Loose Changeling: A Changeling Wars Novel (26 page)

Did he expect me to kill him, or was he merely sympathizing with my plight, thereby engendering more sympathy in me and making it harder for me to make a killing blow? I wasn't sure if it was the former or the latter. I feared both.

I couldn't fear. I had to be a weapon, as deadly and unthinking as the sword itself. I grabbed for one of the wooden blocks as the same time Haldor extended his hand.

I'd meant to create another wall, but the Guardian was too quick for me. He tossed a ball of fire into the air, and it burned the wooden block to ashes before I could transform it. He was nearby, close enough. Before the ashes could hit the ground, I seized the perfume bottle and sprayed the air. With a huff of breath, I sent the droplets in Haldor's direction and changed them into acid.

He pulled the glass sphere free from his belt and dashed it on the ground. Smoke curled from the broken sphere, lifted into the air, forming a shape. The acid drifted toward it.

The smoke solidified from the ground up. Shimmering green scales, silver talons, a long and sinuous neck. Two webbed wings folded over its lizard-like body, large as a Clydesdale horse and just as heavily muscled.

A dragon.

As it finished forming, the acid hit it in the side. It tipped its head back and screeched—a sound halfway between the cawing of a crow and the strangled cries of fighting cats. I started to lift my hands to cover my ears and saw my sword in one hand. I had to fight. Fight or die.

The dragon pivoted toward the source of the acid. Me. Its feline eyes narrowed, it crouched and then launched itself into the air. The Sidhe in the stands ducked, unwilling to become targets of the dragon's wrath.

Ice crept along the Arena floor toward my position.

“Come
on
!” I cried out.

“You now have a sword that cuts through shields and armor,” Haldor said. He backed away, putting distance between me and him. “I have a dragon.”

I had to get creative, and I had to think. Neither of which I had a ton of time for. I had so few things left to transform.

The scarf.

It still lay in the center of the Arena, in the direction the ice came from. I didn't have much choice. I dashed toward it, ignoring the frost that Haldor grew into a glistening wave. Above me, the beat of wings sent rushes of air across my face. What could a real, live dragon do? Were the stories true? Did they eat princesses and breathe fire?

Focus. The scarf. The red cloth stood like a beacon against the white stone. I had to reach it before the ice overtook me. I breathed in, breathed out Talent, speeding my steps. The smell of dark chocolate hung thick in the air. I didn't look at the dragon anymore, or the oncoming ice. Just stared at the scarf, growing closer and closer, more real.

I snatched it, flung the bit of cloth over my head, and transformed it.

No longer a red scarf, but a structure of glass, large as an outhouse, covering and surrounding me.

The dragon opened its mouth. The ice wave approached.

The ice covered my glass structure in crystals. Almost as soon as this happened, fire rained down upon me from the dragon’s mouth. It melted most of the ice, though not all of it. Haldor added more on top of where it had melted.

I frowned. Why would he do that unless he wanted to protect me from the dragon’s flames? I checked my glass structure. It had already begun to crack, but ice filled the gaps.

Air. I hadn’t given myself any means of getting more air. How long would the air from an outhouse-sized structure last? And yet, if I left, I’d be vulnerable to both the dragon and the ice.

“Think, Nicole, think.” I had a scarf, a perfume bottle, a coaster, and a sword that could cut through almost anything. This sounded like one of those lousy puzzles people try to make you answer to prove how smart you are. Mark hadn’t taught me about fighting more than one opponent at once. “The dragon first, then Haldor,” I whispered. Did the air already feel stuffy, or was it my imagination?

I transformed the coaster into a shield. The perfume bottle I transformed into padded cloth, something like an oversized oven mitt, and placed it between the shield and my arm. I wouldn’t have much time for my next move. I’d have to be quick. I tightened my grip on both sword and shield. Then I reached out, touched the glass wall, and transformed the scarf into a five-gallon bucket. I hooked it onto my arm, using Talent-enhanced speed. The ice crashed down. I lifted the sword and sliced, again and again.

The ice gave way before the blade and I hauled myself out. The dragon circled overhead again. I glanced to my left. Haldor stood with sword and his half-shield in hand. To my satisfaction, sweat poured down his brow. This fight had cost him.

