“Can’t you take me in to watch?” the girl asked.
The warforged opened his mouth to speak, and Te’oma saw her chance to strike. “Such violent places are no place-”
“What is it, Xalt?” Esprл asked. “What-?” She cut herself off as the warforged turned and she saw the black knife in his back.
Te’oma leaped over the merchant’s counter and kicked the warforged in the face. He turned, fell flat on his face, and did not move again.
Esprл screamed and whirled to run, but Te’oma was quicker. She reached out and grabbed the girl by her arm. Shrieking, Esprл slapped and clawed and punched. Te’oma caught her other arm and shook her.
“Stop that! Stop it, Esprл! You know it has to be this way!”
“You killed him! You killed-!”
“No!” Te’oma gave the girl a good, hard shake. “No, Esprл!”
The fight went out of the girl. She sagged to her knees and burst into tears.
“I just took the fight out of him,” Te’oma said. “He’ll live. Killing a warforged isn’t that easy.”
“H-he’s not dead?”
Keeping a tight hold on the girl, Te’oma turned to look at the warforged. He wasn’t breathing, but that meant nothing. Warforged didn’t breathe.
“The knife was just to get his attention,” she said, though she had no idea if it was true. It didn’t matter, as long as the girl believed it. “I needed him shocked long enough to knock him senseless. He may… leak a little, but he’ll be fine.”
“Where’s Kandler?” Esprл asked.
Te’oma smiled as she pulled the knife from the warforged and slipped it back into its sheath. She put an arm around the girl. “Still in the arena,” she said. “I expect he’ll be dead soon, along with the others.”
Esprл tried to break away from Te’oma. The changeling grabbed her by the arm and pulled the girl back in. “I have to help him!” Esprл said.
Te’oma shook her head. “You’ll just get yourself killed!”
Esprл glared at the changeling. “What do you plan to do with me now?” she asked.
“We need to find a way off this city,” the changeling said. “But that’s not enough.” She started walking, the girl in tow. “I’m not carrying you all the way to Karrnath. We’ll need horses, food, and-” Te’oma stopped in her tracks and stared out toward the horizon. “I’d wondered what had happened to that.”
Esprл squinted in the direction of the changeling’s line of sight. “Is that the sun breaking through there?” the girl asked.
“The sun never shines in the Mournland,” the changeling said with a grin, but then she remembered the light that had cascaded over that old elf wizard’s tower. “Almost never anyhow. That’s the ring of fire around an airship, and it’s coming this way.”
Te’oma looked back over her shoulder at the arena. “Yes,” she said as she pulled the girl along toward the towering wall. “This might be something worth sticking around for.”
Chapter 52
Kandler took Sallah’s sword in his hand. Silver fire danced along its edges. The flames were weaker and dimmer here in the Mournland compared to bright holy fire he’d seen on display in Mardakine. Whatever foul magics infected the Mournland, even the knights’ blades were not immune.
“Take good care of it,” Sallah said. “It is sacred.”
“I just care if it’s sharp,” the justicar said as he swung the sword about, testing its balance. He sighted down its edge, looking for any imperfections. “Do you think there’s any chance that thing’s afraid of fire?”
Burch’s words still echoed in Kandler’s head-“Wouldn’t bet your life on it.”
The justicar twisted his head from side to side, cracking his neck and loosening his shoulders as he walked toward the wide black circle painted in the center of the arena’s floor. The titan named Gorgan lumbered forth and took its place just within the bounds of the circle, opposite from Kandler’s position.
The gigantic creature slammed the arena floor with its weapons, and Kandler had to struggle to keep his feet. In response, the justicar leaped into the air and pounded the ground with Sallah’s sword. The warforged in the stands laughed.
“And now,” Bastard’s voice said through its golden horn, “let the deathmatch begin!”
Kandler stood his ground and raised his sword at the massive creature. Gorgan dragged the blade of its axe- hand across the front of its hammer-hand, sending sparks flying toward the justicar, then the creature threw its arms in the air and rasped out an ear-shattering howl that sounded like a hundred swords being forced against a massive grindstone.
Kandler turned and ran. There was no way he could hope to stand toe to toe with such a creature, and he wasn’t about to try. He just needed a bit of time to execute his plan.
The crowd laughed harder than ever. Gorgan stood stunned for a moment, unsure what to do.
Bastard’s voice rang out across the arena. “Run the breather down, Gorgan,” he said, “then kill it!”
The crowd roared its approval.
Kandler slowed to a trot when he reached the far end of the arena, and the titan started toward him, pounding its hammer rhythmically on the ground as it moved, like an old man leaning on a walking stick. The massive creature covered the ground fast, and Kandler found himself staring up at Gorgan as it bore down on him.
The justicar waved the blazing sword around him like a flag. Weak as the silver flames were, they still shone like a beacon in the dim light of the Mournland. He hoped that this might work like waving a red cape in front of a bull, but he was more concerned about the display he was making than how it affected the titan.
Kandler bounced his head along with the beat of the titan’s gait as it charged toward him, the floor shaking with every step. Gorgan raised both of its massive weapon-hands high above its head to smash or slash Kandler to pieces with a single overwhelming attack. As it did, the justicar dashed straight at the titan.
Matching the creature’s rhythm in his head, Kandler sprinted toward the creature and dove between its legs. Gorgan stumbled and almost tripped over itself as it struggled to compensate for the justicar’s unexpected move. It managed to right itself at the last instant, but by the time it turned around to look for Kandler, he was halfway across the arena again.
The titan charged after Kandler, a low growl building in its barrel-sized throat. This time, the justicar ran over toward Bastard’s box and stood before the stands. The crowd booed as the justicar waved his blade at the titan again, goading it toward him faster.
As Gorgan neared, Kandler faked left and then ran right. The titan fell for the feint. When it tried to correct its momentum, it went to its knees right in front of the platform. As it raised its head, it found itself eye to eye with Bastard. The creature was close enough that Bastard eschewed his golden horn as it shouted, “He’s making a fool of you, Gorgan! Take your time. Kill him at your leisure.”
The titan pulled itself to its feet. Already at the end of the arena, Kandler looked out past the creature as it stood, and he smiled. Panting just a bit from the exertion, he wiped the sweat from his brow. So far, his plan had gone well enough. He just wished he knew what might happen if it worked. “One more time,” Kandler said to himself.
Gorgan lumbered across the arena floor this time, keeping its eyes on Kandler every second. As it neared, the justicar feinted to the left and right, but the giant warforged kept up with him, not giving him a chance to run past. Gorgan waited for the right moment, then struck. Its axe-hand came down with a terrible crash. Kandler managed to sidestep the blow, but the impact knocked him from his feet.
The titan followed up the axe strike with a swing of its hammer-hand. Kandler didn’t see a way to outrace it, so he dove next to the creature’s axe-hand, which was still where it had landed on the arena floor.
The titan’s hammer came down atop its axe. The blow drove the sharp edge of the axe further into the floor, and the axe-blade kept the hammer from smashing Kandler to a pulp.
The justicar scrambled to the other side of the titan’s axe. Gorgan tried to raise its axe-hand again so it could
