Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(69)

Without another word, the crone climbed the dark steps and stood behind Torin.

From my position in the tunnel, I watched as Moria and Cleena entered the arena. Like me, Moria wore dark leather, while Cleena was clad in a thin platinum suit. I could tell from Moria’s stance that she was a skilled swordswoman. She held the blade loosely, but it didn’t waiver. Cleena, however, appeared to be shaking. I’d never actually seen her nervous before, but she seemed completely out of place.

From the stone platform, the crone opened her mouth and shrieked, “Begin the fight!”

As the crowd cheered, the princesses began to circle each other, blades glinting in the sunlight.

Moria struck first, and Cleena’s blade flashed up. It was a good parry, but she barely deflected Moria’s attack.

She stepped back, holding her blade ready. Moria lunged, and Cleena was hardly able to deflect the strike. Moria, clearly sensing she had the upper hand, began to circle the banshee princess. Every few seconds, she lunged, stabbing.

Cleena continued to defend herself, but her parries were late, each time only just deflecting Moria’s blade. Moria’s burgundy hair flashed in the sunlight as she controlled the arena. She held her rapier high, pointing it at Cleena’s heart.

She darted forward, her full weight behind the strike. Cleena tried to deflect it, but Moria drove her rapier home, stabbing it through Cleena’s shoulder. Cleena fell to her knees, screaming in pain. It was the cry of a banshee ringing across the icy landscape, and I covered my ears.

But the fight was still going, and Cleena rose to her feet. She backed away from Moria, blood dripping from her shoulder. “Moria,” she said, almost pleadingly.

Moria ignored her, striking again, this time stabbing low. Her blade punched through Cleena’s right thigh.

The Banshee princess shrieked as blood spurted onto the icy ground.

“Two to zero,” shouted the crone, her eyes flashing with excitement. She let out a laugh that sounded unhinged.

Moria circled like a vulture over an injured gazelle. I could tell from her body language she knew she’d already won. All Cleena could do was limp away, trying to stay out of range of Moria’s sword.

Pain etched her features, and she was whispering something I couldn’t hear. Probably trying to give up.

Slowly, Moria stalked her, her body tense with excitement. Cleena’s injured leg gave out, and she stumbled, dropping to one knee. Moria stood over her, victorious, but she didn’t strike. Instead she looked to me. Our eyes met. A faint smile played on her lips, then she slowly winked at me.

She raised her sword, ready to bring it down onto Cleena’s head— “Enough!” Torin’s voice filled the arena, and Moria froze.

Torin rose from his throne, holding out his hand. “You’ve won, Princess Moria. There is no need to execute her now. You have won.”

I let out a long, slow breath. If it hadn’t been for that wink, he might not have been able to stop it.

Next time, I thought darkly, Moria would strike before he could intercede.

I just had to make sure she didn’t get the chance.

ETAIN STRODE INTO THE ARENA DRESSED IN PALE ARMOR, HER HAIR BRAIDED ON HER HEAD. SHE STOOD

across from Sydoc, who wore metallic boots and a crimson cap over her black hair. With a jolt of nausea, I realized Sydoc had already soaked her hat in someone’s blood. Where the fuck had that come from?

When Sydoc smiled, I caught a hint of fangs.

But Etain didn’t seem scared. In fact, her smile was just as terrifying, and she looked ready for blood.

Etain attacked first, immediately striking Sydoc in the shoulder. The Redcap roared, on the attack now. She was brutal, ferocious, and her black hair flew behind her as she drove Etain back. Etain was fast, but Sydoc was faster. She cornered the beautiful Etain against the wall and drove her blade clean into Etain’s neck, severing her jugular.

Blood poured from Etain’s throat, her eyes wide with horror. Even from here, I could see the light leaving Etain’s eyes. Sydoc ripped out her sword, and Etain’s lifeless body slumped to the ground, her blood pooling on the ice.

But it wasn’t enough for Sydoc. She brought her metal boot down hard on Etain’s ribs.

Etain wasn’t alive anymore. This was simply some sort of crazed bloodlust.

The crowd roared their approval.

Holy shit. What was wrong with these people?

At last, catching her breath, Sydoc leaned down and dipped her cap in Etain’s blood, soaking up the gore. She pulled the hat onto her black hair, her face beaming.

She lifted her sword, victorious before the crowd, Etain’s blood streaming down her face.

IN THE TUNNEL, ELIZA AND I EXCHANGED NERVOUS LOOKS, HER PREVIOUS CONFIDENCE COMPLETELY

gone. Now, she merely looked terrified. And I couldn’t blame her.

Torin’s head was bowed, his expression solemn. I stared as someone carried Etain’s body into one of the tunnels.

The crone hobbled down the steps again, the wind whipping at her hair. She wore a grin that sent a chill through me.

“The next duel will be between Princess Eliza and Ava Jones.”

My heart began to thunder, and I stepped slowly into the arena with Eliza by my side.

The winter winds toyed with her green hair, her locks shimmering in the pale sunlight. She took her position across from me, holding a thin rapier loosely in her right hand, her shoulders slumped.