And I was starting to think that there was more to Beatrix than simply alien biology.
I hit her with a clean slice across her ribs that knocked loose the last remaining piece of armor. She brought her arms close to her body to cover up and lure me in. She was good, but she wasn’t as fast as me.
Her arms exploded into a flurry of twists, strikes, and parries. The motions were practiced, familiar, and their intended effect was obvious. She meant to intimidate me, while also providing a great show for the spectators. She was hoping for a better weapon, something that would even the odds.
“Aren’t you getting,” I grunted as I blocked three rapid strikes, “a little showy? Isn’t it embarrassing to be their trained monkey?”
“What is a monkey?” she asked, her attacks never faltering even for an instant.
Oh, yeah, I reminded myself. You know their language, but you haven’t learned their local insults yet. The Lakunae failed to provide that bit of information.
“Does a monkey look anything like you, human?” she asked. Even though she was trying to kill me, I noticed something in her voice and expression. She wasn’t angry. She was curious.
“I’m prettier,” I said.
I blocked a vicious swing, felt the hilt of my sword loosen a bit, and realized the alien who’d thrown it into the arena hadn’t bought it from a skilled swordsmith. It wouldn’t last much longer.
Then, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Reaver was on the ground under one of the Executioners. The creature was reaching for her throat. It looked like it was trying to strangle her. But there was something in her eyes that told me it wouldn’t happen. She confirmed it by giving me the hand- signal for “all good.” She’d noticed I was looking and called me off.
Beatrix also noticed where I was looking and took the opportunity to swing her ax in a fast, diagonal arc. I blocked, but the impact stripped the sword from my hand and sent the pieces scattering across the dirt.
Worse, I noticed a glimmer in her eyes when she made a quick glance to my left. So, I ducked and rolled to the right, just before the last Executioner slammed a spiked weapon into the ground. It missed me by a foot, but Beatrix barely avoided getting her face ripped off by the short spikes of her comrade’s weapon.
Beatrix and her Execution squad had been forced to compete together, but there was no loyalty between them. The idea was confirmed when the wafnugu hoisted his weapon and swung it over his head in a sloppy arc that put both me and Beatrix in the same danger.
The fucker did it on purpose. He didn’t have a shred of hesitation in his eyes as he drew back for another opportunistic strike.
With a snarl, Beatrix kicked the wafnugu in the back of his bald head and sent him sprawling to the ground. The creature reached out with both of his hands to stop his fall, but I caught them before they touched the ground and spun him around. I snapped my arms around his head and twisted hard, spinning his head almost all the way around before I heard and felt a sharp crack.
I dropped his limp body to the ground as a spherical camera drone buzzed in for a close-up. It inspected the wafnugu’s body for a moment before shining its little lights right in my eyes.
I leaned back as Beatrix pressed in for a desperate attack of opportunity. The spiked club hissed past my cheek and tickled me with its breeze. My next punch caught her wrist and forced her to drop the weapon. I hit her with another punch in the gut that rattled her whole body, then scooped her up. Spikes ripped at my skin, and I felt a slight graze for the first time since I’d met the Lakunae. A sliver of blood trickled down my stomach as I grabbed Beatrix by her hair and hurled her into the arena’s shielding.
The forcefield absorbed the impact, curled around her, then flung her back at me.
I caught her mid-air with a spinning backfist to the body, and she crashed into the ground in a cloud of dust. Her tentacles twitched weakly beneath her head as she fought to breathe.
I really didn’t like fighting a woman, and I realized I’d been going easy on her. Even that last punch hadn’t been at full-strength.
Soon, I would have to make a decision. Would I let her live? Or would I do something else? Could I convince her to join Reaver and I? Then all three of us could escape this place.
The crowd cheered. Either Reaver had vanquished her last opponent, or she’d died in battle, but I didn’t have time to find out which. An object flew an inch past Beatrix’s face, but she ducked and it went hurtling past her. It resembled a metal serving tray, and if it had hit her, it might have cut the gladiator in half. I looked to where the tray had come from and saw Reaver among a pile of dead wafnugu Executioners.
“You have won,” Beatrix whispered between her tightly clenched teeth.
“We’re getting out of here,” I said as I held up a hand to stop Reaver from throwing something else. “Join us.”
“No one leaves the arena.” Her expression changed again as she lifted herself drunkenly to her feet and scooped up a mace.
Instead of the calculating, dangerous woman I’d been fighting earlier, she looked calm, if in pain. Her frown looked forced. She saw death coming and accepted it for what it was: a release from her imprisonment. She was about to throw the match in a stupid frontal attack.
I would have killed her without a second thought if I had no other choice. It was
