Page 3 of The Gods We Defy (All Gods Must Die #2)

CHAPTER 3

T wo weeks pass agonizingly slow. The masked man was right. Not only for telling me that I would be fighting every two days and be granted food if I won, but also that I would come to see how dark this place truly is.

I’ve seen other rooms down here when they decide to let me walk to the fighting pit instead of knocking me out and dragging me in there. It seems they decide by nothing other than what mood they are in each day.

The rooms I’ve seen have haunted my dreams. Rooms that look like torture chambers. The foul stench of sweat and death permeates the halls as I move past them, and I see layers of blood caked to the floors when I dare to glance within.

I know they are used regularly. Their screams bellow down to the room of my cell each night. Screams full of horror. Their pleas falling on deaf ears, along with their pain and sorrow.

Sometimes when I eventually drift off to sleep, my body too exhausted to hold out any longer, I see myself strapped down on those tables with men looming over me and sharp instruments in their hands.

I quickly learned that I prefer it when the men knock me out with the iron sticks. At least in that sleep, I am unaware in the darkness. Even if it is always filled with panic and dread.

I’ve tried everything I could think of to escape in my time here. I’ve tried to escape by attacking the guards when they first allowed me to walk down to the pit. But there seem to always be more guards around the corner with those iron sticks.

I paid for my little defiance by being forced to fight four days in a row. I was told to win each one or I would die the first time I lost. My food privileges were also taken away until after I won the first two fights.

I didn’t try to escape that way again.

There is no block on magic in this place either. It’s the place itself. And if I stay here, it will mean that I will be powerless forever.

No one answers any questions that I attempt to be subtle about. Sometimes I’ll get a beating for talking at all.

I’m alone most of the time, only hearing the screams of those being tortured farther down the passageway or the rats as they slip in through the bars searching for a scrap of food.

There are fresh bruises and cuts on top of my old ones, and more and more are added each day. The only positive thing about the pit fighting is that no weapons are allowed. It’s a small blessing, but I’ve managed to stay clear of any serious injuries because of it.

But it’s not the fights that are breaking me. It’s the feeling of slowly losing myself to this place and the darkness that threatens to consume me. Just as the masked fae predicted.

It’s only been two weeks, and I can feel it deep inside. The despair. The hopelessness. Dread. And a hollowness that threatens to slowly swallow me whole.

Today is the last day of the two weeks, but I have yet to see the masked fae appear.

I fear that he will come as promised and the desperation I have growing will ultimately make the decision for me. But I think I fear him not coming even more.

I’ve already grasped onto his deal like it’s my sliver of hope. It makes me feel weak that I have given in so quickly. But something tells me his deal is the only way out, and after spending two weeks down here, I now know it as the truth.

Movement draws my attention, alerting me to the men coming to collect me for my next fight.

I get to my feet and step into the middle of the cell, waiting for them to unlock it. Their iron sticks are out in front of them and their guard is up.

It seems they have yet to forget my little escape attempt.

I move forward when one of the men ushers me out with his stick. The other one waits until I’m walking forward before he steps up behind me, his iron stick aimed right at my back, ensuring I don’t try anything foolish again.

We move past the torture chamber that is silent for once and on through the long passageways that smell like stale death before moving into the circular pit.

They pull the hidden door open, and I move forward without resistance before they slam it shut behind me.

Glancing up, I watch the shadows move from above. Lately there have been more and more of them gathering, more movement and sounds. It seems they are enjoying the entertainment below.

It only makes me sick to my stomach.

I take stock of my body. It still feels weakened from the last fight, but strong enough to get through another.

The hidden door whirls again and my next opponent walks in.

Most of my other opponents have been human, but I can tell from this male’s pointed ears he’s fae. He’s also well-dressed with thick dark furs and leather boots. His long dark hair is well-kept, and his deep purple eyes are unburdened by the darkness.

It seems that whoever runs this place has decided to up the stakes and allow outsiders to come in and fight of their own accord. Something that only sends warning bells thrumming throughout my body.

The male smirks at me. There is an air of confidence in the way he moves and sizes me up. His eyes tell me he thinks he has already won this fight.

He moves forward to strike and attack, but I block him before punching him square in the chest and swiping his feet from under him. He hits the ground with a hard thump, but the smile he wears never leaves his face, and that cocky nature of his is not dimmed in the slightest.

He gets to his feet quickly and keeps his eyes on me while he moves around the pit. I follow on the opposite side of him, keeping my distance as I watch him like a hawk.

A gut feeling tells me something is not right. That he must have a trick up his sleeve and that I should be wary.

The thought barely crosses my mind when he lunges forward to attack. I dodge sideways but not before a sharp burn slashes across my stomach, making me hiss and bend forward.

