Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Chapter 41: Letting Go

Minerva woke from her nightmare screaming and in the dark. Where am I? Beneath her body, she felt a thin layer of carpet over stone. Her hands scrambled to peel back the layer and find her dagger underneath. A light flashed, revealing paper screen partitions and Pyra standing guard.

Minerva shied back, cramming herself into the corner with a blanket hugged around her.

"Are you well, my Lady?" Pyra's voice came.

Resting her head against the wall, Minerva responded. "Yes, I'll be fine."

In the dark, she heard murmurs, rustling, and the hushed sound of breathing. She remembered where she was now, beneath the Pyrogon with the metal ceiling over her head being the bottom of the sand bowl. She listened to the faint thunder as the fights continued above.

Just when she thought no one had heard her screams, Brenna and Kodak stepped into her alcove.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Minerva whispered. There was plenty of space below the pit, but paper and wood did little to block sound.

"You didn't wake us," Brenna said, sitting down a few feet away. "We finished our fights not too long ago." Her braided hair dripped water on the carpet.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Kodak asked, standing behind Brenna.

Minerva pulled her blanket closer, trying to calm her heart. She hadn't brought Mala. Forcing the manticore to stay in the Pyrogon where her kin killed and died would have been too cruel. "Yes." And no. The nightmare ... the dream held her in its grip even now. The muscles of her hands clenched as if they could keep her from falling. As if they could regain what she'd let go of.

"Will the second round begin soon?" Minerva asked, her voice gravely like the granules of sleep crusting her eyes.

Pyra nodded. "I planned to rouse you soon, only ..."

Only Minerva had told the woman not to come anywhere near her if her sleep appeared restless. She'd lashed out before when the land of slumber merged into reality.

"You should get some sleep," she said to Brenna and Kodak. "The time gap between rounds will only get shorter from here." Then she nodded to Pyra. "Lead the way." She brought her blanket with her. The guard's orb of golden flame lit their path, casting light and shadows on the thin panels that set aside personal boxes for sleeping. They climbed the stairs and emerged on the floor level with the gates.

Here a number of nobles congregated around low wooden tables. Dice clattered and coins clinked. They'd gotten a barrel from somewhere, probably the arena wardens. As long as they kept away from the center stadium, Minerva didn't care how they occupied their time.

She and Pyra continued along the curve of the arena until they arrived at one of the gates. Between the bars, Minerva caught sight of Tobias. His fire burned brown like copper and arced in the air before smashing back to earth, sending his opponent tumbling and spraying hot sand in its wake.

"Will you be ready to fight?" Pyra asked when Minerva squatted on the ground.

"Who is to be my opponent?"

The tap of Pyra's finger on her sword hilt echoed against the empty walls. "One of the commoners. General Kavighn called her the most promising of the set."

Something like jealousy stirred in Minerva before she crushed it. Jealousy hatched into a dragon called envy whose jaws would swallow her whole.

She must have drifted back toward sleep because Pyra had to shake her shoulder. The woman took her blanket. "It's time."

This time Minerva stepped out to find a grey sky. The torches blazed in the night, Phoenix's brightest among them. The girl Minerva was to fight looked to be a couple summers younger—tall, with a pretty nose and round doe eyes.