18. Abigail

18

ABIGAIL

T he bell chimed, and the two warriors charged. I set down the glass I'd been fidgeting with and tried to keep my hands shaking from being visible. Clasping them behind my back felt odd and awkward.

Holding them in front of me seemed weirdly formal. And the maker-printed dress I wore had no pockets, of course.

And if you think I was avoiding thinking about the fight going on in the arena below me, then you're damned right.

"Your orc is putting on a good show," Vaher said, popping a sliver of something blue and crunchy into his mouth. "Pity, really. He's got a lot of talent, a shame I won't be making any money off him after this."

One way or another, that's true. I didn't trust myself to say anything, so I made a noncommital noise and hoped that would do. It was a safe bet. Vaher didn't talk to hear someone else's voice.

All around the crowd let out a gasp of surprise, and I couldn't help myself. I looked out in time to catch the slow motion hologram replay of Korsar charging, Gragash caught out by his surprising turn of speed, only to throw himself under the Drall. Lightning cracked in the dust cloud the Drall kicked up, and the monster stumbled and fell. Both rose as the dust settled, neither quite as graceful as they'd been before the clash.

I looked away from the next exchange, then peeked out to see Gragash pulling himself to his feet again. Korsar circled him, careful not to get too close. At least Gragash had frightened him. It wasn't much, but I'd take what hope I found.

Korsar charged, then dropped and skidded across the sand, taking Gragash by surprise. He got a solid punch in, but the impact sent him flying against the arena wall, and while he pulled himself to his feet, Korsar bounced up and charged again. I saw what would happen as plain as anything.

The Drall would take a hit, but he'd crush Gragash between his weight and the unyielding wall. Slowed as he was, Gragash wouldn't get out of the way in time.

I couldn't watch this. I had to watch it.

Only a few days ago, Vaher threw me to Gragash as a treat, expecting me to die. Now I couldn't imagine life without my orc lover, and my heart stopped as Korsar slammed into him. All around us, the crowd went wild, the rich and famous leaning out of their boxes to scream and cheer for the bloody death of an orc who was a better person than any ten of them put together. If looks could kill, I'd have scythed the arena in half with mine.

Korsar screamed too, not in triumph but in pain and frustration. I looked down and gasped—Gragash had dodged the crushing charge the only way he could. He'd gone up, landing on the Drall's back and riding him like a bucking stallion.

His leg was trapped between Korsar and the wall, leaving a bloody smear as the huge alien tried to shake him off. The orc hung on grimly, hands digging into the Drall's neck, and turned his face up toward me.

Agony written into every line of his expression, but his eyes showed something else. I felt the impact of his love struck my heart like a hammer, the only surrender he'd ever make. For me, those dark eyes said he'd give up everything, even his life.

But I didn't want him to die for me. I needed him to live for me. I nodded.

Korsar twisted to bite, and Gragash struck, driving his gauntleted fist into the Drall's open mouth. Lightning cracked, the big alien bucked, smoke rising from his lips as he tumbled to the sand.

Flung free by the fall, Gragash rolled and tried to get to his feet, but his crushed leg wouldn't support his weight. The arena fell silent as he rose, then fell again. But he was moving.

His opponent wasn't.

He'd won.

I vaulted out of the box, landing hard on the packed sand of the arena. Pain flashed through me, my ankle twisting on impact. I ignored that and ran for my orc.

Behind me, chaos. I glanced back to see Ty'anii, caught by surprise as much as anyone, trying to give chase. As she reached the railing, though, Jarchess hit her in a blur of green, and the two of them tumbled out of view. Vaher lurched to his feet, red face pale, scrambling for something to say or do. Anything that would ward off the Guildfather's inevitable revenge.

I wanted to laugh, to tell him I'd take care of that for him. Instead, I put my head down and ran into Gragash's powerful arms. He swept me into a kiss, not caring that hundreds, maybe thousands, were watching. Above us, a hologram bloomed, showing our embrace. My prayers were answered.

I raised my hand over my head, palm upward, and hit play.

"Gragash must lose. Arrange it and I'll pay you well for your trouble and discretion." The Guildfather's thin voice, instantly recognizable, boomed through the arena. The giant hologram of him forcing Vaher into fixing the fight played out overhead.

Shocked gasps from the crowd met it, followed by a deadly silence as they listened to the conversation play on. Hundreds of the wealthiest scumbags in the galaxy watched the kindly Vehn grandfather fix the fight they'd gambled on. Every face turned, slowly and steadily, towards the box reserved for the Guild of Criminals and Allied Trades.

"You fucking cheat!" I didn't see who shouted that, or who started the shooting. I didn't care, either. As though it was a signal, everyone else opened fire. Blaster bolts and laser beams criss-crossed the arena. Most targeted the Guildfather's box, others aimed for Vaher, and a few used the chaos to take shots at their rivals.

"Glorious chaos." Jarchess clapped me on the shoulder, nearly giving me a heart attack. That drew my attention back to the pressing problem of survival. "You've started a war between some of the worst people in the galaxy. Let's leave them to it."

She lifted Gragash, and I slipped under his arm to take some of his weight.