A fiery pain slices across my side, spreading quickly to the rest of my body.

The world spins as the burn filters through to my veins, making me feel like I am on fire, burning from the inside out. The pit dips and sways as I stumble back, but something grabs ahold of my wrist… and snaps it.

A shooting pain travels straight up my arm, but it manages to pull me from whatever lull I was falling into.

Scrambling back to the wall, I hold my broken wrist tight to my chest and look for the weapon he must have hidden on him somewhere.

Quickly checking my wound, I notice it’s not that deep. I’ve also had plenty of broken bones without feeling this wretched.

He must have put something on his concealed blade. It now makes sense why he was so confident coming in here.

My good hand hits against the wall as I reach it and the thick, black, oily substance seeps around my fingers.

I grab onto it and, as he moves closer, fling it straight into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. He drops to his knees with a gasp as he tries desperately to remove it.

Poor thing. It must burn pretty badly.

My body sways again and I realize it won’t be long before I completely pass out.

While he’s still bent over, I use every last ounce of energy I have to slam my foot down on his left arm, the one I assume has the blade concealed.

It drops to the ground with a clank, and I slide it behind me out of his reach. He manages to stumble to his feet but is still trying to wipe the thick black substance from his eyes as he tries to see through it to attack me. Before he can gain his sight, I punch him as hard as I can in the throat.

While he’s choking, trying to catch his breath, I steady myself and spin with my hips, using the momentum to aim directly for his head. The side of my foot hits his head, and it snaps sideways with his body following before his knees drop to the ground once more. While he’s on his knees, I don’t take any chances and slam my knee up into his face, knocking him out.

He drops to the ground and doesn’t move.

I stare at him for a moment longer before I allow myself to feel a sliver of relief.

With adrenaline no longer on my side, my entire body shakes and the pain from my broken wrist makes itself known.

Dark spots fill my vision as the door opens and the guards grab my arms, their fingers digging into me as they drag me out of the pit and down through the passages to my cell. They dump me inside before locking it and leaving me there.

My stomach churns as I move to the back of the cell, where I have a hidden stash of food and water. Taking small sips from the jug, I try to steady my racing heartbeat so I can figure out what that blade was covered in.

My stomach caves in on itself as I bend forward and heave again and again until the water I just sipped and meager food from this morning reappears.

I keep vomiting until there’s nothing left inside me and I’m dry heaving. After a few more minutes, it eventually stops and the world around me stays still.

Whatever the blade was dipped in must not have been anything serious if I’m still alive. And although I feel like I’ve been run over by a carriage, my stomach finally starts to settle and the tremble in my body eases.

I glance down at my broken wrist and wince at how swollen it already is.

I rip some of my clothing off, ignoring the vile smell coming from it and me, and grab some of the hardened hay. Grouping the hay together, I use it as a makeshift splint and wrap the cloth around it to keep it in place before moving my arm inside my top to keep it from moving.

Taking the last of my water, I rinse my mouth out and clean the horrible taste from it before swallowing a sip and moving to the front of my cell, far away from the vile stench I just created.

Staring out at the fire lamps, I watch the flames sway while trying to figure out my next step.

They won’t be going easy on me just because I’m injured. I doubt they even care that my opponent snuck a weapon in. And now that I’m injured, I might not be able to win the next fight.

Even if I somehow manage to win the next one, it most definitely will only further injure me, ensuring the next fight will be my end.

My looming demise and the hopelessness of it all hits me hard. I’m going to die down here, and no one will ever know. My family will never know whether I’m out there somewhere or dead. And they will never get a moment of peace because of it.

“You look far better than I assumed you would.”

My head snaps up to the masked fae as he moves closer to the front of my cell.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t hear him sneak into the room.

“I look better? Better than what?” I ask, slightly shocked that he’s actually here and wonder if I’m possibly seeing things.

“Dead,” he replies.

“You assumed I wouldn’t last the two weeks?” I ask, trying to prove to myself he really is in front of me and not some illusion.

“I hoped you would,” he replies with honesty in his tone. “It’s proven to me that you are more than capable of doing what I need you to do.”

“Which is?”

He steps closer to the bars. “Are you ready to make a deal with me?”

Still hesitant to jump at his deal, I pause. “Tell me what you want me to do first.”

He narrows his eyes on me, and I spot the flicker of frustration cross them as he silently watches me. “Fine. It doesn’t matter to me either way. You can either choose to die down here, which I think you now realize is what will most definitely happen.” He gives me a look, but I stay quiet. We both know I’m going to eventually die down here if I stay. It’s no longer a question of if, but when .

“Or I can get you out of here and you can go to Túr Rí for me and find something I need.”

