The Cage King (12 page)

“Magical travel is possible between the Realms, but accomplishing it, we’re talking multiple high-level mages and very exacting conditions and even for the most powerful, it’s a dangerous spell. With a Realm Jumper though, it still requires powerful people, but so many of the variables won’t matter, and it’ll be much easier to access the other Realms.”

“And? So some necromancers get to take a vacation. Why’s that matter?”

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the scenarios that were fighting to bury themselves in her brain. He never saw…he didn’t understand. “It’s not them leaving. Don’t you see, what’s terrifying is what they can bring
here
.”

‡

R
ound two began
in one hour, a two-part extravaganza where the real fighting started.

Esh stretched, limbered up. He wasn’t fighting either Rorth or the albino today, and none of the other fighters worried him. He wouldn’t underestimate anyone, but those were the only two who had his palms itching.

Still, he worked his body, more to get the mental game going than the physical ready. Everything was turmoil in his life right now, and not shaking it off could have him lose real quick.

He’d gone from the high of tasting Nalah for the first time only to plummet, learning about the ring and having their contact here get captured. If Nalah thought she was horrible for not mourning the guy, he better not tell her all he felt was pissed the idiot got caught.

Back to Nalah. They weren’t alright, despite yesterday’s making out and last night’s holding onto each other. Nalah pressed herself close to him even in sleep, like she trusted him to keep the boogey-men away. It was nice, it was flattering, but it wasn’t quite real.

He understood her, though. Nalah was a creature of black and white, and he’d introduced a lot of grey into her world. She never took change well.

Closure his ass.

He ran his hand over his face, through his hair. On top of all that, he had himself to deal with. There had always been a burn in his gut, a flame that rattled its chains trying to get free. He didn’t know what it was and never tried to find out. He never even mentioned it to Nalah. She was obsessed with finding his heritage, that’s what she called it, and he had no interest in that.

He wished he looked into it now, though. Whatever it was, it was getting stronger here. The proof was in his eyes, in the strength of his body, the quickness of his reflexes. He had been stronger last night than he had been yesterday morning, and today he was stronger than he had been last night. His body was his weapon, and even though it was improving at an astonishing rate, he didn’t like not knowing what was happening with it.

The heavy steps announced Beylor’s arrival before he came into view, the loudmouth guard from before with him. “Esh, how goes it?”

“All right.” He kept himself neutral, not welcoming, not threatening, and hoped Beylor would go the hell away.

“Good to hear. I’m expecting a great fight from you.”

“Won’t disappoint.”

Beylor puffed himself out, showing the gold around his neck. Esh supposed the smile was meant to be fatherly, but all he saw was full of shit. “Esh, a man like you, you can do so much better than the circuit. You’re young and with so much ahead of you. If you chose the right paths, of course, paths I’d like to help put you on.”

And there it was, five years of avoidance gone to waste. Here was the offer that Esh knew would be made the moment he’d set foot into the Tour.

It wasn’t the first offer he’d received, but it’d be the hardest to turn down.
If
he could turn it down. Offers from people like Beylor weren’t meant to be turned down. Otherwise, the people who made them tended to get mad.

The guard next to Beylor looked at Esh with ill-disguised hatred. And there, proof even if he did accept, he’d have someone waiting to end him from the inside. Yeah, this offer was cocked from all sides.

“I can’t think about that right now. Need to concentrate on the Tour.”

“Absolutely,” Beylor agreed. “We’ll talk after. For now, I know my guests want only the best, and they’ve been waiting for the Cage King such a long time.”

The excitement of
the fights fell over Nalah, a wave she hadn’t experienced in five years, her one fight the night she’d reconnected with Esh not counting. The rush of adrenaline that was transmitted from the fighters to the crowd, and how the crowd fed on it, in turn hyping up each other. She was almost nauseated, and she caught her hands clenching and unclenching in nervous excitement without her directing them.

As the crowd cheered and the announcers made small announcements until the fighters came forward, Nalah looked around the stands. No magic so far, either in the ring or out of it.

With nothing else to do, Nalah waited. Esh’s fight was next, the last before the mid-day break. Rorth won his first match as did the albino. She hadn’t watched them, and once she heard what the albino had done in his fight, she was grateful she’d missed it.

She was sitting in the front, the space reserved for whoever the fighters wanted. Behind her were the cheap seats. It was above, in the boxes, where Beylor and all the wealthy and powerful watched.

“And now…” came the announcer’s voice, restrained and theatrical excitement in those two words. The crowd quieted, and Esh moved towards the fighting floor, that innate
something
in him glowing brighter than ever.

