Baited (Gladiators of the Gryn #2)

Blayn

BLAYN

T he crowd roars, the sound muffled behind the protective forcefields. Rych spins his sword as we face the three competitors ranged against us.

Sartak wants blood and these three are about to die, two Habosu and an Oykig, all of whom think they can take on Rych and me.

We’re already covered from head to foot in blood which is not our own. My feathers are slick with it, and with the bout yesterday.

Bathing is not something I care for anymore. I don’t want to do anything but fight, eat, and fight again. If I sleep, the dark and the light return.

I do not wish to see them again.

The Oykig charges and I slice away part of his tail, sending him fleeing from me. I don’t follow. The crowd jeers but the wound is a fatal one if he doesn’t get treatment in time, and it’s up to him to make that choice, not me.

The two Habosu look at each other, clearly deciding which one of us they will take on. With a roar, the one opposite Rych leaps for me, just as his compatriot decides to go for Rych. They collide in mid air, heads knocking against each other before falling to the ground in a heap.

I plant the point of my sword on the dusty floor of the Sartak dome and lean on the pommel. Rych stares at the prone Habosu.

“Is this all they have?” I query as the doors at the far end open and the entrance fills with black clad guards.

Rych’s face is dark with all the violence he wants to expend and, like me, has been denied.

“This is a vrex-show,” he growls.

I attempt to shake my feathers, but they don’t rattle anymore. I’m pretty sure I can’t fly. Exhaustion settles on me and I can’t give in to it.

“Ready?” I query, lifting my sword.

“Again?” Rych queries.

“I want a fight. So do you,” I respond.

He growls under his breath, head bowed, chin on his chest. “Yes.” The word is barely audible.

The guards approach and we make ready, until the lights go out.

Both of us have great eyesight, especially in the dark, and I see the forcefield strengthen to the point it becomes opaque and the number of guards triples.

This time we’re not going to get a fight.

I drop my sword. All I want is my Izzy in my arms. It’s the only thing I want, the only thing I need, and the one thing denied to me. Letting the dark and the light in might be the only option.

When the lights come back on, we’re surrounded, but it’s not a surprise.

“This is not the reason you were sent here.” The Sartak procurator steps through the ring of guards.

The tall, horned Cynos gazes at us, his silver skin pulling in the light rather than reflecting it as would be expected. My head hurts looking at him. He remains horribly familiar, the dark and the light embodied.

I hate him.

I want to kill him, but Rych moves between us.

“You wanted us to fight, so we’re fighting,” he says. “But we were sent here. It’s not like there is any incentive for us to fight…well.”

The Cynos snorts, his nostril holes flaring in his blank face, his dark eyes giving nothing away.

“I need you to make credits. You’ll do what you did back in Tatatunga, put on a show.” He huffs. “Get him cleaned up.” He points at me. “And do better next time.”

I shake my wings and Rych gives me a warning glance.

I’m too far gone to care about myself. I need the violence.

“, don’t…” Rych hisses. “You have a mate who wants you back in one piece. They won’t kill you, they need you, but they will maim you if they think it suits their purposes.”

I growl, the sound filling the area, causing some of the guards to shift position.

“Back. It. Down,” Rych murmurs. “There’s a time for this, but it isn’t now.”

I glare at the procurator, then I shove my way past him, shouldering the guards out of the way as I leave the arena and make my way through the ante-chamber, the clerks scattering ahead of me.

“Where’s the baths?” I snarl, grabbing one as he scurries past.

“Second floor,” he squeaks.

“Have food sent in.”

I release him with a push which causes him to slam against a nearby wall and head for the ramp leading up into the gladiator areas. Here and there, clerks of varying species scuttle away from me as I climb to the second floor, where I follow my nose until I reach the baths.

I tamp down the feeling in my breast when I think of the bath I shared with my Izzy. Instead I walk in without bothering to remove my clothing. The hot water stings my skin as I go deeper until I’m completely submerged. I hold my breath, letting the water flow over me, attempting to clear my head and concentrate.

When I rise, Rych is in the pool next to me, arms propped on the edge. He takes a sweetmeat from a platter and shoves it in his mouth.

“I told them you weren’t drowning yourself,” he says while chewing. “I also told them the food was for me.”

I snarl at him, pulling the platter in my direction before getting out of my pool which is a decidedly unpleasant color, stripping off my soaked apparel, and dropping into another clean bath opposite him. The excess water flows into his bath and causes a wave which swamps him.

“Vrexer.” He grins at me. “I presume there’s a plan?”

“Plan? I don’t plan. I’m getting out of here and going back to Tatatunga for my mate. Are you in?” I gobble down some of the food items, paying little attention to how they taste.

“You’re going to escape?”

“I’m not staying in this vrexing place with the…” I hold back from naming the Cynos as my mortal enemy, “procurator in charge. He can’t run a dome and he will kill us one way or another.”

“True.” Rych lifts a goblet of wine which I didn’t spot. “And Sartak is boring.” He yawns and I feel any energy I’ve taken from the food sapping away. “But getting out of here isn’t going to be easy. Even if everything else is a mess, their security is top-notch,” he grumbles. “And we’re not getting passes any time soon.”

“You think I always stayed in the dome when I didn’t have a pass?” I quirk the corner of my mouth up in the way I often did when I had my eregri in my arms.

“Explains a lot,” Rych says, swallowing the contents of his goblet and wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. “So, what’s the not-plan?”

“We need more gladiators.”