The crowd roared all around her as the fight came to a climax – Stathis blocked a strike before Vissa charged from behind her, twin blades flashing. One of their opponents had green-tinged skin, shining with sweat, trickles of blood running down bare flesh from their wounds. Their armour was largely ornamental, very brightly coloured and flashy, but not covering much of their bodies. The other was one of the guards.

‘And so we meet again, my steely friend!’ Krizek lunged, Stathis simply stepping away to drain momentum from the strike, letting Vissa attack them both. As they turned to face Vissa, Stathis stepped back in, slamming her hilt into Krizek’s exposed back, then shoving them away and smacking them with her blade. They tried to protect themselves but couldn’t move fast enough as Stathis kept attacking them until they tumbled to the floor. They raised their hands in surrender, Stathis tapping her sword against their shoulder and nicking it with another wound before stepping away, letting them scrabble away.

That left just one, currently engaged in combat with Vissa. A blade flicked out, managing to strike Vissa on her arm where there wasn’t armour, cutting the skin, blood trickling downwards. Vella didn’t hesitate though, lunging back with her own attacks, cutting at them from both directions, until they staggered backwards and fell to the ground.

Stathis raised her blade, making it catch the bright sunlight, Vissa matching the motion as the crowd roared. How big was Setha that so many people could come to this kind of thing? The Colosseum was packed, tens of thousands of people filling the place, the roars deafening. Several boxes looked down on them, the only places with actual shade for the audience. Stathis could see the bulk of Zarazonnia, her scales a bright and vivid green – did she polish them, or at least get a flunky to do it for her? A figure in bright red must be Janaxia, a dowdier and darker figure next to her, Poratia. Other dignitaries were around them, all dressed in their finery. And probably betting on who would win!

The cheers increased as Stathis held her blade high, before flicking it clean and sheathing it. Vissa preened and posed for longer, doing some twirls and twists with her swords, as she approached close to Stathis. ‘We should leave. Before the between-fights entertainment is released.’

The losers were already limping away, heading towards a shadowy entrance. Another one, the bars currently down, was too dark to see into, but she heard a loud growl from the darkness. Stathis began to walk towards the exit, not wanting to fight whatever was about to emerge.

It was a relief to enter the cavernous space, the air cooler. Healing potions were provided, lettering Stathis recover from a few minor bruises from strikes that had managed to do something through her armour. The loosing pair sat down with heavy sighs, as a portcullis clanked into place, sealing them away from the Colosseum floor.

A growl sounded out from the open space, as a monstrously huge leonine shape padded into view, a spiked scorpion tail flicking about over its head. It had the maimed remnants of wings on its back, tattered and broken, useless for flying with. Vissa squealed in excitement and moved close to the bars to watch as another group of fighters ran in, armed with long spears and nets. The beast roared at them before jumping forward, smacking one of them to the ground so hard they bounced, bones crunching. Stathis shuddered as the crowd roared again.

‘That was Gathrek. Shame, he had potential, could’ve gone somewhere!’ Vissa chugged another potion, wounds fading as she watched the fight – it seemed evenly matched, the beast’s ferocity proving a match for the better weaponry and reach of the fighters. The crowd roared again.

‘Does it go on until one side drops?’

‘Until their lifeblood soaks the ground, then none shall leave. To feed the altar.’ She stuck her arm through the portcullis and pointed towards the far end of the arena, where a raised pile of earth was topped with a slab of black stone. The earth was covered with bones and fragments of weapons and armour, dark and worn, stark compared to the white sand that covered the rest of the arena floor. Even in the bright sunlight, the altar looked like a slab of solid darkness.

‘The winners shall be declared atop the altar!’

‘And then what? Does it eat their souls or anything? It looks pretty ominous.’

Vissa gave her an odd look. ‘No! Those of the highest rank typically bid for the right to have them as personal guards. It is a high honour. I hope to be selected for such a position myself. Although Queen Zarazonnia’s insistence of this sort of thing may make others think me cowardly.’ She rapped a knuckle against her own chest, wincing in distaste. ‘Scarcely what a true warrior should wear. Uh, no offense.’

Stathis resisted the urge to punch her breastplate again to make a point. ‘Sure it doesn’t eat souls or anything? It looks like it should. Or people are sacrificed on it?’

