Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Chapter 25: Repeating History

In her day, Empress Korlana debated the ethics of caging manticores and pitting them against each other in bloody matches. When she gained the throne, she razed Pyronia's main arena and several others to the ground.

Minerva rested her hands on the balcony rail overlooking a gigantic bowl of sand. Sheer metal walls enclosed the vast space with gates at spaced intervals to provide entry. Up past the walls' cliffs, metal barriers were erected to separate the narrow area reserved for the arena wardens from the crowd's spacious seating.

Blazing torches and banners with the family crests of the noble houses lined the perimeter. Above her grandstand, Phoenix's torch burned alongside the current crest of house Pyroline: a katana buried in a mountain with a black sun behind.

This new arena was her father's so called magnum opus: The Pyrogon.

We really went and built it back bigger and better, didn't we? History taught us nothing.

People surged into the arena, filling the spectators' section to the brim. There had already been an audience gathered for the kickoff of the Commoner's Tournament. Nothing drew the crowds quite like an execution though.

"Your seat, Heir Apparent?" Pyra offered, setting down a chair.

Minerva's fingernails tapped the lacquered wood of the rail as she straightened her back. "I think I'll stand, thank you."

Pyra nodded in acceptance and exchanged places with Kaolin, re-assuming her position of guarding the entrance to the private balcony.

"I'm using the seat if you're not," Kaolin said, plopping down on the chair. "You know, you should probably take that coat off."

"And stand here half-naked for everyone to see? I'd rather not." The noon sun shone down, but the cold still seeped into Minerva's bones. Since her talk with Dai and the subsequent overheating of her system, she hadn't been able to get warm again. Yet another thing wrong with her body to worry her. "How did the talk with the keepers go?"

Kaolin laughed. "They're not happy as you well know. The traditional assassin's execution is by whisper of blade. Also, they just cleaned the sand."

Thousands of spotless grains beneath them, all wiped free of any sign of blood or gore. If only the past could be so easily cleansed. Minerva sighed and sipped at her flask of water. Kodak had refilled it and told her to keep it. Consider it a thank you gift, he'd said.

Minerva shook her head. Only later did she realize that the leather-wrapped container was crafted from the same material as Brenna's—durable and capable of keeping its contents in a state of perpetual cold.

"The Empress has already arranged for Charna's execution according to the prescribed manner. I'd hate to steal her thunder." Though throwing a person to the manticores is something I could see her doing as well. Minerva's hand curled into a fist tight enough that her knuckles popped. "They agreed to release Chi?"

"After much ... discussion. They're showmen to the core and Chi plays to the fans the least. Goes for the throat too often." Kaolin stood and joined her at the rail.

"Means she's the hungriest," Minerva murmured. "I'm not leaving any ashes to be burned this time."

The Pyrogon buzzed with activity before erupting into cheers. Minerva watched from her raised position of several stories as two of her guards threw Dai out into the bowl. The gate crashed down behind him while he plowed headfirst into the ground, eating sand.

Opposite him, another gate opened and Chi prowled out, her giant paws leaving indents in the gritty terrain. Majestic. Even half-starved with her ribs showing through her skin, that could be the only word used to describe the lioness.