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Alaysia

Alaysia’s head throbbed as consciousness returned. Cold stone pressed against her cheek, and the musty scent of underground tunnels filled her nostrils. Her eyes fluttered open to dim torchlight filtering through iron bars.

“Dernin?” She pushed herself up, relief washing over her as she spotted his scales gleaming in the low light. He lay sprawled across the floor of their cell, already stirring.

“I’m here.” His tail coiled around her as he sat up. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, taking in their surroundings. “Just a headache.”

The cell was barely large enough for Dernin’s massive frame, with rough stone walls on three sides and iron bars at the front. “This looks like...”

“The holding cells. Where they first brought me.” Dernin’s fists clenched at his sides. “Fyret must be furious that I won instead of his champion.”

Dernin tested the bars, his muscles straining, but they held firm.

A chill ran down Alaysia’s spine as another possibility occurred to her. “What if... what if they found out about our plan?” She lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “About the message we sent?”

Dernin’s golden eyes widened slightly. “We were careful.” But Alaysia noticed the hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “We just need to hold out two more days.”

“If they don’t already know.” Alaysia wrung her hands in her lap, her mind racing through possible explanations. Had someone overheard them? Had their message carrier betrayed them? Or was this simply Fyret’s wounded pride seeking revenge?

“Even if they do know, help is still coming,” Dernin reassured her.

But Alaysia couldn’t shake the dread settling in her stomach. Something about this felt wrong—more calculated than a simple angry response to losing a fight. Fyret wasn’t the type to act purely on emotion. There had to be more to it.

Heavy footsteps approached from down the corridor. The iron door soon creaked open with a metallic groan. Alaysia’s heart pounded harder as Fyret’s tall frame blocked the dim torchlight from the corridor. Bariv loomed beside him, his filaments squirming with anticipation.

“My dear champions.” Fyret’s silk-smooth voice sent chills down Alaysia’s spine. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

Dernin’s tail tightened around her waist. “Find out what?”

“I have eyes and ears all over Jorvla.” Fyret’s rings clinked against the cell bars. “Word travels fast about escape plans from my fighting ring.”

Alaysia kept her face carefully blank, though her mind raced. How much did he know? Had someone seen them with the messenger?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dernin said flatly.

Bariv’s fist shot forward, connecting with Dernin’s face. The crack echoed off the stone walls. “Wrong answer.”

Blood trickled from Dernin’s split lip, but he remained silent. His golden scales gleamed in the torchlight as he straightened, positioning himself between Alaysia and their captors.

“Come now,” Fyret purred. “Make this easier on yourselves. Tell me about your little plan.”

“The only plan I had was to win your tournament,” Dernin replied. “Which I did, fairly, despite your interference.”

Another blow from Bariv landed on Dernin’s ribs. Alaysia bit her tongue to keep from crying out, her nails digging into her palms. She couldn’t give them anything to work with, couldn’t let them see her panic. She’d learned long ago that showing weakness only made things worse.

“Interesting theory.” Fyret’s eyes narrowed. “But I know there’s more. My sources are never wrong.”

“Your sources?” Alaysia found her voice, keeping it steady despite her racing pulse. “The same ones who helped you drug Dernin’s wine?”

“Clever girl. But cleverness won’t save you from what’s coming if you don’t start talking.”

Fyret leaned closer to Dernin’s face. “We know the Niri warriors are coming. And what a coincidence—we have our very own Niri warrior right here.”

Alaysia’s breath stuck in her throat. Her fingers found Dernin’s tail, still wrapped protectively around her waist, seeking reassurance from his warmth.

“Your logic is flawed,” Dernin said, his voice steady despite the blood trickling from his split lip. “Why would I risk everything now, after winning?”

Bariv’s fist connected with Dernin’s jaw again. Alaysia bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper, forcing herself to remain still.

“Because you’re one of them,” Fyret said. “Once a warrior, always a warrior, right? Did you really think we wouldn’t notice the messengers moving through our territory?”

