Still, I refused to do it. Beatrix was a strong and capable fighter, exactly the kind of person I wanted on my side.
The woman attacked, sort of. After taking two completely ineffective swings through the air, she telegraphed her next move by lifting the mace over her shoulder and screaming.
The sound sent a shiver up my spine. It was triumphant, satisfied, and horrible at the same time. Time seemed to slow again. I saw her mouth, a mournful grimace pulling the corners down. Her teeth were clenched again, prepared to receive whatever wrath I could produce. But her eyes were what disturbed me the most. She was crying.
I leaned forward and charged her. I caught her hands before she could bring the mace down. As Beatrix closed her eyes, obviously unwilling to watch her own death, a tear fell from each.
She relaxed as I swept her legs out from under her. She let go of the club and allowed herself to fall to the ground with a hard thump.
I took a position above her. She didn’t fight or even try to resist. Instead, she lay on her stomach, arms above her head, face turned toward me. Her eyes were still closed, and I held the club in my right hand. Her tentacles writhed, but she mostly kept them above her.
Reaver stood a few yards away and watched. She had a few cuts on her forehead, but they seemed to be healing already.
Beatrix’s shallow cuts on her arm I’d given here were also nearly healed. The dried blood had fallen away, revealing a light, pink scar.
I understood.
The Lakunae had been sending people to this planet for a long time—maybe centuries. I was not the first. Likely, neither was Beatrix, but she’d been altered by the Void Gods, just like me. She’d been sent on a mission she was not prepared for. It displayed how desperate and ineffective the squids were. Being here wasn’t her choice, just as it wasn’t mine.
Before the crowd had screamed, roared, hissed, and laughed, but now they were silent.
There was no way I could kill Beatrix. I’d made an offer to her, that she could come with me when I escaped from here, and I intended to keep it. All three of us would leave together, for better or worse.
I placed my foot on Beatrix’s chest and looked up to the stands. “Beatrix the Bloody has fallen! She has conceded defeat. Do you really wish to see your prized fighter die? Who will you watch, then?”
The sound of shifting bodies brought my attention to the far end of the arena. One small section, no wider than four or five seats, was adorned with gold and red cloth. It resembled an elegant circus tent, and though the front was open, I couldn’t make out who was inside. Luckily, a couple of helpful camera drones decided to show me a close-up on the central hologram.
I didn’t recognize the face, and barely even recognized it as a face. It looked like a human, if the man’s skin was painted white and his eyes were removed. In place of the eyes was nothing but blackness. Two dark pits disappeared into the spots where his eyes should have been. The effect was equal parts fascinating, uncomfortable, and mysterious.
The creature, whom I could only assume was King Demetrios, stood. No one in the audience made a sound. The king lifted his dark arm. It ended in a sideways fist, knuckles up.
I knew what was coming next, and I was ready.
Demetrios slowly extended his thumb, held it for a moment, then turned it downward. He wanted me to kill my opponent, to finish her off for the enjoyment of the audience. But he didn’t know me.
I glanced at my opponent, who lay at my feet, ready to die, then slowly lifted my eyes toward the king. A camera drone came in close, which was good. I wasn’t sure how far the king could see, or if he could even see at all. If not, I hoped someone would tell him what I did next.
I lifted my fist, just as slowly as he’d done. I kept the knuckles toward the sky, just as he’d done as well. Then, instead of extending my thumb, I turned my hand over and extended my middle finger, pointing it straight up at the sky.
“Fuck me,” Reaver whispered into the pregnant silence. “We’re all going to die.”
The crowd suddenly roared their discontent, and the set of bodyguards around Demetrios tensed and lifted their weapons. I stared at the king and spat with contempt. A sudden roar in the air and a cloud of dust ripped across the arena.
I backed away from the searing heat, shielded my eyes, and looked up.
Five sleek, purple skiffs leveled weapons at us from above. Particle cannons hummed as I sized up the vehicles. These machines were a calibre above Skald and his crew’s tech.
I could take at least a few of the vehicles out, but I waited because they hadn’t fired yet. Instead, three skiffs lowered themselves to eye-level and slowly approached to herd us back to the pen.
Beatrix scrambled to her feet and took a moment to look around. She was obviously confused and amazed to still be alive.
“What did you do?” she whispered as we backed away from the approaching skiffs.
She must not have seen my gesture.
“I insulted the king,” I whispered back. “He wanted me to kill you. I refused. I also flipped him off.”
Her expression made it clear that she didn’t understand the phrase, so I demonstrated. She gasped, and her face went slightly pale. “That is a serious insult on this planet,” she said, almost concealing her smile. “The most serious. Nobody has ever
