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“Today, we speak of survival,” he rumbles, his eyes flickering to me. “The Urr’ki Queen has come to us seeking peace.” A storm of murmurs swells. Disbelief. Disdain. A few shout in protest. The Al’fa waits until silence resumes. “She offers an alliance.”

I steel myself against their scorn. I knew this would not be easy, but the hisses and protests exceed my expectations. Khiara growls, low and dangerous. The Zmaj guards tails rasp over the stone as they take a step closer, ready for violence. I unclasp my hands and make a soothing gesture, urging the brothers to be calm.

A Zmaj steps forward, breaking from the crowd, massive and imposing. His horns gleam menacingly beneath the torchlight, casting long, jagged shadows across the arena. His rage rolls off him in suffocating waves, coiling like a serpent around my throat.

“This is madness,” he growls, his voice vibrating with fury. “An Urr’ki speaks of alliance, and we listen? We are Zmaj. We do not kneel to scavengers and cowards.”

The accusation hits its mark, though I let none of it show on my face. I sense the Al’fa’s restrained amusement beside me, but it’s the Zmaj on the floor who commands the crowd’s attention.

“She has not proven herself,” he snarls, locking eyes with the Al’fa. “Let her earn her place.”

The threat is clear. A challenge. My stomach knots. I can’t refuse. To do so would mark me as weak and render my mission dead before it begins. The Al’fa leans back, his expression one of quiet intrigue.

“You issue a Challenge, Hakti?”

“I do.”

The arena responds with approving growls, excitement bleeding into the tension.

The Al’fa’s eyes settle on me, heavy and curious. He’s judging, but also something more. Cold, calculating evaluation is in his hard eyes.

“Do you accept, Urr’ki Queen?”

I feel the weight of a hundred gazes crushing down on me, but my voice is steady as stone.

“I accept,” I say, as fear lances through me, a cold, sharp wire winding tight around my chest. Against this Hakti’s brute strength, I wouldn’t last a heartbeat. I know the Zmaj think with and respect strength, but my people have also studied them for years. We know their ways and from what I have seen we might know them better than they themselves do. I draw in a quiet breath and take a calculated risk. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but by the oldest Zmaj laws, I invoke the Challenge of Wits.”

I let the words fall into the silence like a blade striking stone. Hakti stiffens, surprise flashing across his brutal features. Around us, warriors exchange bewildered glances.

“The Challenge of Wits?” someone echoes.

The Al’fa’s lips twitch as though he enjoys the sudden shift in the air.

“Few remember such traditions,” the Al’fa says.

“Am I mistaken? Does the law exist or not?” I ask calmly, though my heart races.

The Al’fa stares. His eyes searching, mine and I meet his gaze. Something in him shifts. The tension in him eases. While he narrows his eyes, a slow smile spreads over his mouth. A fine mouth, actually. Full lips. He nods; it’s subtle but I do not miss it.

“They do,” he agrees.

“Then I ask they be honored, as I will honor them.”

Hakti’s claws flex at his sides. He is trapped. His pride is his prison.

“So be it,” Hakti spits.

The Al’fa nods his agreement and motions. I turn and leave the balcony. Khiara and Dilacs follow down the tunnel. When we are out of earshot, Dilacs growls.

“Queen, are you sure?” Khiara asks.

“I am,” I say. “We need them. I must defeat this Zmaj in a way that wins us honor and hopefully at least some trust.” Khiara huffs but he mutters understanding. “No matter what, let it play out.”

“No matter what?” Dilacs asks. “We cannot trust them.”

“We must,” I say. “We do not have a choice.”

I step out of the tunnel and onto the sands of the arena. A double line of humans and Zmaj has formed, watching me emerge. I pause in the opening. They’re all watching me with baleful eyes. I smile, not that I feel it, but I cannot appear to be bothered. They must see nothing but strength and composure. They see us as animals, I must disabuse them of that belief.