Step one, accomplished. Next step, distracting Haldor.

I tucked the sword into my belt and leaned the shield against my knees. I stripped off my shirt and was met with jeers and catcalls from the crowd. Sidhe—not too different from humans sometimes. My sports bra covered my chest, so it wasn’t as if I was naked. I concentrated, breathed out my magic, and turned the shirt into a net of iron strands.

Haldor appeared too startled for a moment by my sudden lack of dress to notice what I’d done. I grabbed the shield in one hand, the net in the other, and dashed toward him. Above me, the dragon’s wings beat, sending a breeze against my neck. Haldor glanced up and then at me, his eyes widening. He turned and ran.

Ah, so his beast wasn’t as tame as he’d like me to believe, was it? The dragon may have been set upon me, but it seemed as though it didn’t care very much about collateral damage, either.

Haldor wasn’t Talented in sword fighting. I enhanced my speed, gaining on him, trying to ignore the feeling of the dragon at my back, hoping that it wouldn’t choose this moment to unleash its fire upon me.

Now or never.

I lifted the net and threw, enhancing my strength as I did so. It flew over the Guardian, sending him stumbling. I didn’t wait around to see how that worked out. I had a dragon to ground.

I turned just in time to see the dragon open its mouth.

“Shit!” I managed before the fire billowed toward me. I lifted my shield and ducked behind it. The fire hit it full force, pushing me back. It licked around the edges, singeing my hair and arms. But the metal and the padding did their work, keeping me from any real harm. It gave me a second to think. How smart were dragons, anyways? When the onslaught had died down, I lifted my head. “Come down and fight me, you overgrown lizard!”

The dragon’s feline eyes narrowed. It dropped onto the Arena floor, its silver claws clicking against the stone. Well, that had been easier than I expected. Behind me, Haldor’s hill of ice continued to melt, forming puddles of water on the floor. Keeping my eyes on the dragon, I grabbed chunk after chunk of ice, dumping it in the bucket I’d created. My shield wobbled on my arm as the dragon stalked closer. I was sure I’d had stupider ideas, but I certainly couldn’t think of them now.

The dragon opened its mouth. In the depths of its throat, the fire roared.

Now.

I dashed forward and flung the ice into its mouth. For a second I thought it hadn’t worked. Then the dragon closed its mouth, steam rising from its nostrils. It choked, swallowed, and began to cough, sounding like nothing so much as a cat with a hairball.

Haldor still struggled beneath the net, trying to free himself from the iron strands. Time to finish this. I slung the shield over my back, strode over to him, and lifted Kailen’s sword.

Haldor tried to bring his sword to bear, but both he and I knew he wouldn’t make it in time. I had to do this. It was me or Haldor, no other choice. I closed my eyes.

The bell sounded.

Really?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

My gaze found Grian in the audience. I wasn’t wearing a watch, but I thought the bell had tolled sooner than it had in the last round. She had that small, self-satisfied smile on her lips and I remembered what Kailen had said. Grian had her hands in everything.

The crowd booed and jeered as Haldor and I headed to our respective resting areas. They’d seen death close in twice, and hadn’t been rewarded. Well, tough luck for them. This whole fight-to-the-death thing might be normal for the Sidhe, but I was raised among humans. I wasn’t so sure about it. I didn’t want another man’s blood on my hands, not even one of the Fae. And now that I felt more confident I could win, I started to question the necessity of a death.

We’d made a pact with the Arbiter. Could it be unmade?

The Arbiter waited for me in the resting chamber. I sat on a bench against the wall and leaned back, my gaze on the white globes of light. “I don’t want to do it,” I said to him.

“Who says you will win?”

I gave him a long look.

“If you do not kill him, he will kill you,” he said.

“Can the pact be unmade? Can I spare him and walk free?”

“Absolutely not.”

I thought about this for a moment. “What if I made a new pact with you?”

His eyes gleamed from beneath his hood. “What sort of pact?”

What did the Arbiter want? “The doorways that are opening, does anyone know why?”

“No.”

“What if I found out what was causing it?”