Túr Rí… I watch him for a moment and my gut senses something is off. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He smiles, as if glad I’ve pointed out what he was attempting to conceal. “The only way you can get into Túr Rí is to be a chosen and compete in the trials.”

“Something I am not,” I point out.

“The trials are not what they used to be. They were originally created for the Caligo and Sidus. To push those that have been chosen to their limits with the hopes they would awaken some hidden strengths. Now they are open for fae, hybrids, and anyone who is brave enough to enter. Most entries can be bought in now.”

I frown as his words settle inside me, utterly confusing me. “Why were they originally created for the Caligo and Sidus?” The Caligo and Sidus are supposed to remain on the hidden islands. That’s what Kestral said. He wanted to protect us. So why were these trials set up for us?

The masked male crosses his arms with a shrug. “The royals foolishly believed that they would find their savior among them. One that would save us from the gods. But the trials are not what they used to be. Those that look for a chosen are foolish beings, still hoping for something that will never happen. The gods rule this world now, no matter how much the fae think otherwise, and will continue to rule this world long after our bones turn to ash.”

Veles said the gods wanted to kill us because we were their loophole. Maybe this is why they wanted us hidden away from the rest of the world. But then why create a trial to push our limits? It contradicts what they are trying to do.

“How are you so aware of the Caligo and Sidus? Does everyone know about us?” I ask.

“Many know of your existence. But there are not many that know where you are all hidden. That is a highly kept secret that not even I know.”

At least there’s that. But… “What is the point of hiding us but also creating a trial for us?”

“Not all Caligo or Sidus will become chosen. The fae protect your hidden homes while watching out for those with potential. They usually bring them back to the fae lands and to Túr Rí to test them and try to awaken a true chosen.”

A true chosen… So that’s why Kestral and the others were there in Findias. They were looking for chosen to take part in these trials.

“You said anyone can join now, including fae. Why can’t you just compete yourself instead of trusting a stranger to do it?”

I’m sure he must have come across many others that can fight. And if fae can enter, many others can too.

He sighs. “I’ve been banned from ever entering, and no magic will allow me entry. A token must also be granted to enter. The token is infused with old magic and melds with the chosen to get them in. I’ve already tried to deceive it multiple times, but it knows my energy and rejects it every time.”

I let his words roll around in my mind for a moment. “If I accept this, then how will I get in?” I ask.

His eyes brighten as if I’ve already accepted his proposal. “I already have the token needed. You are a Caligo. It will blend with your energy quicker than a fae’s. You will have no problem getting in, I assure you.”

I stay silent for a moment and glance down at my wrist beneath my top as it begins to throb. The cut across my stomach burns and stings, making itself known. Both remind me of my injuries and the lack of choice I have right now.

I glance back up at him as he tries to remain detached, but his eyes tell me he needs me as much as I need him right now.

“Give me a truth first. Going to Túr Rí means I could be walking straight to my death. Staying here means the same. But I need to know first why you want this so bad.”

He goes quiet, only choosing to stare rather than give me any type of explanation.

“I can see it in your eyes. You’re running out of time. I am your only option,” I say even if I don’t know if that’s true. But he had to be desperate enough to come back for me again. If he had anyone else, he wouldn’t have bothered. “I could choose to die here instead,” I push, trying to get some answer out of him. “Help me understand why I should fight and possibly die for you instead.”

He watches me for another moment before releasing a harsh breath and the stiffness melts from his body. “It’s for my brother.” His eyes burn with sadness. “I’ve searched everywhere. Read every book I can find to try to save him. He’s sick, not a normal sickness, but one invoked by the gods. The only thing that can save him is old magic. Túr Rí was built upon it. It is one of the oldest places that still exists from when the nine gods walked this world. Many magic elements have been buried beneath it. There’s one in particular that will save him. A green stone that was created by the healing Goddess Brigid herself. It’s buried beneath Túr Rí in the old ruins.”

His brother… I can see the truth in his eyes, and it makes me feel a little less foolish for what I’m about to do. At least it is not a completely selfish cause.

“If I choose this, how will I find what you need?”

He moves back to the bars and an excited gleam enters his eyes. “I can’t tell you where it is. There are tunnels, passages, caverns, and dungeons that all go on for miles beneath Túr Rí. But I can bet my life that it will be there. The green stone was built into the walls of a room that the Goddess Brigid used to heal the sick. My findings and readings from journals and old scholars have proof it was seen there. I only need a piece, half the size of your hand. I have everything else I need to save him.”

I could be looking forever and still never find it. What he has said doesn’t give me much to go on. And while searching for it, I would also need to be competing in these trials just to get in.

But… I glance around my cell and a desolate feeling slides through me. It has to be better than being here. I would at least be fighting for a cause and surrounded by other people. I would have access to my powers, too.

