"Competitors, come to the arena."
The sad head referee's boom pierced the cold early air. Access tunnel line-up. Twelve of us. Beyond the thick wooden gates, the crowd sounded like a hungry animal.
My firmly strapped ankle hurt constantly. Under wrist wrap, garrote wire was hidden. Cold was soothing and uncomfortable. Caelan stood at a distance, defeated. In front, Lyra stretched deadly effortlessly. Torin and Marek knuckled and stared at me hungry. It seems they knew what to do.
The gates opened to reveal the compacted dirt of the large fighting circle with tall wooden benches. A wave hit my chest as the crowd shouted. Sunlight cut the tube.
It was time. The moment I became a story or victim
Noise muffled Caelan's "Remember," as we went. "Minute one."
I nodded and scanned the well-l