‘Oh, that happens sometimes. Or used to. But not for years now – it’s boring to see. Even if you’re in the front row, it’s just someone in a robe stabbing a tied-up victim a few times. There’s no sport involved, nothing fun, no sport.’

Part of the shadows rippled, Stathis taking a step to the side in case it was Rath. Instead Skotadi’s face appeared for a second, a hand gesturing at Stathis before vanishing. She left Vissa to watch the fight, heading into a quiet corner of the cavern. Around her, other fighters were preparing their gear and getting ready, or resting up after a fight. There was a wide variety of weapons and armour on display, although a lot seemed to be on the “flashy” side of the scale, with very little of it standardised, and the armour mostly displayed the wearer’s body rather than being fully protective.

When she was in a quiet corner she turned around and leaned on the wall, glad that the helmet hid her expression as she tried to spot Skotadi, or at least the strange broiling in the darkness that seemed to presage her presence.

‘Are you there?’

‘I am not some minion to be summoned at need!’ Her voice came from a darker patch of shadows, Stathis resisting the urge to reach out and grab her. ‘But yes, I am here.’

‘Good. Is Janaxia doing OK? I guess if she’s with Zarazonnia, then Poratia won’t be trying anything. Have you got any useful information?’

‘Oh? You require things of me? And what can you supply, puny mortal?’

‘You’re meant to be helping me, remember? To help Janaxia. How was the spying?’

‘Hmph. For her, I will aid you. But this is purely for her sake!’

‘Sure. Just tell me what you’ve found out.’

‘Rath intends to betray you.’ Skotadi sounded bizarrely smug.

‘No shit, I was taking that as a given. Given she’s pretty obviously Poratia’s tool, then I was assuming that she was going to try and take me down at some point, and maybe attack Janaxia as well. Poratia won’t want Janaxia having any allies, so she’ll want me gone. Any idea where Rath is now? Probably lurking somewhere.’

Skotadi looked shocked. ‘You expect a betrayal? Perhaps there is less foolishness in you than I thought.’

‘Seemed pretty obvious. Any specifics on what she’s going to do?’

‘That one will no longer be a problem.’ Skotadi’s face wavered into existence, her tongue flicking over her sharp teeth, as she raised a finger to her lips and licked it, some dark powder there. ‘She thought herself safe in the darkness. But that is where I reign!’

‘You ate her soul or something, didn’t you?’

Skotadi shrugged and licked her fingers again, tongue twirling around a digit. ‘Such a weak little thing, wrapped in tattered shade! Barely even a snack.’

Stathis tapped her hand against her sword hilt, making the pommel glow with light. The shadows vanished, Skotadi suddenly appearing fully.

She growled. ‘Wretched mortal! How dare you rip away my protections! If you were not vital to Janaxia’s defence, I would do what I can do destroy you.’

‘Don’t go around eating people’s souls! Does anyone know yet? That means I’m a person down for the next round as well. How well can you fight?’

Skotadi tried to walk away, but Stathis grabbed her arm before she could vanish.

‘You can probably fling the same bolts as Janaxia, right? So stick in the shadows and hurl those, and hide the rest of the time. Going out there and being outnumbered is going to be hard.’ The shadows shifted about, unable to penetrate into the area of light. ‘If Janaxia can fight in combat, you should be able to as well. Just try and stay hidden.’

‘For this boon I grant you, I shall expect recompense, mortal! You may make offerings of wine. And meat! The finest, from sacrificial cows, bred just for my pleasure.’

‘Only a small amount of wine. But I can probably swing something, if we get away from here. Anyway, have you been able to find out anything about Poratia?’

Skotadi hissed. ‘She wards herself well! Even with my great power, I struggle to penetrate into her sanctum. But she mistreats Janaxia, and so deserves retribution and suffering. I have heard her speak to Rath, of removing you. Her plans are wreathed in mystery, that cannot yet be penetrated.’

‘Sure. So, I guess you don’t know how what she’s actually doing? Just seeking magical artefacts, but she hasn’t realised that Janaxia’s carrying one yet?’

‘Hmph. She has power but no wisdom. Janaxia is far better, and more attractive!’