With my mind already made up, I chance my arm and see if I can get something else out of this, too.

“If I make this deal with you, I want something in return,” I tell him, feigning confidence.

I see the smile in his eyes, his true smile hidden beneath the iron mask. “Saving your life isn’t enough?”

“You’re also sending me to my death should I not pass any of these trials,” I remind him.

He stays silent, waiting for my request.

“There was a woman with me. Her name is Leora. Find out what you can about her.”

He squints his eyes behind the mask as if thinking on it. “She’s not a fighter like you?”

I shake my head. “No.”

He nods to himself as if answering some question. “They more than likely sold her as a slave. I know the places to look if that is the case. Enter Túr Rí as a chosen and find what I need, and I will help find your friend.”

Swallowing hard, I glance around the cell once more and wince in disgust at the stale, putrid stench I’ve been living in these past couple of weeks.

I will break if I stay here. That I am sure of.

Glancing down at myself, I frown at my dirty hair, my gaunt frame, and filthy hands.

I feel… weak . Fragile. And that isn’t who I am.

I need to get out of here now and deal with the consequences later. Whatever it is, it has to be better than fighting for entertainment and slowly dying.

I look at the masked fae and nod. My choice truly made. “Do you have a blade?”

His brows dip together. “A blade?”

“For the deal? Do we not need to make one in blood?” Like the vow Veles did with me.

He shakes his head. “Simply take my hand and I will recite some word you must repeat.” He reaches his fingers through the bars, and I hesitantly wrap my own around them.

A familiar lyrical language hits my ears as a silver light curls around our joined hands. He nods at me to repeat his words. And although I butcher most of them, he nods his head, encouraging me to continue.

Although the light is similar to the one from the vow made between Veles and I, there is something that feels wrong about this one that makes me want to pull my hand away.

I force my body to stay still, finishing off the words he asks me to repeat as my gut churns and heart screams at me for the mistake I just made.

A small zap of energy slides through our hands and he pulls his back as the energy slowly disappears. But not before creating a small swirling symbol on the inside of my wrist.

“What is?—”

“It is done. That symbol will disappear once the deal is complete.”

A sliver of relief rushes through me realizing I have not just made another life vow with a fae and that once this deal is done, we can go our separate ways.

“Now, time to get you out of here.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me a small dark glass bottle with liquid in it. “The guards should be in soon with your food. Take this after you eat,” he orders with emphasis and a pointed look.

“What will it do?” I ask while taking the glass from him and eyeing its contents. There’s no strong smell coming from it, just a dark watery liquid.

“I would not have gone through all this trouble just to kill you now. I need you as much as you need me. It needs to be taken after food and once it kicks in, you’ll go for a little nap. The guards will think you’re dead and I’ll sort out the rest.”

My eyes widen and dart to his as they soften.

“It’s the only way to get you out of here safely,” he says with a dip of his head. “I’ll see you soon.”

Hope flitters through my chest as I nod at him and hide the bottle in my clothes as he turns to leave.

A few minutes later, two bulky males show up with a plate of food. They watch me warily, their sticks pointed toward me as if hoping I will attack them so they can use it.

They open the cell and drop the food to the floor, spilling most of it before upturning the water beside it and chuckling to themselves.

I guess they were getting sick of my little winning streak and are no longer entertaining the rules they began with.

I rub my hand along the hidden bottle under my clothes. I won’t be here for long, I remind myself. If everything goes to plan, I won’t ever have to see this place again.

The men kick the food over, making sure to damage it further before turning, locking me in once more and leaving.

I scan the dirty food for something edible and find some bread not too ruined by the dirt. Cleaning off most of it, I slowly chew it as my stomach churns at the thought of what I’m about to do.

If I have placed my trust in the wrong person, I will die tonight.

I glance around at the cell, feeling a sliver of pity for myself at how weak and vulnerable I feel right now.

I was going to die in this place, anyway.

Once I eat most of the bread, or as much as I can stomach, I take out the glass bottle and try not to think about what I’m doing before knocking it back in one gulp.

After a moment where nothing happens, I start to feel hopeful I made the right choice. It’s not poison after all, or something so violent it will burn me from the inside out.

But after another moment my hope starts to wane. Nothing still. I feel normal just… Just a little slow.

I glance up and find the world around me slowing down. The flames on the lamps curl slowly, nearly coming to a stop as time itself seems to follow.

I shake my head. That can’t be right.

But the slowness around me doesn’t right itself. My head spins next, growing heavier and heavier. So heavy that I lean to the side and rest it on the hay. Hay that now feels soft and comfortable.

My heartbeat slows to a soft thump, thump. Warmth fills my chest, and my gaze finds the thick, black bars of my cell as they join, becoming one dark mass that I softy drift into.