His lips curved into a smile. “That may be acceptable. There are always terms, however, Nicole.” He drew close to me, until I had to crane my neck to look into his face. “You must complete this task within two weeks, mortal time, and you’ll provide me with proof. If you do not, I will take your life as compensation.”

“A month,” I countered. “And I want the chance to earn legal status.”

“Done,” said the Arbiter.

For a moment I wondered if I was doing something incredibly stupid. But my ice in the dragon’s mouth idea, stupid though it was, had worked. Maybe I was on a roll. I would have knocked on wood if there’d been any in the room, instead of just cold stone.

“Then I can bring Haldor to a yielding position, and Grian will crown me the victor.”

“Oh, Nicole.” The Arbiter shook his head. “You have only bargained with me, not Grian. Whether or not the Sidhe accept Haldor’s yielding as your victory is not a matter between you and me. That is between you and the Sidhe.”

I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my frustration. I’d heard the roar and the jeers of the crowd. People didn’t generally go away satisfied from a game that had been played to a draw. I didn’t imagine the Sidhe would be happy until one of us was dead. I had to find a way to sway the crowd. If I could do that, I was sure Grian would follow.

Too soon, the bell rang again. I hauled myself to my feet, my toes now numb, and headed to the door.

“A month,” the Arbiter said, his voice a whisper. “Do not forget, Nicole.” Clearly the Arbiter didn’t know much about people. It’d be sort of hard to forget I had death breathing down the back of my neck, with only a month to find out what was causing the doorways to open.

The dragon had been cleared from the Arena, as well as the ice and the iron net. Haldor strode out of his door on the other side of the Arena, looking just as haggard as I felt. He’d discarded his shield and now held only his sword. His armor, too, he’d left behind. We moved to our spots at the center and waited.

“It has been a good fight,” Haldor said. Above us, Grian rose to her feet, and the crowd quieted. “I’ve seen Merlin fight. There is something of him in your manner, though your Talents differ. It would not shame me to die by your hand, though I fear the consequences.”

The consequences? The image of the man’s face flashed in my mind again, the one that looked so much like Haldor. He didn’t trust Grian. “She has someone,” I said, grasping onto this, “someone you love.” Grian flung the red kerchief into the Arena.

His grim expression cracked. “My brother. She says he stole from her, but it’s not true. I thought if I killed you, she might let him go.”

Renewed confidence spread through me, like hot chocolate on a cold winter day. I’d made a good decision, making that bargain with the Arbiter. Killing Haldor would not be something I’d have lived with easily. “You’re a good man,” I said, “or so I’ve been told. I believe it now.”

The red handkerchief drifted between us. It brushed the floor.

I lifted Kailen’s sword and met Haldor’s with a clash. No more tricks, no more dragons or transformations. Just his blade against mine. Neither of us had time to stop and consider any other options. Though exhaustion dogged my heels, and I was hungry enough to eat an entire pizza on my own, I pushed hard, throwing every last bit of Talent I had into my swordplay. Tristan needed me. Lainey needed me. I had to set right the things I’d done wrong, merely by existing.

A slip to the side, a slash, a parry, and a thrust. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to keep pace with me. He grimaced each time our blades met. We moved across the Arena floor as I pushed Haldor toward the wall. He tried to dodge to the side, to get out from under my blade, but I darted with him, caught his shoulder with the edge of Kailen's sword.

Blood sprang from the wound, darkening the off-white of his shirt. Both Haldor and the crowd drew in a collective breath—Haldor in pain, the crowd in anticipation.

I stood there, numb for a moment. First blood, by my hand. The Guardian took the opportunity to slash at me. I jumped back, giving ground, raising my sword automatically. I blocked his blade, but only just in time. I couldn't let myself get distracted by the vagaries of battle. The fighting was in my blood; I just had to let it take over, to forget, for a moment, my bargain with The Arbiter, forget how tired I felt.

Haldor thrust, trying to work a way around my guard. I danced to the side and swatted at his blade, putting him off balance. I struck him with the flat of my sword, tipping him to the point he had to put a foot out to catch himself.

Now. With two more swipes, I numbed his fingers and struck the sword from his grip. The roaring of the crowd ceased, making me feel as though I'd suddenly gone deaf. The sound of Haldor's sword striking the floor rung in my ears.