‘Not going to argue with you there, but if we get in a fight with Poratia, it will end badly. So we deal with Poratia if we can, otherwise we just try and stay out of her way, and make sure Janaxia’s doing OK.’ Metal clanged as a body was thrown against the portcullis, the lion-monster pouncing and biting off a limb, blood spurting out. Skotadi turned to look in bright-eyed interest, Stathis dispelling her light to let Skotadi fade back into shadows, vanishing from sight. ‘When we go out there again, you’re coming with us. And then you might get a treat.’

‘Hsssss… You shall reward me with all the glories of the world!’

‘You can have a glass of wine, and maybe some food.’

‘Hmph. This deal is… acceptable.’

There were more shouts and yells from outside, accompanied by growls of pain. Stathis went to go and see – the monster was now on the defensive, the attackers having managed to form a line, their spears keeping it at a distance. Blood was streaming down the huge body, and it was starting to slow down, as the scorpion tail lashed forward, skewering another fighter. They dropped their spear and staggered away, sinking to the ground, coughing up blood.

Vissa was still rapt with attention as Stathis tapped her on the back. ‘You ready for the next fight? Change of plan – we’re going to have some ranged support.’

‘Such things are not how a true warrior fights! Although Rath does strike me as something of a coward, more suited to blades in the dark than true combat.’

‘Well, it wasn’t really my choice. So, uh, what happens if the monster wins? They just send someone else in after it?’

‘Oh no. It would be left there while the next fight happens.’

‘Really? Let’s hope they kill it, then. That thing looks powerful!’

More spears jabbed home, one fighter charging in with a knife and skidding beneath it, managing to hamstring the beast. It slapped at them with another paw, the broken body flying through the air, before staggering around. With its mobility crippled, it was having more difficulty protecting itself, roar sounding out but clearly pained now.

‘I don’t think it’ll be much longer.’

Vissa was right, more and more spears jabbing home, until the creature’s body was streaming with blood. It gave another strangled roar, then fell to the ground, desperately flailing and trying to get up. Someone slit its throat, blood turning the arena sand into thick mud as the crowd roared in approval. As the portcullis clanked open, the survivors walked back, dragging the wounded with them. Those that had died were left out there.

‘We’re up again then.’

They headed back into the area, having to walk around the hulking body of the monster, and the pool of blood around it. Stathis looked around, hoping that Skotadi was following as well. On the far side of the arena, where the high walls cast it into shade, something seemed to ripple for a moment – hopefully Skotadi. Emerging from another entrance were their opponents – a lanky, bony figure in wind-tattered leathers, their visible skin covered with tattoos. The pair following behind him were similarly attired, all arms with strangely hooked and curved swords, their hair tied into high topknots.

‘Are these anyone we need to be concerned about?’

‘Zeraigith and some of his followers. They live in the ash.’

‘So probably pretty good, if they have to actually fight, and to get this far? Well, let’s try and get this over with.’

Both groups walked towards each other, weapons at the ready. She’d have to watch out for those swords – the broad hooks on the end of each would probably be used for trying to disarm her. They stopped about a dozen paces away, the leader pointing his sword at Stathis and saying something, the crowd erupting into mocking laughter. Vissa laughed, before catching herself. ‘He said…’

‘I don’t want to know. Let’s just get this over.’ She charged forward, the three of them moving into position, working well as a group to cover each other, blades at the ready.

Bolts of darkness shot outwards from the shadows, a flurry of ill-fitting fabric blinking into existence before vanishing. As the bolts struck home, Stathis attacked as well, jabbing with her sword, trying to create an opening. Metal clanged and she felt resistance through her wrist, as a blade curved over her blade, the leader trying to yank the sword from her hand. Vissa had charged forward, providing convenient cover and disrupting their formation, letting Stathis slide her blade back to keep it under control, metal ringing on metal. They kept trading blows, Stathis feeling the impacts through her armour, narrowly avoiding getting blasted by darkness herself. At least Janaxia bothered aiming!

Stathis barrelled into the middle of them, her and Vissa now back-to-back and surrounded, but with enough space that they couldn’t focus their attacks on one of them. Darkness bloomed into being, a too-familiar blinding cold, acid starting to prickle her skin. Stathis grabbed at Vissa, feeling several strikes smash into her as struck blindly back, feeling a blow connect with something.

