“Can Yong beat him?” Nik whispered as my father walked away.
“Loyalty demands that I say yes,” I replied. “In reality, though…”
My voice trailed off, and Nik’s scowl deepened. “We should focus on the crowd, then,” he said, grabbing my hand to pull me toward the arena wall, as far from my father and the Gameskeeper as we could get. “Their screaming is what’s giving the Gameskeeper his juice, right?”
I nodded. “I already trashed the spellwork that lets him catch and hold their magic, so what they’re giving is all he’s got. If we can get them to stop cheering—or even better, to leave—he should run out of power pretty fast. But how are we going to do that? These people showed up to see a dragon fight, and now they’ve got a god in the mix as well. This is everything they paid to see and more. How do we get them to give that up?”
Nik didn’t answer, and I gritted my teeth, glancing back at my father. He was still huge and terrifying, but unlike the Gameskeeper, his power was fixed. He couldn’t grow like his enemy could or replenish his strength from the crowd, which meant time was against him. The longer this fight dragged on, the more disadvantaged he’d be. Clearing the arena would solve that, but how did two people fight a hundred thousand? How could we do anything against—
“Opal?” a familiar artificial voice chirped in my ear.
I jerked in surprise. She’d been so quiet, I’d forgotten that Sibyl was still with me.
“I know you’re busy,” my AI said briskly. “But just a heads-up: you’re going to want to find cover in the next five seconds.”
“Why?” I asked frantically, looking around. “What’s going to happen in the next five—”
My answer was a hail of gunfire through the ceiling above us. The automated shots perforated the peak of the arena’s dome like needles through paper. No, I realized when I saw the debris flying from the shots, not like paper. The roof was paper, or at least very thick cardboard.
That wasn’t actually too uncommon in the deep Underground where you never had to worry about rain. But this was an arena, not a cheap warehouse! I’d just assumed the roof was made of metal, but the only solid parts were actually the steel girders that held up the lights. A fact that quickly became abundantly apparent as ten heavy combat helicopters blasted through what was left of the paper covering to explode into the stadium from above.
“What the—” Nik grabbed me and hit the sand, shoving my head under the shelter of his freshly repaired bulletproof arm. “What is that?”
I wiggled out of his grip, grinning so hard my face hurt as the helicopters descended in formation behind my father.
“It’s my mom!”
***
“Opal!”
Shielding my eyes from the blowing sand, I got back to my feet just in time to see my mother leap out of the nearest helicopter the moment it was within safe jumping distance of the ground. As befit the situation, she was wearing combat armor. Perfectly fitted combat armor in a lovely shade of forest green that flattered her complexion—never forget who this was—but it was hands down the most practical thing I’d ever seen her wear. I was still gawking in disbelief when she threw her arms around me.
“I was so worried!” she cried, hugging me tight for a split second before she shoved me back to the ground. “Stay right there! I have to go talk to your father.”
“Mom, no!” But she’d already run off to join the other hundred soldiers dressed in the same deep-green armor as herself—albeit the far less fashionable version—who’d already formed a blockade between Yong and the Gameskeeper. My mother made her way to the center of the group at once, dropping to her knees with her head pressed into the sand at my father’s feet.
“Great Dragon,” she said reverently.
“Consort,” he rumbled back, his voice proud. “Excellent timing, as always.”
“I live only to return to your side,” my mother replied, raising her head to look up at him with a worshipful expression. “How may I serve you?”
“Pull back your men,” Yong ordered, his voice sharpening to a growl as his eyes returned to the Gameskeeper. “Our forces are not prepared for a battle such as this, and anyway, this is my fight. Take your team and go to Opal. She’ll tell you what to do.”
“Opal?” my mother repeated, her lovely face utterly confused. A second later, her obedient expression returned. “At once, Great Dragon,” she said, bowing again. “As you command.”
With that, she hopped back to her feet and retreated. Her army retreated with her like the tide, pulling back to form a black pool around Nik and I instead. When we were completely ringed in, my mother stepped forward to stand before me. “Opal,” she said primly. “The Great Yong has placed you in command. What are your orders?”
By the time she finished, my eyes were nearly falling out of my head. I’d heard Dad say it with my own ears, but it still didn’t seem possible that my mother—the same woman who’d refused to let me wear any clothes she didn’t personally select until I left for college—was standing there waiting for me to tell her what to do. I never would have predicted this turn of events in a million years. Then again…this was my mom. If Dad told her she could fly, she’d jump off a building without hesitation. Same went for taking orders from me, apparently, because here she was, her perfect face the picture of attentive readiness as she waited for me to tell her what to do.
“Right,” I said at last, pushing my goggles up so I could look at her directly. “The Gameskeeper is a Mortal Spirit who’s drawing his magic from the crowd.
