It wasn’t the collars this time.
The Sath had teamed up to take the power from her. Beyond a blue blaze of light and her own red fury, she saw Hark laughing. Silence was nearly . . .
Leto’s shout was drowned in a sea of pure energy. The force slammed into her like taking a wrecking ball to the chest. The back of her head connected with one of the octagonal frames. She had a brief moment of deja vu. Once, long ago, she’d let go—let it all go—and had wound up with her head smacked flat against the pole.
Then the image was gone, because she was screaming. Fire lanced across her body. She practically felt the metal of her armor dissolving into hot glue. Or, Dragon-damn, maybe that was her skin. Her nerves swam and collided. No relief. No air. No telling up from down from death. Her lungs felt crushed in on themselves. Even if she had a thousand bones, they would all be shattered. Pain beckoned her toward unconsciousness. She tried to keep her eyes open but failed.
With her body made vulnerable, and her brain left defenseless, a concussive force of another kind slammed through her skull.
Crowds? A Cage?
Leto was shouting at the Sath. “What the fuck was that?”
“A test,” Hark replied. “We can’t rely on a weak link.”
At the man’s mock salute, Leto took up his mace as if to resume the fight. The crowd thundered its approval.
Her scream jerked his head. He ignored both Hark and that thumping call to violence by kneeling beside Nynn. He lifted her head and brought it to rest across his thighs. A manic bubble gurgled up from what was left of her consciousness. “Not a good pillow.”
Why did she need him? Why had she bellowed his name? He was her tormentor and her captor. Only, the shelter of his arms made her shudder. His body forced her to feel pleasure and relief and utter confusion.
“Nynn, open your eyes. Now, lab filth. Open your eyes and look at me.”
She flinched.
Leto leaned close, but that didn’t make understanding him any easier. “I lost,” he said. “
“What happens to us now?”
“You survived. That was the agreement. I think it will depend on which way the Old Man wagered.” He unfastened what was left of her armor, which still smoked and hissed. “But now we’ll know.”
“Know what?”
“If he can be trusted.”
Nynn tried to push him away, but he was too powerful. “You’re talking blasphemy.”
“He’s not a god,” Leto hissed. “He’s a
The world had gone gray until the lights looked like glowing thunderclouds. He wasn’t making sense. Jealous still? No . . . They’d lost.
“You blame me.”
“You idiot woman. Whether he lost money or won, the Old Man promised my sister would be cared for. All I needed to do was keep you alive for three matches.” He dragged her to standing, despite her protests. “I have.”
She sneered.
“Fine,” he said, jaw fixed. “
“My . . .”
Images flooded back. A man she loved . . . and blood. A little boy . . . and tiny, precise wounds. She saw her mother and a house demolished by a blaze of fire. She recalled Malnefoley—his years of friendship and support, and the decision that had made her an outcast.
More memories, this time of captivity. Humiliation and rage and promises she believed would free her son. Violence and endless hours of disciplined training. She’d been Leto’s warrior to mold. They had been lovers, too —as close as man and woman could be.
The halves of two different lives smashed together and spiked from her forehead to the base of her spine. She remembered a soothing copper light and a voice speaking directly into her mind. A serpent’s voice.
Ulia. Telepath. Gift.
All that she’d been, both Nynn and Audrey, had been blocked. Wiped clean.
The darkness could take her now. All she knew was bursting apart, as surely as her gift burst into fields of light. She didn’t—couldn’t—
“I have scars because of Dr. Aster,” she said haltingly. “I met Caleb MacLaren in school. He was my husband and he’s dead. Dragon damn, Leto.” She smothered her cries by shoving her knuckles into her mouth. “I hated you, but I
“Yes.” His expression was intent, eager. “Make that leap, Nynn. I’ll catch you. Just tell me his—”
“Jack.” She closed her eyes against another blinding wash of pain. White and black fused as if neither existed. Nothing did. Just the agony of nearly having lost something so precious. “How did I forget him? How could I?”
“This isn’t the time.”
“Trust me. By the Chasm and the Dragon, can you do that?”
“Tell me why. Leto, I don’t have anything else. Give me something to
“Now is when we’ll see if the Old Man can be trusted.” Leto hauled her along his side, then kissed her temple. “About my sister, and about Jack.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Leto needed to get Nynn out of the Cage and back to the complex before too many pressures caused her mind to implode. Already, when he looked down into her heavy-lidded eyes, he saw nothing but defeat.
Sweat tinged with blood trailed down from her hair. A human would be dead by now. The concussive force. The blow to the back of her head. Her feet tripped along, but at least she was holding up the majority of her weight.
That wasn’t going to happen.
Although victorious, Silence and Hark stood quietly by. They were good warriors—better than good— because they had perfected self-defense of a different kind. Blank disinterest from her. Grinning idiocy from him. Those expressions were exactly what everyone anticipated seeing, which had allowed them to appear good little soldiers for so long. Leto had never considered them allies, but at that moment, he grasped at the best he could find.
Their plan . . .
The Old Man entered the Cage, as did Dr. Aster and the Pet.
The crowd quieted.
The Old Man was given a microphone. His rasping, crushed voice was even more threatening when amplified. “Our champion, Leto of Garnis. Defeated!”
While thousands celebrated the novelty, an honorable,