It was a relief to get out of the dome of darkness, the heat of the sun hammering down again. One of their enemies staggered outwards from the blackness, Vissa and Stathis glancing at each other before both jumping him, swords swinging, Stathis striking with her shield to knock him back. The other two emerged around the other side, their leather armour looking battered and worn. More bolts struck at them, Stathis giving the one she was fighting a final shove.

With the shadowy dome behind them, their movement was limited, making it impossible for them to make the most of their lighter armour. Stathis was able to keep them on the backfoot, wearing them out, until they both made a break for more open ground, accepting several more strikes.

One attacked her sword, trying to pull it from her hand again, but Stathis simply stepped forward and slammed into them, shoulder fast, sending them sprawling to the ground. She gave them a swift kick before turning her attention to the leader – he bent his fingers into an arcane gesture, a burst of green fire flicking to life along his blade. Stathis couldn’t move fast enough to block the attack, feeling a wave of heat pass through her. When she stepped back, the heat flared up into an explosion, her armour bursting with heat and making her stagger.

He took his chance, smacking his sword against her helmet, making her head ring with the crash of metal and sending her vision askew. She tried to straighten herself up, feeling more impacts, each one sending more heat through her, the armour starting to scorch her body. Her counters were fumbling, a strike just barely connecting.

Vissa charged in with a battle-cry, distracting them for long enough for Stathis to recover herself and sort her vision out. With two of them against one, it was a swift fight, Stathis putting her blade against his neck. He looked surprised but dropped his own weapon and held his hands up, although didn’t look too happy about it.

The sound from the crowd was more muted this time, sounding mildly disappointed, more yells Stathis couldn’t understand. ‘It is considered traditional to kill the defeated.’

They were backing away, not picking up their weapon.

‘Well, tough. I’m starting a new tradition. So, do we wait around here, or do we go back inside or what?’ Stathis moved so that she was stood in the shade of the dead monster, trying to stay out of direct sunlight.

‘We have to wait here to be announced. Our blood will be shed onto the altar, to consecrate our victory.’

‘Can we skip that?’

‘It’s an honour! Only the best of fighters are allowed to bleed upon it.’

‘I’d rather not bleed at all?’

A long wooden ramp was floating, somewhat awkwardly, through the air, forming a bridge down from the royal box. Zarazonnia slithered down it, ignoring the creaks of the wood as it took her weight. She was in finer armour than usual, runes catching the sun, rubies gleaming, black onyx seeming to drink in the sunlight.

Behind her walked several of her followers, all in their regalia, with Janaxia and Poratia following behind them, Poratia looking out of place in her dark and blood-stained robes, although her wizard’s staff seemed to twist in her hand, magical runestones orbiting around her head.

Zarazonnia slithered to a stop, having left a sinuous trail in the sand behind her. She settled back on her tail, looking down at them, fingernails tapping against pommels. ‘Abelard, if you would.’

Her assistant stepped forward, pulling out a wand and tapping it against his other wrist. When he spoke, his voice was magically amplified, booming upwards so that everyone could hear it.

‘The sacrifices are finished! Blood has been shed on the sand! As our ancestors once did, buying their place in the world with combat and strife! Despite there having been somewhat less bloodshed than is traditional…’ He glared at Stathis, who shrugged back. ‘…There is a clear winner! Their blood shall be shed upon the altar, that their strength may become part of us all!’ He looked around, then hissed at Stathis. ‘Where’s the other one? We need all three of you.’

Stathis heard a sudden shifting of sand behind herself, before a half-seen Skotadi appeared. She moved close behind Stathis, her clothing forming into a loose and baggy cloak to cover herself, looking slightly abashed, whispering at her. ‘It is always a pleasure to be honoured! But having so many people look at me is a little uncomfortable.’

‘Just try and look unobtrusive. And keep that cloak on, things might get awkward if Poratia realises you’re not Rath.’

Zarazonnia spoke. ‘And the victors shall proceed to the altar!’

Skotadi pressed closely against Stathis, using her to hide behind, shoulders hunched inwards. They moved as a group towards the raised mound of earth surmounted by the altar.