Page 56 of Crown of Death

Slowly, I follow him, sinking into the seat besidehim.

“Are you all right?” I quietly breathe without looking over athim.

Instead of answering, Cyrus extends his hand, scooping up mine. Without looking at me, he raises it to his lips and presses a kiss to myknuckles.

Another silentthank you. An admission that no, he is not allright.

The crowd clears from the stage, leaving only two people behind. A man, tall and skinny, and a woman, tall and built. They each wield asword.

A cold sweat breaks out across my skin. My stomach feels as if it dissolves inside ofme.

This isreal.

Those are sharp blades. This is anarena.

And there will be bloodspilt.

“Fight!” Cyrusbellows.

Both of the contestants rush forward, swinging theirblades.

The woman immediately connects with the man’s arm. I watch as if in slow motion, as it slices cleanly through his flesh. There isn’t even time for the blood to spill before the blade hits bone, and as if made of steel, the blade bouncesback.

The man gives a roar of pain, clasping his hand to his arm as blood gushes from the wound. Feebly, he darts to the other side of the arena, no more than a blur, but the woman is instantly there in front of him, dealing another crushing blow. He staggers back, his eyes igniting brightred.

The woman raises a foot and kicks it hard into hischest.

He sails across the arena, skidding on his back. A wheezing sound comes across his lips, his head knocking backward, hard against thefloor.

The woman raises her hands in the air, declaring herself thevictor.

The last manstanding.

I understand the rule now. The first to fall to the ground iseliminated.

I look over to Cyrus to see him leaning forward, a wicked gleam in hiseye.

I told them they would deserve whatever punishment he gave them, for causing him so much grief and pain earlier. Was that a mistake? Was I wrong? Because I certainly didn’t understand the levels of brutality the man beside me would resultto.

The next opponents step onto the bloodied stage. Two men, both huge in stature. Both with glowing redeyes.

“Fight!” Cyrusdeclares.

They rush forward, swordsswinging.

Blood splatters onto the stage as they each take blow after blow. It’s incredible to watch, really. They move with such speed at times I can hardly even tell where they are. And they both take strikes that would lob human limbs from bodies, over andover.

Bloodied and weak, one of the men slips to his knee. And it’s a fatal mistake. He looks up at his opponent, just in time for him to swing a punch into hisface.

The man sails back, landing flat on hisback.

A cheer from the crowd sounds from a woman and anotherman.

I’m trying to understand the Houses. It seems they at least live in close proximity. I know from what Cyrus has said that at least some of them marry one another. They even have children sometimes. I would think they would be likefamily.

But these people, they swing swords at one another, and the look in their eyes, I swear, they really would kill one another to win. Even though there is no realprize.

“Do they not like each other?” I ask as the next set of opponents step up. “It certainly doesn’t look like it. If they’d just as soon kill each other, why do they all live with eachother?”