Whispers (Book 3 of Wielder series)

Chapter 13 - The Cost of Victory

It didn't take long for the brutes to finish off their victim. Alie refused to look in their direction as they lifted bloodied fists into the air, encouraging the crowds to cheer them on.

   Instead, she watched the red-haired woman. She moved with the fluidity of someone who had been born and raised to fight. She barely even seemed to need the knife she held, preferring to let her opponent tire himself while trying to attack her.

   But when the woman noticed the two brutes heading her way, she changed tactics.

   With a quick sweep of her arm, the knife flew from her hand. It buried itself to the hilt in the head of the larger brute, stunning him and causing him to fall. A collective gasp rose up from the watching soldiers - and Alie as well - before a roaring cheer shook the room.

   The woman barely looked in the brutes' direction. Her knife throw had distracted her opponent. She used that moment to launch herself at him, grabbing him around the neck and tackling him to the ground. She grasped the man's head in her hands and twisted.

   The man slipped out of her grip to the dusty floor, limp.

   Alie felt the blood drain from her face.

   The remaining brute looked at his dead comrade, then at the other fallen prisoners around the arena. Grinning, he shook his fists in the air. Another wave of cheers swelled around them.

   The woman wiped her mouth on her sleeve. Slowly, she pushed herself off her opponent. When the brute's back was turned, she glanced up at Alie.

   The brute didn't seem to realize she was there. He called to the guards on the other side of the cage, calling them to announce him as victorious. He waved to them - waved! Like he was some kind of celebrity! - and pointed to one of the doors that had granted them access to the arena.

   The red-haired woman stood still, silent and waiting, like a cat on the prowl.

   Alie clung to the cage bars. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before the brute realized she survived. Then he and the red-haired woman would team up to come after her.

   But as the brute called for his praise, the red-haired woman did not alert him to Alie's location. Instead, she watched Alie with an intense gaze, then jerked her head toward the brute suggestively. 

   Alie understood. The woman wanted to take the brute down. And she wanted Alie's help to do it.

   Alie nodded in agreement.

   There was only one way Alie could think of to be helpful. As her palms began to sweat and her nerves caused her to tremble, she made her way across the cage, closer to the brute. She had no idea how far up she hung; it had to at least be twenty feet. She's never dropped that far without a rope to catch her, before. If she fell wrong, or missed, or just hit the ground too hard, she could break her legs.

   But broken legs were better than being hunted down and brutally murdered.

   She unwound her legs from the bars, dangling high above the arena floor. Carefully, she began to swing, just a little to help propel her in the right direction. And just as the brute began to understand the warning calls of the guards and decided to turn around...

   Alie let go.

   Her descent lasted longer than she thought it would. Anyone smaller than him would have had ample time to get out of the way. But the brute was large and too slow. His eyes widened at the sight of her falling towards him.

   Her feet collided with his chest, and the two of them crashed to the ground.

   Alie tried to roll. Her body crumpled, but hit the ground hard. She heard a pop, and fire shot down her arm and across her upper back. She slid across the arena floor.