Another blow landed on Dernin’s ribs. He grunted but remained upright.

Two days. They just needed to hold out for two days. Alaysia’s mind raced through possibilities, each more desperate than the last. The cell was too small for Dernin to properly defend himself. His muscles tensed under her touch with each hit, but he didn’t strike back.

“Nothing to say?” Bariv’s filaments writhed as he landed another punch. “No clever denials?”

Blood dripped onto the stone floor. Alaysia’s heart clenched, but she kept her face carefully blank. Any reaction would only make things worse. She’d learned that lesson well over years of slavery. Show nothing, reveal nothing, survive.

“You’re wasting your time,” Dernin said, spitting blood onto the floor. “I won your tournament. That’s all.”

“We’ll see about that.” Fyret’s smile turned cruel.

Bariv’s next blow sent Dernin stumbling back against the wall. His tail tightened around Alaysia, shielding her from the impact.

Each blow that followed sent waves of nausea through Alaysia’s stomach. Blood dripped from his nose and his split lip, forming dark patterns on the stone floor. Her fingers dug into her palms hard enough to leave crescent marks as she watched Bariv’s fist connect with Dernin’s ribs again and again.

“The warriors.” Fyret’s voice dripped honey-sweet poison. “When are they coming?”

Dernin spat more blood onto the floor. “There are no warriors.”

Another punch. Alaysia’s control finally snapped.

“Stop!” She lurched forward, only Dernin’s tail around her waist keeping her from throwing herself between them. “Please, just stop!”

Fyret’s attention shifted to her like a predator scenting fresh prey. “Ah, the prize speaks.” He pulled something from his belt, and a metallic gleam caught the torchlight. A knife. “Perhaps you’d like to share what you know?”

“I don’t know anything.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue.

Fyret pressed the knife under her eye. The cold metal bit into her skin. “Such pretty blue eyes. It would be a shame to have to dig them out.”

“Don’t.” Dernin’s voice was rough. “Leave her—”

“Stop.” Alaysia cut him off, meeting Fyret’s gaze despite the blade against her skin. Her heart thundered erratically but her voice remained steady. “Do what you want to me. I won’t tell you anything because there’s nothing to tell.”

“Alaysia...” Dernin tried again.

“No.” She didn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see the pain in those golden eyes. If he tried to protect her now, everything would be ruined. “I’ve survived worse than you, Fyret. Do your worst.”

The knife pressed harder, drawing a warm trickle of blood down her cheek. Alaysia didn’t flinch. She’d learned that showing fear only made things much, much worse. Two days. They just had to last two days. She could handle anything for two days.

“Such spirit.” Fyret sneered. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

The cold steel bit deeper into Alaysia’s cheek as Fyret pressed the blade closer to her eye. She refused to look away from his cruel smile, refused to give him the satisfaction of her fear. More blood trickled down her face.

A sharp crack split the air. Fyret’s eyes widened in shock. The knife clattered to the ground as he stumbled forward, revealing a spreading dark stain on his chest. Another crack echoed through the cell, and Bariv dropped beside him, his filaments twitching once before going still.

Dernin’s tail whipped around Alaysia’s waist, yanking her against his chest as he pressed them both into the corner of the cell. His body shielded around her, protecting her from any additional gun fire.

“Are you hurt?” His breath was warm against her ear.

“Just scratches.” Alaysia pressed closer to him. “What’s happening?”

“Stay down.” Dernin’s muscles tensed around her. “Someone’s out there.”

Alaysia peered past Dernin’s shoulder at the two bodies sprawled across the cell floor. Fyret lay face-down, blood pooling beneath him. The knife he’d held to her face lay just inches from his outstretched hand. Bariv’s filaments had stopped moving entirely.

More footsteps echoed down the corridor, but the angle of the cell prevented her from seeing who approached. Dernin shifted to better shield her with his body despite his injuries.

“Keep your head down,” he whispered. “We don’t know if they’re friendly.”