The Hunter on Arena Read Free Page A

Above the lights, there appeared to be some sort of metal grid, almost ladderlike
     in design, perhaps a catwalk that would allow access to the flooded corridor from which he had first fallen.
    His mind racing, Braldt was determined to pull himself from the water and reach the catwalk, although such a thing was surely
     not intended by whomever or whatever had constructed these unwelcome challenges. Then, perhaps he would have a few surprises
     of his own.
    By some miracle he had not been parted from his cloak which was still draped over his shoulder, plastered against his body
     by the press of water. With some degreeof difficulty, he was able to pull it free and hold it above the flood. This required that he retain his grip on the crevice
     with but a single hand. More than once he was nearly pulled away by the force of the water, but he was determined and fueled
     by anger, and in the end he was able to maintain his tenuous grip while balancing the sodden bundle of material in his hand.
     Steadying himself, he flung the cloak upward while holding onto the end. The cloak shot upward, but fell short of the ceiling
     and dropped back into the water, where once again the current did its best to pull it from his grasp.
    Over and over he tried, but to no avail, and despite his resolve, found that he was losing strength. The water, while not
     actually cold, was chill, and by drawing off his body heat it was leaving him weak and shaking, barely able to cling to his
     position much less fling the heavy cloth upward. But he would not give up, for he suspected that to do so would spell his
     doom.
    Braldt wondered if those who had fashioned this torture were watching, unseen. His teeth bared in a grimace of hatred at the
     thought and the flash of anger gave him the strength to fling the robe farther than before, and he saw that it would reach
     the ceiling. With luck it would wrap around!… Zooks, what was this! As the robe rose upward it crossed the path of one of
     the bright, shining lights and the light lanced through it, shearing the robe as cleanly as a knife stroke! The robe dropped
     into the water and was carried away instantly before Braldt’s stunned eyes. The uppermost bit of cloth fell back through the
     grid of lights and was sliced apartby the crisscross beams, the remaining bits fluttering down to the water like damaged butterflies to be instantly swallowed
     by the maelstrom.
    The lights… slicing the robe. Braldt swallowed hard. It could just as easily have been flesh instead of fabric. He looked
     up at the web of lights, noticing for the first time how there was no space large enough for his body to pass through the
     grid of bright beams, realizing, if not understanding, that the lights were weapons more dangerous than any blade he had ever
     known.
    How could he win against such an adversary? “Come out!” he screamed. “Show yourself! How can I fight what I cannot see? Come
     out and fight me fairly like a man and I will kill you!”
    The water swelled around him, flowing with an even greater force than before, and as his fingers lost their tenuous grip on
     the tiny edge and he was swept away by the torrent, it seemed to him that he heard a chuckle of laughter.

3

    Water poured down Braldt’s throat and seeped into his nostrils. He choked and coughed, gasping for air, and the powerful current seized its advantage and flung him headlong
     into the wall. Stunned, he slid into the depths and found almost by accident that here the current ran slower, with none of
     the surface violence. With luck, he found another crevice which allowed him to rise and fill his lungs with air, then descend
     to the more peaceful depths and make his way to the next handhold. In this odd manner, Braldt was able to progress, swimming
     along with the flow of the water, rising whenever possible to search for a way out. No such option presented itself nor did
     the bright grid of lights diminish.
    After a time, it seemed that