Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"I will admit, I am impressed," Dorrin said as they flew back to the arena when the rest of the teams either completed the challenge or were retrieved from the field having failed to make it by the time limit.

Of course, there were also those who had been flown out earlier. Those who had fallen victim to the many traps and obstacles in a most spectacular manner. They were done for the day. For the games. And one of them might be done with life. That depended on whether or not the healing machinery could mend the particularly horrific injuries they'd managed to sustain, their hurt being far more than even the traps' designers had intended.

But these things sometimes happened. Dorrin had made that much perfectly clear from day one. And it was the knowledge of that risk that made the games all the more intriguing to those betting on them. But today's upset? And by not only a commoner, but one bound to a replacement who had, until just recently, never even had her runes? It was the talk of the town, and as a result the arena was full long after the games ended. The lingering crowd was in a very festive mood and waiting around as they enjoyed the energy of the day, looking forward to catching a glimpse of the day's winners.

"You think it'll make a difference?" Ziana asked as their transport slowed as it reached the arena.

"Oh, it most definitely did."

He gestured to the stands as they pulled into the arena proper.

"They're all still here," she marveled. "Is that normal?"

"Normal? No. Like you, it is very much not normal. You've made an impression, and you have won over the crowd. This gives us an advantage now. With them on our side, things could get interesting."

"Wait, they're here for us ?"

"Yes. For you, really, though they don't know our success was your doing. And I would not make that known."

"Hey, but if I?—"

"It puts a target on your back. The five families are protective of the games. Very much so. I already have history with them."

"More like bad blood."

"Call it what you will. Regardless, my situation will not be any worse for today's events. Yours, however? There is such a thing as unwanted attention. Especially from the heads of the families. We humiliated their heirs today, and we will need to be alert as a result."

"Are you saying it was a bad thing?"

"Oh, by no means. That was one of the most satisfyingly humiliating defeats any of them have ever faced. And that it was you and I who perpetrated it and made Flagro squirm? Delightful."

"You really do hate him, don't you?"

"We have— history. "

Ziana heard the shift in his tone and left it at that. One day she'd ask those questions. But this was a festive moment, and she didn't want to diminish it for either of them.

The transport ships landed, the elites exiting first, as was standard practice. But while the crowd noise increased for them, it was only when Dorrin and Ziana stepped out that they went wild, the cheers and shouts filling the air around them like a swarm of bees on a warm spring afternoon.

"This is really for us?"

"It is. Now stand tall. And smile . We may never experience the likes of this again."

The other transports unloaded, the vast majority of their occupants grimy, sweaty, and even bloody from the day's exertion. Standing out among them like a sore thumb were the two relatively clean winners. They'd gotten dirty, of course—there was no way one could run a course of that nature without it—but that was about the extent of it. Just some trail dirt, a few grass stains, and some sweaty streaks more from the heat than frantic exertion.

Dorrin's face flashed onto the displays floating above, his scar enhanced for the crowd, Ziana noted, making him look more fierce than in reality. Ziana's face was next, her eyes up and gazing at the crowd. She'd been beautified , for lack of a better word. Some sort of filter effect enhancing her cheekbones and making her eyes seem slightly larger.

"What are they doing?" she quietly asked.

"It's all for the masses," he replied. "Just go with it."

Go with it she did, wisely shutting her mouth and making her way toward the beckoning exit that would take them away from the constant gaze—physical and digital—that had been upon them every moment they were outside their one private area. The elites grouped up together, as was typical, while the rest of the thinned competitor herd slowly congregated as they crossed the arena floor. They'd landed farther from the tunnel than when they'd departed, Ziana noted. And from what Dorrin had said, it was all to afford the gamblers and adoring throngs some additional time to see them. It was all more than a little overwhelming, but at least this time it was in a good way.

As they drew closer to the tunnel leading to their bungalows, Gorrum and his violet-skinned partner fell into step with them, commoners walking near as the crowd cheered the day's victors.

"Okay. I'll admit that was pretty cool," Drammala said without breaking stride.

Ziana felt a swell of relief in her gut. They weren't friends, not by a long shot, but at least someone wasn't actually rooting for her failure. "Thanks."

