The Colosseum

Date With Death

Ten

I was 10 steps out of view of the palace when a blur of white and black came form the shadows to claim me. Though I was still handled roughly, I was without a black sack over my head. The anonymous driver of a sleek black car pulled up from seemingly out of nowhere, and without hesitation, we ordered ourselves in the back. Curiously, I looked out the window, the world that was supposed to be mine passing by me in fluid motion. Like last time, the car starts to slow after 30 minutes when we reach a specific destination.

"Why are we here?" I mumble, staring through the windshield and at a greenhouse designated for plants with chemically harvestable parts. That must've been what I smelled in that underground basement before, where the makeshift stadiums were. "Doesn't Ezra's righthand manage this place?"

Per usual, there's no talking or even the sound of breathing. Like ghosts, these people exist. They seem to think with the same mind and move with the same body, with the central hub being the Ice Queen. So, perhaps, if I want an answer to my question, the Ice Queen is the one I need to ask so her minions can answer.

We pull around back, the car gliding down into the underground chamber, the wheels mute on the sleek metal ramp. Nobody from the farm comes out to see who we are or what's going on, as if they've permitted their workplace to be the hideout of a notorious enemy. With what I know thus far about just Annette's connections, the Ice Queen having more of Ezra's kingpins under her thumb isn't out of grasp.

Squished between two massive soldiers, when they finally unload from the car, I feel like I can breathe. Scooting towards the door to get out, too, they're slammed behind the norther warriors, with the locks clicking behind them. The last one to get out is the driver, and together, the group of black-and-white-clad fighters leave my sight. No less than five minutes later, someone approaches the left door. I take that as my cue and glide to the right, giving the new passenger some space.

Soundless like the rest of them, the figurehead of the Ice Queen enters the vehicle. "The letter is delivered?" her husky voice inquires, looking straight ahead at the seat in front of her.

"Right to their hands," I confirm. "So, exactly how is this endgame working?"

"You read the letter, didn't you? It had all of the instructions."

"I guess what I don't understand is why I suddenly have permission to kill you. Your people would die for you, it seems. I want in with them, but you're letting me raise the sword. Why?"

"For me, it's more of a chance to see how much you've grown since I met you. And on the chance you manage to defeat me, then the crown is yours, as it should be for anyone capable of my demise."

I nod, feeling like I'm only now scratching the surface on the philosophy of the north, or at least the Ice Queen. Though the woman next to me might not be the real queen, she still speaks on behalf of the real deal. "I consider myself pretty intelligent, you know. I don't forget a face when I see one, and I don't recall ever seeing you. We've never met."

"I consider you intelligent, too. We both know I'm not fooling anyone, but my word is gospel from the queen herself."

"And do I ever get to see her face?" I nag. "Or is that against the rules until the fight ends tomorrow? Knowing who to go after gives me too much of an edge, I suppose."

"We'll all be in disguise, so it doesn't matter. Showing her real face has always been risky for obvious reasons, but recently, being able to even operate and order her people around has been difficult. She isn't one who needs to apologize, but please forgive her for being so scarce."