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Chapter Sixteen

“Wake up, gods dammit!”

At the sudden pain in her cheek, Kiva’s eyes shot open to find Cresta crouching beside her, the redhead’s arm raised as if preparing to slap her again.

Kiva touched her stinging face and demanded, “What —”

A roaring sound cut her off, and she squinted past Cresta through the painfully bright glare, dread filling her at what she saw.

“Get up,get up!” Cresta urged, hauling Kiva to her feet.

But Kiva didn’t need the encouragement; she was already scrambling upright.

She pushed past her dizziness, her mind desperately trying to make sense of where she was — and more alarmingly,why.

Because she was standing in the middle of an arena.

The roar she heard was the crowd — thousands of people crammed together on raised platforms around the edge of the open-air, bowl-shaped space, with ferocious warrior statues rising high to watch over everything, their backs straight and arms crossed as if in judgment.

Nerves prickled Kiva’s skin at the daunting sight, but then her attention moved to the center of the arena —where she stood— and her trepidation only grew. The ground was divided into three parts: an inner ring that was filled with water, the middle ring where she’d awoken having sand underfoot, and —

Kiva gasped as flames arose from the earth, filling the outer ring like a fiery barrier, preventing any escape.

She was trapped.

Theywere trapped.

Because it wasn’t just her and Cresta in the arena — Ashlyn and Naari were there as well, both having just regained consciousness and were now hurrying over, their faces tight.

Naari’s especially.

“What the hell is this?” Cresta demanded once the princess and the guard had reached them.

The amplified voice of King Thembi spoke before anyone could answer, echoing around the arena and quieting the crowd.

“Gersot, gersot! Ka tannem vu sentis rayi takaak zeg Arzavaar!”

The Jiirvan words meant nothing to Kiva, but she searched for the speaker, finding him on a private elevated dais halfway up one side of the crammed arena. He was seated beside his brother, both on new scorpion thrones glinting in the sunlight, and at their sides were —

Kiva took an automatic step forward at the sight of Jaren, Caldon, and Tipp all tied to solid vertical posts, their arms bound over their heads, their feet barely touching the ground. They were too far away for her to make out their expressions, but she had no trouble imagining their distress. Before she could move any further, Naari’s fingers curled around her elbow, halting her progress. There was a warning look on the guard’s face — warning, andfear.

Thembi kept speaking in his native tongue, so Kiva asked, “What’s he saying?”

It was Ashlyn who answered, “He’s welcoming the audience. Telling them we’re visitors who wish to prove our worth by undertaking the Arzavaar.”

We can’t justgiveit to you,King Ryuu had said about Sarana’s ring.You have toearnit.

A sick feeling began to bubble in Kiva’s stomach. “What’s the Arzavaar?”

“He’s also saying our companions will be put to death if we fail,” Cresta said. She cocked an eyebrow at Ashlyn. “You left that part out.”

The princess’s jaw ticked. “I saw no reason to panic her. And since when do you speak Jiirvan?”

Cresta shrugged. “There are plenty of Jiirvans in Zalindov. You can learn a lot in five years. I also know some Hadrisan, and all the swears in Odonese, plus some —”

“Excuse me,” Kiva hissed, not caring how Cresta had become multilingual, “but can you go back to the part about themkilling—”

“It’s an empty threat intended to excite the crowd,” Ashlyn quickly assured Kiva. “They wouldn’t dare hurt —”