I adjust my tunic, tugging the neck closed at top, as Caben and I fall in behind the other contenders. I curse and rub my arms, frustrated that I didn’t wait till I was fully settled. The silver fades, and so does my anger when I see the look of concern on Bax’s face—his pinched brows. But it vanishes quickly as he sneers and raises his hand.
“Contenders,” he booms. “Today commences the Reckoning. You have three nights to compete and defeat.” He chuckles, low and gravely. “Each contender will face-off against another to display their skills. Then on the third and last night, after all bets are placed, a final battle with the winning, remaining contenders will prove who is champ. And the freedom ring will go to the victor.”
I must lose my mind, because I speak out. “Three nights,” I say. “But—”
Bax’s eyes target me through the bodies. Every contender in the master cell turns their head in my direction. I take a step back. Then I force my head up, chin high. Caben steps closer to my side.
“You have a question, protector?” Bax says, his voice dark. “Speak up. Let’s hear it.”
Swallowing down my nerves, I say, “The Reckoning is to take place on the full moon, the dark priest said.” His eyes grow wide at the mention of his father’s words. They glow brighter as the spires snap their violent currents. “How can the Reckoning be three nights?”
A sly smile splits his mouth. “This time is special. The stars have aligned and an imbalance in the universe has begun. This full moon will last for three nights, protector.” He winks. “Best get prepared for a brutal battle.”
Shocked that he answered me, and that he provided information, I consider Bax. Tilting my head, I study his weathered features as he turns to the other contenders and barks orders.
Caben grasps my hand. “Let’s shower,” he says in my ear.
My eyes flick to his rugged face. “Together?”
Despite the tension in the room and our impending death, he laughs. It sends a tingle rippling through my stomach.
I hope the next three nights doesn’t steal that laugh.
After I’ve dressed in a fresh, faded blue tunic and pants, I hustle to our chamber. Caben is still bathing in one of the other shower units, and I want to do something before he returns.
Taking the crumpled, balled-up blanket from the corner, I unwrap my protector uniform. I set my chest harness aside and stare at the darkened fabric where the protector emblem used to be. Running my fingers over the dingy fabric, I allow its strength to steal over me, then I head down the tunnel toward the waterfall.
In the shallow pool that gathers below the trickling water, I submerge my tattered and filthy uniform, soaking it before rubbing the fabric together between my hands. I may never wear it again, but I can at least leave it in pristine condition.
Once I’ve gotten out as much dust and grit as possible, I ring it and drape it over my arms before passing the other contenders on my way back to the chamber. Trying to ignore their curious stares, I disappear into the dark tunnel once again.
I push open the door to find Caben tying the string of his pants. He looks at me, and his face is clean and smooth.
“You shaved,” I say. Admittedly, I was starting to like the rougher, less princely appearance. But I can’t deny that he’s beautiful both ways. I think back to that first moment when he stormed the temple, blazing mad. He was beautiful even with his pomp.
He crooks a smile. “I wanted to look sharp for my adoring fans.” He moves closer and takes my hand, pushing aside the uniform. “The Prince of Pain has many, you know.”
A smile twitches at my lips. Our moment together rushes back to me in clear, vivid detail, and heat spreads across the back of my neck. I thought I’d be more nervous, or it’d be awkward to be alone with him again, but it’s as natural as breathing.
I give my head a shake and focus my thoughts on our situation. As much as I want to indulge in his humor, the thought of him fighting in the Cage scares me, and I can’t laugh this time. “We have a plan,” I say. “Lilly and I worked it out last night, but we’re going to need contenders from all the leagues to rebel against their ring leaders.”
Caben’s brows shoot up. “Oh, is that all?”
I press my lips together. I thought it sounded impossible, too. “What else can we do?”
He looks down at our joined hands and eyes my protector uniform. “Looks like you’re plotting something else.”
I move out of his grasp and stretch my uniform across the bed to dry. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. And maybe there is a way for me to use my ability for good. I could convince Bax that I received a message from Bale—some missive that could sway his father to stop the Reckoning.”
Caben runs his hands over his face and groans. “Yes, about that,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not quite sure that’s a good strategy anymore.”
“But it was your idea—”
“I know.” His mouth tugs down at the corners. “But it’s too dangerous. I didn’t know everything when I stated it, and that would put you directly in their sight. What if they decide they can summon a direct link to their goddess just by carving you up and using your ‘blessed’ blood themselves?”
I cringe, remembering when I thought the same thing. “I don’t know why, but I think Bax is different.”
“Different?” He puffs out a heavy breath. “He’s a crazed Otherworlder. I think we have a better chance of convincing Crew and the others to start a rebellion.”