The arena skiffs maneuvered and pressed forward as they forced us back with their presence.
“Can you take them?” Reaver asked me.
“Not like this. We retreat and play along for now,” I said.
The pen behind us opened up, and I ushered Beatrix and Reaver in. I backed into the pen, slowly but surely.
I had offered the crowd an enormous spectacle, one that they’d loved. The doors of the pen swung shut on their mechanical hinges, and the light of day vanished as I turned to face the others.
We all stood staring at each other. We were unarmed, but it didn’t mean any of us weren’t dangerous. Yet nobody was attacking.
“Why did you spare me?” Beatrix asked. “I would have killed you without a second thought.”
“You’re a good fighter,” I said. “And I don’t like this Demetrios guy any more than you do. Best way to to stick it to him was to spare you.”
“You should not have done that,” Beatrix scolded. “The king does not forgive. He does not show mercy. He is cruel, and he will not allow this crime to go unpunished. You should have killed me when you had the chance. I was ready! I was ready to die!”
I shrugged, which seemed to frustrate Beatrix far more than I thought it would. She balled her fists, and I wondered if I’d have to fight her in the confined space. I’d win—of that I had no doubt. But I wouldn't get away without a scratch. She was the first person to hurt me since the Lakunae, even if I’d only been slightly grazed.
Instead of attacking me, she growled something under her breath, spat on the floor, and leaned against the wall.
“How did you defeat me?” Beatrix asked, not looking my direction. “No one has ever beaten me. Though, at the request of a representative of the king, I have made it appear as though a few have gotten close.”
We stood in silence for several minutes as the holographic projector in the center of the pen replayed some of the more gory and exciting scenes of the match. I realized he skipped over the best part of the whole fight—my insult to the king. The announcer glossed over it by telling the audience that there would be a surprise coming up, reminded them of the next tournament schedule, and invited them to visit the local vendors.
“Tell me,” Beatrix whispered, “does the word Lakunae mean anything to you?”
I knew it. The alien gladiator in front of us had seen the space-squids, too.
Reaver gasped. Clearly, she’d had no idea that Beatrix was like us. She had no reason to, I supposed, since she hadn’t fought against Beatrix and seen her true strength.
“You too?” Reaver asked the other woman.
“All of us,” I said. “It appears we’re not alone, and we may not be the last.”
“And the artifacts?” Beatrix asked, turning first to Reaver, then me.
“I think I’ve found a few,” I said with a shrug. “They’re as black as the Void. They don’t reflect any light at all. And they’re powerful. I have them stored somewhere safe.”
Beatrix nodded slowly. “I searched for them when they first sent me here. But I have been here a long time. The Lakunae tormented me, whispered to me, gave me nightmares. I had visions, rage, depression.
“But they have not spoken to me for several months. I believe they have given up on me. It was before I arrived in the arena. I am alone… or… I was alone.” She lifted her eyes and looked hopefully at both Reaver and myself.
“What do you say?” Reaver asked as she nudged me with her elbow. “She followed us home, and though she’s a little smelly and not too pretty, I promise to clean up after her. Can I keep her?”
For the first time, I saw Beatrix smile, though I had to admit, it was equal parts frightening and pleasant.
“I promise not to make a mess on the floor,” she said to me with a wink that was a little more than playful. “All I ask is that you get me out of here. Get us all out of here.”
“We can’t—” Reaver started to say.
“I’ll get us out of here,” I said. “We’ll leave today, and with the king’s head under my arm.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“But nobody has ever escaped the arena,” Beatrix lamented.
“Yes, they have,” Reaver said. “They leave when they are killed, or when the tournament is over and they’re sent back with their owner. Then, if they aren’t killed on the road, during training, or on the way back, they have another chance to do it all over again. Once a gladiator survives a hundred battles, they are set free, or so we’re told. They are never heard from again.”
“What is your plan?” Beatrix asked me. “The arena is escape-proof. The forcefield goes all the way up, and the stone is too hard to break through to tunnel out before the guards kill us.”
“Nobody has ever really escaped?” I asked.
Both of the women shook their heads.
“The field is a kinetic-reduction field,” Beatrix explained, still not making eye contact. “I heard the guards talking about it. It absorbs kinetic energy. If something were able to make it through, it would need a field negator, which all the guards and their vehicles carry, or it would need to be very heavy with enough kinetic energy to overpower it. We cannot steal it. So, unless someone has one giant boulder in their pocket and can throw it really hard, I don’t think we’ll escape.”
I could throw something really hard, but I didn’t have a giant boulder.
“So, you’re just content to sit here and wait?” I asked Beatrix.
She shook her head. “If we are the last three, we will be forced to kill each other until only one of us is left.”
“And if we refuse?” I asked.
“Then, the decision will be turned to the crowd. They
