Aysulu kicked her horse forward, nocking an arrow to her bow. I followed, keeping Khalim and Garvesh behind me. The salamander looked at us with one eye, small and shiny like a glass bead, and then turned its head to examine us with the other. Steam poured from its nostrils.
It was customary, I learned, for the entire team to face their beast, even those who had no skill for combat. Khalim’s value to us in this fight was obvious, but I was less sure about Garvesh.
He soon proved his worth. “I have read of these creatures,” he said, peering out around my shoulder. “They live in caves—it will be nearly blind in daylight. And watch for its tail! That will trip you as sure as its breath will burn you.”
As he said that, another great gout of fire spread across the sands. Aysulu’s horse screamed and bucked. Even a well-trained steppe pony was afraid of the flames. She stayed in the saddle, gripping with her knees. When all four of her horse’s hooves were back on the ground, she loosed an arrow that sunk into the salamander’s leathery hide, just behind its head.
I was just out of range of its attack, but I would have to get closer. I lunged forward and threw a javelin. It arced toward the salamander’s wide, flat head and landed just short.
Aysulu sent two more arrows at the creature, both finding purchase in its leathery back. If it felt any pain, it made no sign of it. She kicked her horse into a gallop, and the salamander followed the sound of hoofbeats, its four short legs propelling it forward and its tail dragging a wake in the dust.
I ran after it, hoping it would keep its focus on Aysulu and not hear me and turn to burn me to a cinder. I threw another javelin when I was within range again, but its serpentine body twisted as it chased the horse, and the javelin fell harmlessly aside.
“Bring it around this way!” I called.
Aysulu heard me, but so did the salamander. It hurtled toward me, breathing fire as it went, its roar just audible over the rush of the flames.
I dove aside, hitting the ground and scraping a broad abrasion into my shoulder. When I got up, I tasted dust and smelled the faint odor of smoke; the soles of my boots had been singed.
“Come on, you ugly thing,” Aysulu shouted. “Chase me!” She rode closer and planted another arrow into its flesh before turning sharply away.
I stayed out of the range of its fire, my axe ready. Aysulu darted in and out twice more before it turned its attention back to her. It breathed another jet of flame and gave chase.
The horse was better under Aysulu’s control now, and it led the salamander almost to the edge of the arena before turning in a spiral toward the center. Aysulu loosed another arrow, and then hooked her bow over her shoulder and took the reins in both hands.
The salamander came nearer and nearer. The closer it came, the less likely it was that I would be able to dodge its breath again. I waited for a clear shot.
The horse thundered by me, and then the salamander. I cut down with my axe in a great overhead sweep and tore a rent in its side. Steam hissed from its jaw as it roared.
Its tail cracked through the air, whipping toward me. I brought the shaft of my axe up and blocked the full force of it, but the end continued its arc and caught me across the abdomen. It sliced a deep cut, and blood poured from my belly. It should have hurt, but I barely felt it, caught up as I was in the thrill of battle.
Another arrow from Aysulu drew its attention away. I raised my axe, heedless of my wound, and cut the salamander’s tail from its body. It twitched and writhed in the sand for a moment and then was still.
The salamander turned its great head to me and opened its steaming mouth. It was too close for me to get out of the way.
I brought up an arm to shield my face. The brightness was blinding even through my eyelids, and the heat was unbearable for only a moment, and then I felt nothing. I was aware, peripherally, that my clothing had caught fire, and my skin was burning. Aysulu was calling my name, as was Khalim, fear in their voices.
I drowned out the salamander’s roar with one of my own and crossed the distance between us in two bounds. My blade split its skull in two. Heat poured forth from the opening, and a light like a forge’s fire; I felt the salamander move once before the life fled from its body and it was motionless at last.
I was aware of very little. Bright spots took up most of my vision, and I could feel only the ghost of pain, and smell only a trace of burning flesh and cloth. The stands erupted in applause and cheers, a dull roar at the edge of my awareness. I dropped my axe and took a dizzy step backward.
“Eske!”
Suddenly, Khalim was at my side, and he took the quiver of javelins from my back and guided me gently to the ground. I felt warmth, and then a terrible, scorching heat, and then it faded, and my senses returned.
