Mistrust tried to steal its way back into her heart. Had Elora sent him to make her reveal where the young dragon was?
The stranger didn't wait for an answer; instead, he looked intently into her eyes. "Believe in yourself and you'll find a way to survive this!" With those words, he retreated into the shadows and merged with them before she could reply.
She was left alone—alone in the ice-cold cage in the arena—and yet with more than before his visit. There was a stone, inconspicuous in her hand, meant to protect her from magic; there was a dagger she could use to defend herself; and there was a cup of tea in her hand, its warmth spreading through her body with each sip until it reached her heart—the very spot where, until recently, the heartbeat of the little dragon had been nestled.
The thought of him, of Lilly, and yes, even of Kilian, fueled her will to survive. She no longer just wanted to get out of this cage; she wanted to return to all of them. And she would do everything in her power, leave no stone unturned, to achieve that goal.
Chapter 29
Acrowd of people noisily made their way down the steps to the arena. They chatted, laughed, kicked up dust, and seemed to be in high spirits.
Ava heard them but didn't look. Her gaze was fixed on the sand, the stakes, the stands, the iron chains. If she estimated the sun's position correctly, about two hours had passed since the stranger had brought her the tea. She didn't know how long in total she had been in the cage.
After he had left, she had practiced strikes with the dagger to familiarize herself with its weight and handling, had jumped to keep warm, and had continuously reminded herself why she wanted to get out of this arena alive. Although the cup of herbal tea had long since been emptied and hidden in a corner, and although the wind blew mercilessly through the bars into her cage, hope had remained, along with an iron will.
She felt the gentle pulsing, as if the young dragon was nearby, but she pushed the feeling aside. She had to stay focused, wouldn't give up. She wouldn't passivelyreact to what the sorceress had planned for her. On the contrary, she would actively try everything to fight for her freedom.
The spectators poured into the stands. Their conversations formed a monotonous background noise as Elora entered the arena. The hem of her dark dress dragged over the sand and stirred up dust, yet not a single particle settled on her garment to dull the black. With a harsh gesture, she ordered two of her henchmen to go to Ava's cage.
Arms spread wide, she looked at the audience taking their seats in the stands. "Rejoice, for today you will witness a special spectacle. The oh-so desperately longed-for first guardian in centuries will demonstrate to you that she is nothing more than a defenseless, weak woman. A nobody on whom no sensible person should pin their hopes. Nobody who could be dangerous to us!"
She turned to Ava, a calculating smile on her lips. "Let the games begin." She strutted to the section of the stands that was decorated with fabrics and chest-high candle holders, where there stood a chair with golden decorations no less ornate than those on the throne inside the castle. Raising financial resources was obviously not a problem for the mages.
She took her seat on the ruler's chair and leaned back in a regal manner. Could she perhaps have noble blood in her after all?
Ava positioned herself at the edge of the cage and jumped up and down to get ready, to see what was going on, to know what to expect. And to maintain her will to survive. If no one from the audience was cheering for her, she would have to do it herself. She wouldn't let herself be discouraged. Whatever was planned, she would?—
The main gate of the arena opened, and a man entered the fighting grounds who looked more ordinary than she had felt before her conversation with the stranger. He wasn't particularly tall, his body not particularly strong. But the loud cheering of the spectators warned Ava not to underestimate him.
He had shoulder-length dark brown hair that he had tucked behind his ears, a pale complexion, and a narrow upper body draped in a midnight blue cloak with gold embroidery that reflected the sunlight.
He ran to the center of the arena to the sound of thunderous applause. The spectators jumped up, clapped, and cheered. A chant traveled through the rows, and everyone present joined in.
"Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!"
Since he looked downright scrawny, it must not have been muscle power that he was there to show off. No, it was probably his magical powers that excited the audience.
Her opponent raised his arms and the applause grew even louder. All the same, Ava heard the soft clicking sound as the door to her cage was unlocked. Her helper was right. She couldn't just react. She had to take action if she wanted to survive.
She stepped out of the cage, holding the dagger in one hand. The mage looked at it with a snort. The Isip stone, which she had wrapped around the handle with the leather strap, disappeared under her palm.
"A blade? That's what you want to take me on with?"
"Better than nothing."
Ava didn't take her eyes off him, her fingers hooked around her weapon. She walked towards him, then stopped a few meters away and observed him.
When he made no move to rush at her, she bracedherself for a supernatural attack—which promptly ensued. He raised his hands, muttered something, and kept his gaze fixed on her. A hazy sphere formed between his palms, barely as big as a fist, that lightning bolts hissed through. He drew back and threw the projectile at Ava.
Quickly, she raised the dagger. Before the sphere touched the blade, she managed to deflect it. With a loud bang, it landed at the edge of the stands and dissolved into thin air. The visitors sitting nearby screamed.
The mage narrowed his eyes as a murmur went through the crowd of spectators. "What kind of blade is that?"
"Not one that can stop a powerful mage like you, right?" She didn't know if it was wise to provoke him, but playing the frightened mouse didn't align with her newfound will to survive.
Arthur observed her, the arrogance still in his dark eyes. He quickly raised his hands and formed another energy ball. From its red color alone, it was clear that this projectile was different. As he fired it at her, she brandished the blade, but this time she couldn't completely deflect the attack. Part of the magic penetrated the blade and the weapon slipped from her hand. She managed to grasp the handle with her left hand before the dagger landed in the sand. This saved her life, for the mage had already launched the next attack. Quick as lightning, a second fire-red bolt shot towards her.
The projectile flew unimpeded towards her chest as Arthur was already conjuring the next attack between his palms. She quickly raised the dagger. Although the stone couldn't completely shield her from the magic,she managed to endure the impact without losing her grip on the weapon. She even mostly deflected the next one, but a small part still penetrated her body this time. It felt like electric shocks. Each time a lightning bolt hit the blade, they grew stronger and traveled further up her arm. Eventually, they reached her shoulder and spread across her chest. It burned like fire.