"You know they're going to come after you extra hard now, right?"

She shrugged it off. "I figured as much. But the looks on their faces?" she said, nodding to the replay of Flagro and Galla's expressions of shock and subsequent tantrums replaying on the floating displays above on a loop along with other highlights, much to the delight of the crowd. "Yeah. Totally worth it."

"And you've moved up."

"I know."

" Way up," Drammala replied, looking toward the group of elites storming back to their own private lodgings. "It's not just Flagro and Galla you'll have to worry about now."

Ziana had figured that out pretty quickly as well, the angry stares of disbelief coming fast and frequent as the elite teams finished one-by-one ahead of the commoners. At least, so they believed. Pretty much all of them had freaked out at the news they'd been trounced so badly. It wasn't just about competition to them, it was their family honor, not to mention a considerable amount of ego on the line.

"Yeah. Thanks for the heads up."

"You're welcome." Drammala actually chuckled, the sound unexpected from her rather sweaty and soiled visage. "You know, I'm still not going to go easy on you."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"Good. But you did well out there. You may not be one of us by birth, but you're still one of us."

"Thanks, Drammala. I really do hope we can have a proper chat without all of this madness after the games."

Drammala's expression softened a smidge. There was even the hint of a smile, though she squashed that pretty quickly.

"We'll see," she replied. "See you around. Come on, Gorrum. I need a shower."

The duo peeled off as they entered the tunnel and hurried ahead to rinse off the day's muck and grime.

Everyone veered off to their lodgings as soon as they reached their little enclave, the strain of the day making the sound of a nice hot shower enticing to one and all, Dorrin and Ziana included. Unlike the others, however, they didn't need to leave their filthy attire at the door. They, at least, were able to walk straight through to the shower without leaving a trail of grime in their wake.

Of course, the auto-cleaning systems would just scrub their footprints if that was the case, but not having to rely on the system to clean up for them was nice. They walked straight into the shower and ditched their clothes, as was habit at this point, the water hitting them at just the right temperature to both wash and refresh them.

"It feels pretty good not having to worry about scrubbing around an injury for a change," Ziana said with a laugh. Her spirits were light for a change. Like, truly light. Things had finally gone their way. And more than that, she'd really contributed for a change rather than barely scraping by.

"True words," Dorrin agreed, his meaty hands rubbing all over his muscular body, his runes faintly illuminating from the contact.

Ziana's, however, remained dull. No glowing for her. Just a bunch of what she now knew were pretty much useless markings on her body. And yet they had still beaten the elites. Even with her disadvantage. Even with them setting her up for failure.

She almost jumped as his hands ran down her back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her body flush with surprise but also enjoying the man's touch.

"You scraped your back," he replied. "Nothing bad, but you will not be able to reach it. I am merely ensuring it does not become infected. Give me just a moment longer and I'll be done."

"Oh, okay," she replied, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

What was that ? she wondered. She didn't like this guy. He'd been an aloof dick, and just because he had somewhat changed his tune for the day was no reason for that to have shifted. He was rude. Gruff. Demanding. Sure, he was respectful of her, not ogling her when they bathed, but that was just because she was a necessary part of his quest for victory. A quest she had most notably helped with today.

True to his words, his hands slid away from her body a moment later, the abrupt lack of his touch making her skin long for contact. She'd been so long away from home and in a stressful situation that she'd almost forgotten how comforting something so simple could be. Even from this guy.

They dried off and dressed in clean clothes then headed to their kitchen area.

"Tonight will be a feast," he informed her. "The length of the event—at least, for everyone else—warrants it, as does the culling of the competitors. Less mouths to feed means they will put a little more effort into the meal."

"But they've all been really good."

He chuckled. "Yes, they have. But there are delights that are reserved for the later rounds. We commoners may not be seen as a real threat for victory, and many don't enter the games with that hope in their hearts. But there are other perks, and the food is most definitely one of them."

Ziana was definitely hungry, and truth be told, she rather liked the sound of that.

"Well then," she said, tugging the cable linking their cuffs, "let's get to it."