“So they should worship your DFZ instead? Prostrate themselves before a god who can’t even accept what she is?”
I shrugged. “I’ll be the first to admit the DFZ isn’t perfect, but I’ll take my chances with her over you any day. So would everyone who fights in your arena, I’ll bet, which is why you have to trap them with curses that chop off their heads. If fighting in your ring was really so great, Nik wouldn’t have run away. Even your audience isn’t real. I’ve felt the magic pumping through your arena. The only reason those people are cheering instead of screaming in horror is because you whip them into a murderous frenzy!”
“I push back the veil civilization has draped over their true selves!” the Gameskeeper roared. “They are the ones who cry for blood, and their cries are prayers to me!”
“Then why don’t you show them what you really are?” I yelled back. “What kind of god hides himself behind a face so bland that no one can remember it? Or forces his ‘champions’ to do all his fighting? If every human wants blood, why do you have to turn Nik into Mad Dog to get it?”
“Enough.”
“Why?” I demanded again. “If you really were the unapologetic god of this city’s true face, then hearing this stuff wouldn’t make you uncomfortable because it wouldn’t be true. But it is, so it does, ’cause you’re not. You’re not the real DFZ. You’re not even a god. You’re a magical parasite leveraging the worst of human nature to feed on its weakest.”
“So what if I am?” he asked, the room going darker as he walked out from behind his desk to loom over me. I took an involuntary step back as he did so, because the figure in front of me was no longer small or innocuous, but as huge and terrifying as an angry mob.
“You call me a parasite, but do you think this arena would be here if the people didn’t want it? Humans are violent, panicky animals. Savages who delight in inebriation, fornication, and any bloodshed that doesn’t involve them. That’s not my fault. I’m just a spirit, a reflection of what you humans value. If you have a problem with what I do, look in the mirror.”
“I do look,” I said, my hands balling into fists. “Why do you think I hate you so much? You’re everything that’s wrong with us! I know exactly what you are because I’ve had boots on my neck. I’ve been desperate and broke and backed into a corner and done stupid things because of it. I’ve had my back against the wall same as all those people who sign up for your fights! Unlike them, though, I was lucky enough to have people around me who didn’t take advantage of that. Good people who were willing to help me even when I could give them nothing in return. The DFZ could have held me over a barrel to save my father, but she didn’t. Nik could have left me to rot a million times over, but he didn’t. That’s why they’re worth fighting for, and you’re not. You’re just another spirit, another human flaw made flesh, but that doesn’t make you divine. We made you, we can unmake you. If we couldn’t, you wouldn’t need all of this.”
I stomped my foot on the floor where the spiral of spellwork was glittering like fresh blood. The Gameskeeper was glowing, too, his eyes shining with a cold light that made the dark room even darker.
“You’re very cocky, aren’t you?” he said at last, lips spreading to show his teeth, which were sharp and jagged as the jaws of a bear trap. “I like that. Fighters need to be cocky, so why don’t we make a deal?”
He waved his finger between the two of us, pointedly leaving out my father, who I’d just realized hadn’t said a word this whole time. When I looked to see how that was possible, I saw that he was trapped, wrapped up in a cocoon of bloody, screaming magic.
“Let him go!”
“Why would I do that?” the Gameskeeper asked with a jagged smile. “We’ve already established that I’m unfair, and as your father was unwise enough to blurt out earlier, I’ve got what you want. I’m holding all the cards, so let’s talk about what you can offer me.”
My blood ran cold. In my head, the DFZ was silent, leaving me way too much space to imagine all the horrible things the Gameskeeper could do to my father while I watched helplessly. Now that I knew he was a Mortal Spirit, I could feel how much smaller he was than the DFZ, but a god was still a god. Even a little one was way too much for us to handle alone, especially since my dad was already neutralized. As was fitting for an arena god, he had me down in the sand and put a sword at my throat, and as much as I hated to say it, I had no choice.
“What kind of deal did you have in mind?”
“One that’s good for both of us,” the Gameskeeper promised in a voice that made me certain it was no such thing. “As I’m sure you saw last night, my Mad Dog’s not cutting it anymore. He’s always been a brilliant fighter, but he’s not a very entertaining one. He’s too efficient, not dramatic enough, and I can’t keep pushing his button at the end