Khalim’s face materialized out of the blur. “You’re all right,” he said, with a heavy sigh of relief.
I sat up and looked around. Aysulu and Garvesh were also standing over me, the same look of concern on each of their faces.
“Did we win?” I asked. “I think we won.”
The shaft of my axe was still embedded in the salamander’s skull. I grasped it, and it came free more easily than I had expected. It was soon apparent why: whatever organ inside the creature that provided it with the heat it needed to breathe fire had melted the head. It was nothing more than a clump of metal clinging to the scorched remnants of the shaft.
I had carried this weapon since Aysulu and I had faced the raiders on the steppe in the winter. It had served me well in all that time, but now it was useless. I stuck the burnt end into the sand, as a memorial that would only last until the attendants came to take the body of the salamander away.
As we walked side by side back to our waiting area, I had the thought to put my arm around Khalim’s shoulders. I was giddy with our victory, and thought that nothing could possibly stop us from winning the sword. But I felt the eyes of the arena on me, and their gaze was like a heavy weight. The Ascended had gotten their blood, but they did not have mine, as singed and battered as I was. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I could feel their hunger and their disappointment.
“You frightened me, back there,” Khalim said when we were back below the stands and out of sight of the high seats. “I thought it was going to kill you.”
“It’ll take a lot more than that to be rid of me,” I told him. “And what of you? Will you be strong enough for the magic contest?”
He nodded. “I am well enough.”
He was nervous, as he had been the first evening he had been a part of the games, though he was trying to hide it.
“Don’t worry.” I reached out and took one of his hands. “You’ll do fine. We’re going to win, and we’re going to save the city. We’ll be heroes. You’ll see.”
A chill settled into my belly. I shivered despite the heat of the day. These had not been the same words I had said to Fearghus to convince him to hunt the lind-worm with me, but the taste and the weight of them in my mouth were the same.
We waited until evening, when the displays of magic would be most visible against the twilight. They were as spectacular as they had been before, as each team strove to outdo their previous performances. Great showers of colored sparks conjured by the Ascendeds’ champions rained from the darkening sky. The mage from the merchants’ guild filled the arena with flowering plants that distributed fruit to the crowds. Roshani summoned figures made of light, tall and heroic, which acted out a tale of victory over terrifying monsters.
When it was Khalim’s turn, I thought he might be paralyzed by fear again, but he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders and walked onto the sands with barely a word of encouragement from the rest of us. The Ascended and their nobles were silent at his approach, but the common folk in the lower levels grew louder and louder. A throng of them had gathered by the gate that separated the stands from the arena, and they pressed against it until it bowed outward. When Khalim reached the center of the arena, the gate burst from its hinges, and the mob flooded out. Soon, he was no longer visible.
I stood. I had no weapon, but I started to run to him anyway. What better opportunity would there be for a poisoned knife to find Khalim? Here, the crowd could be blamed, and there would be no reason to even send out another Serpent in a mask.
A voice echoed through the arena. “Be still.”
It was Khalim’s voice, but I had never heard him speak so sternly, nor at such a volume. The people stopped as if spellbound, and the arena went silent.
I stopped as well, only a few paces away from the barrier. Aysulu had followed just behind me, to help Khalim or to keep me out of trouble, and we shared a baffled look.
The glow of Khalim’s magic seeped out from between the bodies pressed around him. I still could not see him, but the crowd was less frantic, rippling like a still pond rather than rushing like a wave. Was he safe now? I thought that I should still try to get to him, to discourage any assassins that might have been near.
Guards came down from the stands and dashed to the center of the arena. Four of them began at one side of the crowd, tossing people aside as they shoved their way through. Two more went around and stopped me, crossing their spears in my path.
I sized them up. I was likely stronger, but they had weapons, and I did not.
“Return to your place,” one of the guards said. “We will deal with this.”
Aysulu caught up to me and put a hand on my arm. “There are at least a hundred witnesses there,” she said quietly, nodding to the mass of people. “They’re not going to try anything now.”
There were far more than one hundred people between me and Khalim, but she was right about the rest. If someone were to try to hurt him, they would have done it already, but his magic was still visible.
I stalked back to our waiting area and paced the few steps of its length, watching the proceedings. The guards in the crowd finally made their way to the center, and the people began to disperse.
