Page 16 of Ironhold, Trial Two

I am grateful when we march back to Ironhold for the night, even though the procession back is a much more somber affair than the one in the morning. There are people there still on the side of the streets to cheer us, but we have carts with us now with the injured, and too many people have been killed already on the sands of the arena.

I am grateful that my friends are not among them. Rowan has survived his blindfold match without serious injury, and I walk beside him. Alaric is a little way away, apparently enjoying the procession in a way that the rest of us aren't. Naia is giving what healing she can to the injured. Zara is covered in bruises but has survived.

There is another somber sight. Two figures have been impaled by the side of the road. A sign is hung around each of their necks, with just two words on it:

Beast Whisperer

The sight of them makes me freeze, staring. I have heard that the emperor has my kind persecuted, but this… seeing it like this is more horrifying by far.

“Keep moving!” one of the guards snaps. A whip cracks near me.

I stumble forward, continuing to march. We all head up to the open gates of the fortress, trooping inside. Lord Darius is waiting for us, standing in the courtyard beyond.

“For some of you, this will have been your first time at the games,” he says. “Others will have been there before, but the impact does not diminish.” He slams his fist against his chest and then raises it in salute. “The fallen!”

“The fallen!” we echo. I am thinking about the beast I killed as much as the faces missing from the procession. Perhaps that’s a part of the point: to pay tribute to those we have been forced to slay.

“Now go to your practice,” Lord Darius commands. “Review what you have done in the arena today. Ensure you do not make the same mistakes tomorrow.”

It is a harsh instruction, to make us train so soon after we have finished fighting, but it is nothing I did not expect. It is what we had to do with the last games, the point being to try to learn lessons from our battles as soon as we are finished fighting them.

I head to the practice grounds with Rowan.

“It looks as though your flight went well today,” I say. I'm glad about that; I don't like the idea of him being hurt.

“I managed to feel the attacks coming,” Rowan says. “I even felt the moment when he bunched to throw his spear. It meant I could dodge, and then he didn't have a long weapon. I was able to close in.”

And then Rowan would have had the advantage.

“Does that mean you don’t have anything you want to work on?” I ask.

Rowan shakes his head. “There are always details. I need to be better if I'm going to get through all this. What about you, Lyra? I saw your bout. I was worried, but then-”

“I don't want to talk about it,” I say. The memory of what I had to do is still too fresh.

“You can't shy away from it,” Rowan insists, putting his hands on my shoulders. “You need to do what's necessary. Get through this and get out of here.”

He keeps saying that as if it's my plan rather than his. I agree with getting through the five seasons, but I'm not sure about what will happen after that.

“It’s still terrifying to be able to do that to something,” I say. “I barely trust myself with it.”

“Well, I trust you,” Rowan says. “I don't think I know anyone better.”

He holds me there for several seconds, his eyes fixed on mine. I’m very aware of how close we are in this moment. It would be so easy to cut the practice short and take him back to my room. It would be so easy to just kiss him now, to feel his body pressed against mine. But even as I think about it, thoughts of the fight intrude. I want to push past them to thoughts of Rowan, but I know it won't be so simple.

Rowan seems to sense it. “We should get to work. You defended well today, but you still need to work on where your attacks could be in the middle of it.”

“I'm not sure I want to go through it all,” I say.

“Doing it is the best way to get it out of your mind,” he replies. “And then…”

There is a promise unspoken in those words, or at least a possibility. I'm not sure what Rowan and I are to one another, if we are truly anything. The moments when he seems to want me most are in the middle of the games, when we are all balanced between life and death, and we are all living for the moment. There will be plenty of people creeping into each other's rooms tonight, plenty drinking wine, plenty just finding whatever company they can.

Would it be so wrong to go along with that? Perhaps not, but if I’m to be with Rowan, I want it to be when it isn’t just about adrenaline, blood and death. When it’s about us.

Finally, I finish my practice and I head to the dining hall, with its rows of benches and flickering torches. Already plenty of gladiators are feasting and drinking. Not too much, because we must all fight again tomorrow, but some seem determined to celebrate their survival so far. I see Ravenna sitting at a table with Naia, whispering in close to her. That catches me a little by surprise. While they are both my friends, Naia seems cautious around Ravenna. Maybe it's because the first time I met Ravenna, she manipulated Naia’s mind to get her to leave us alone.

I find something to eat, going to join the two of them.

“What are you two up to?” I ask.

Ravenna smiles. “Just getting Naia here to finish healing the wound I suffered today. On a rugged man, scars might be interesting, but I would rather avoid them.”

I'm sure that's only half the truth at best with her, but I know better than to pry. It's enough that I'm here with my friends, eating and drinking. Eventually I grow tired and head to bed. Rowan has still not finished practicing. Obviously his determination to achieve perfection has counted for more than the prospect of seeing me. Maybe that's a good thing. I would still rather be with him when it's not about the prospect of death.

And, in spite of coming through today, that prospect is still real. I will have to fight again tomorrow. The danger of the Colosseum is not over yet.