Carnival of Lies Read Free Page B

of her, and the desire to see her name in one of the coveted top six spots blossomed in Aya. She looked around at the rest of the competitors. Some had the soft look that told her that they’d not make it past the first few rounds. A few fighters—mostly curs—looked like they were willing to eat everyone else alive just for the shock of it. One, Kaleb, was a black mask of a not insignificant reputation. She’d already started gathering information on him. He flashed teeth at her in a smile of sorts as their gazes connected. He was surveying the competition as she was.
    They were all here for the same thing, but most of them would die over the next year. Some would forfeit mid-fight, but not all fighters accepted a forfeit—and some fighters would sooner die in a sure loss than consider offering forfeiture. There were a few women, but no other ruling-caste woman. There never had been. A few ruling-caste men were here. She looked over them, noting the ones she recognized and a few she’d seen in fight clubs. Then, she stopped. Her gaze caught on the one person she’d never wanted to see in this crowd.
    â€œBelias,” she whispered.
    He stared only at her. The arrogance in his posture, a well-deserved arrogance at that, said that he needn’t bother studying the other fighters. He was better than them, stronger and faster. Few daimons would dispute that. Fewer still would live if they did dispute it.
    She eased through the crowd until she was at his side. “What are you doing?” she demanded in a low voice.
    â€œThinning the herd.” He looked around him. “You’re mine, Aya, and I’m a better fighter than most of them.” He didn’t bother lowering his voice. “Anyone that faces you needs to know that I’ll kill them if they walk out of the ring and you don’t.”
    Voices blurred together, a buzz of sounds as his statement was repeated.
    â€œStop this,” she hissed at him.
    â€œWithdraw.”
    Aya grabbed his forearm and tugged him toward the edge of the crowd. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t hurry either. To anyone watching, he’d still appear indifferent to the entire situation.
    Once they were farther away from the other fighters, not outside the crowd but on the very edge of it, she released him. She pursed her lips and glared at him. There wasn’t a single sentence she could think of that would resolve this to her satisfaction. She had to fight—and win—in Marchosias’ Competition. If she didn’t, her secret would be revealed, and she’d lose everything. If she won, she’d have a chance of survival.
    Belias reached out and trailed his thumb down her jawline. “Withdraw, and we’ll leave.”
    â€œI told you: I can’t.” Aya let herself lean into his caress. This, too, would end. Until then, she’d treasure these few remaining touches while he still thought he could convince her to change her mind.
    â€œYou don’t need to prove your strength to anyone, little bird,” he said in a low voice. “You’re strong and fierce. No one doubts that.”

    â€œIt’s not that simple.” She turned her attention to the center of the carnival where their ruler was stepping up to a raised platform. Marchosias was a fearsome daimon, a daunting leader whose scarred skin and corded muscles were almost enough to convince others to forget that he was as canny as he was deadly.
    â€œTomorrow marks the beginning of the competition,” Marchosias called to the assembled crowd.
    They cheered in a roar of voices and stomping feet.
    â€œNo one has to enter the carnival,” he added, as if there were any among them who didn’t know the rules of this competition, as if there could be anyone in The City who hadn’t grown up with the tales of legendary fights and bloody victories.
    â€œPlease, Aya,” Belias urged. He held out his hand to her.