They brought Khalim back, half leading and half dragging him by both arms, and deposited him unceremoniously at my feet. A grayish pallor had fallen over his skin, and when I helped him to his feet he was shaking. I feared poison, but he shook his head in response to my unspoken question. He was unhurt, but exhausted.
I scowled at the guards. “This man has done more for your people this evening than you have in your entire lives,” I said. “Show a little respect.”
They only scoffed and went back to their posts.
The contest ended shortly after. We had been deducted points for Khalim’s showing in the magic contest, a ruling that brought angry shouts from the stands. The Divine Champions had climbed up the ranks, as well. Tomorrow would be the chariot race, the last event in the tournament, and it would decide the winner.
We set Khalim on Aysulu’s horse, and made our way out to the streets. We were followed by a stream of people, who on quiet feet trailed us through the gate and into the city. Reverent and silent, they plucked at Khalim’s thin coat and his bare feet in the stirrups. He healed a few, his magic’s light dim and unsteady. By the time the guards chased off the crowds, he was barely awake in the saddle.
Reva was waiting at the safe house. “Well done today,” she said, looking us up and down.
“Did you see us fight the salamander?” I asked.
“Briefly,” she said.
I was, admittedly, disappointed in her lack of enthusiasm for my spectacular victory.
“I was more interested in your performance, Khalim,” Reva continued. “The people love you. It will do good for our cause, and help keep you safe from the Ascended.”
Did she know he was near death last night? None of us had told her, as we were in the arena from shortly after sunrise until well after sunset. She had a network of whisperers, of which I had seen only the smallest part, but she did not seem to conceive of the danger as being real and immediate.
“I’m fine,” Khalim said, sounding distant. He was swaying a bit.
Reva examined him, her arms crossed over her chest. “You didn’t give him anything to drink, did you?” she said to Aysulu and me. Garvesh, apparently, was above suspicion.
We protested that we had not.
Khalim frowned. “It’s the magic,” he said, taking care to speak clearly and hold himself upright. “I’ll be fine in a moment.”
Reva did not seem convinced. “Tomorrow is the last day of the tournament,” she said. “All our allies are meeting at the tavern in the slums. We need to discuss our next steps.”
“I can walk.” Khalim slid from the saddle and hung dizzily onto the reins.
“No, you can’t,” Reva said. “Stay here. One of you should stay with him.”
“I’ll stay. You can tell me about the plan later,” I said to Aysulu.
She took the horse, and she and Garvesh and Reva disappeared into the night.
I took Khalim inside, and only slightly burned the food I tried to make. He ate, and color returned to his face, and he was able to walk around the common room without looking faint.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Much better, thank you,” he said. “And thank you for staying with me. I don’t know what Reva would have done if I was left here alone.”
“I wouldn’t have left you.”
He sat down beside me next to the fire and stared into the flames, his expression pensive and troubled.
I thought to comfort him. There were a score of tales I could tell to restore his good spirits. Instead, I mirrored his sober demeanor. “That voice, in the arena,” I said. “Was that you?”
“I’m not sure.” He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. “It could have been me. It could have been him.”
I wondered, then, where the boundary between Khalim and his god lay. Would I ever speak to one, while thinking I was speaking to the other? But when I looked at him, I saw only the man: tangible, fragile, and mortal.
“I envy you,” he said. “You’re afraid of nothing.”
“That’s not true,” I said. The salamander had not scared me, but I feared a great number of things, foremost of which was losing him.
“Maybe not. I just think it might have been better if he had chosen someone like you.” He stirred the coals, and the firelight turned his eyes to amber.
I reached out to touch his hand, and then thought better of it. “I couldn’t do what you do,” I said. “But in any case, I’ll look after you. As long as you’ll have me.”
“I never wanted any of this,” he said. “I thought I’d stay in Nagara forever, fixing broken bones and delivering babies. Maybe I’d get married, and die old and fat and happy. But now I think I’ll never be able to go back. I’ll never see my mother again. I’ll never…I’ll never…”
With that, Khalim threw his arms around my neck and kissed me, clumsy and earnest.
He pulled back. “Forgive me, I—”
I silenced him with another kiss, taking him in my arms, and we did not speak for a long time.
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