hard into the palm of her skin.
‘What happens if she loses?’ Dawn asked quietly.
Kai still found it strange to look at her in this form, the form of a wyverian woman. A part of him doubted he would ever grow entirely comfortable with it, nor did he wish to. Yet he had grown used to something else entirely: the ease he felt beside her, no matter the shape she wore.
‘She will not,’ Mareena said calmly, folding her hands across her lap with a composure no one else in that arena seemed capable of achieving.
‘And how can you be so certain?’ Kai asked.
Mareena sighed, the sound edged with the familiar impatience she reserved for those she considered intellectually inferior.
‘Phoenixians have always prided themselves on choosing their wars carefully, Kai Blackburn.’
Kai frowned, still not following.
