Page 82 of Dance of the Phoenix

Ragnor had the magic of manipulating his aura. He could use it to force any emotion he wanted into Atalon, rendering him utterlyhelpless and easy for the taking. But as it looked now, Ragnor wasn’t doing anything of the sort.

And it wasn’t just Ragnor, but Atalon too. He just stood there, his hands in the pockets of his fancy pants, staring unblinkingly back at Ragnor.

But then, just as I was watching Atalon on the big screen, I saw his face change ever so slightly. It was a minuscule change, barely visible to those who didn’t know him.

His lips twitched, as if he was pulling back a smile.

My heartbeat quickened as I turned my gaze to Ragnor. His face was still blank, but his eyes ... those midnight blues looked strange. Unfamiliar. Vacant.

An awful memory of my battle yesterday came to me just then. Eleanor, with her dead eyes, operating like a robot under the command of another ...

“No,” I blurted, slowly rising from my seat. “Ragnor,no—”

Atalon moved just then.

He walked leisurely toward Ragnor, as if he had no cares in the world. His face broke into a smile as he got closer to Ragnor, and the look on his face was triumphant. He didn’t speak as he pulled out a knife, a knife he was allowed to bring to the fight of the Lords, and pushed it into Ragnor’s chest.

As though he was frozen, unable to move due to some sort of external force, Ragnor simply stood there andletAtalon carve his heart out.

And my own heart stopped.

As if in slow motion, I watched Ragnor crumbling to the floor while Atalon walked away with his heart impaled on the knife.

And then, the pain came.

Pain like no other I’d ever felt.

It was as if someone was carvingmy own heartout.

And the pain was so agonizing, I screamed.

And screamed.

Nothing mattered.

Ragnor was gone.

And my soul was being sucked out of my body, as if it had just lost the one thing that kept it in place.

Part VI

Chapter 44

Eliza

I was used to worst-case scenarios in my line of work. When one’s job includes taking deadly risks, preparing for the worst outcome was a must, or you’d go insane.

But no amount of preparation could’ve braced me for the chaos that ensued in the Hecatomb arena.

From my hidden spot near the exit of the arena, I watched as the scenario I feared most came to pass.

Atalon killed Ragnor.

My friend. One of the few people on this damned planet I actually trusted.

Despite our recent arguments, and many differences, I cared for Ragnor deeply. He was like family. Like the brother I never had.

He was also one of the strongest men I’d ever known.