The groundswell grew until it included even the highest of the boxes. Yes, Esh was a draw, no doubt about it. His legend rivaled the Tour, and it took little imagination to see Beylor’s preening face over this turn of events.

Esh was dressed as always – no shirt, jeans, boots, and he needed nothing else to incite the noticeable hum of appreciation from the women in the audience. And if that hum brought a smug grin to her face because she knew how
good
he was with his tongue, well, any woman would agree that was allowed.

Next into the ring came his opponent, a man she hadn’t run across yet. He looked to be human – a statement you could never be positive over – but this man was almost as big as Rorth, both in height and body mass. Like Esh he was shirtless, his chest a landscape of ridges and curved muscle. Take out the palpable excitement for blood, and this could be a photo shoot for some fitness magazine.

He passed by her, and magic tickled the edges of her mind. Not connected to the death magic, but he was innate of some type. It was vaguely familiar, one she was sure she knew but learned long ago amid her studies. Damn, damn, damn, and then there was no time, because the bell rang, and the men circled each other. No weapons, only the damage done with legs and fists and heads.

Fists met body, the accompanying spray of blood reaching the first seats, the onlookers crying out in horrified delight at the feel of the liquid droplets. Flesh absorbing blows, the rippling of skin showing the savage path of pain. The crunch as bone connected to bone, and underneath it all low rumblings of the crowd.

Then a hard echo of magic, clear as a sun flare. The other fighter activated some type of power, and Nalah stood, hoping the magic left a physical change on the man.

Esh struck the fighter hard in the side but frowned, clenching and unclenching his fist as he backed up, rechecking his opponent.

And then Esh on the defense, twisting to avoid a heavy blow to his skull, not moving fast enough and a punch to his chest brought him low, had him rolling away.

After several more turns of Esh doing nothing more than dodging, the crowd around them booed, not here to see the Cage King skulking and avoiding the fight. A kick to his ribs had Esh skittering across the ground.

Every muscle went jittery, and her mouth went dry as parchment. This was bad. She’d seen Esh get hit before, but this was nothing short of being dominated, and Esh’s opponent was out for blood. If she couldn’t help him soon, there was a chance Esh might be brought down.

She’d spent years perfecting her magical shields, but now she tore them down, lay herself bare to any magical power around her. She opened herself in complete abandon to any energy around her, her concentration complete and only on Esh’s opponent. Past the layers, down to the…skin?

Concentrate, study, no shields. Skin, skin, something in the skin, concentrate, what is it, what is…he?

No,
it
. There weren’t different sexes among the Skin Dwellers.

Skin Dweller. Shit.

Not necromantic magic, but dark enough. She dug through memories of the training she’d received on the various races, so numerous most of them had disappeared days after she’d learned of them.

Their skin could harden until it was more akin to armor. Also, it was poisonous, enough a normal human could only endure two or three contacts before beginning to fall ill. Esh wasn’t normal, but how long before it was too much for his system?

Their weakness, they did have one, but…what was it…base of the spine.
Yes
. A couple hits there started the process of weakening the skin, turning it back to normal, which led to other punches hurting them. Once the cycle started, as long as the poison didn’t kill you, the Skin Dweller could be defeated.

Now, how to tell Esh? There were no rounds. They fought until one collapsed, and the one left standing was the winner. She couldn’t go up and say she had to speak to him. They’d kick her out if she tried to interfere.

Somehow Esh had to come to her…

Nalah glanced around and zeroed in on the man on her right. He was already drunk and had propositioned her as soon as she sat down, though he did back off after she told him she was with one of the fighters. Still, she’d gotten a familiar vibe from him, one that had her leaning as far away as possible.

Please let him be as much of a jackass as I think he is.
Nalah stood up at the next hit to Esh, a not-entirely-feigned gasp of shock pouring from her mouth, and put her ass in front of his face.

The vibe was right. He didn’t go for her ass, his hand went straight for between her legs, and a completely not-feigned shout of outrage left her mouth as she turned. “What the
fuck
do you think you’re doing
touching
me,
asshole
?”

It took only moments before she was lifted out of the way, Esh beside her and trying to go after the guy.

Never let it be said she didn’t know her man.

As nice as watching the prick get beaten might have been, there were more important matters. Nalah wrapped her arms around Esh’s neck, trying to make it look like she was burying herself in his grasp for comfort as she spoke in his ear, his blood seeping against her mouth and flavoring her words. “Your opponent is a Skin Dweller. Skin is poisonous and like armor. Kick him instead of hitting him, keep skin contact minimal. Base of his spine, hit it enough and the armor goes away. You can beat on him then.”

Hands gripped at Esh and dragged him back, shouts of outrage that he left the ring. Esh was yelling at the ref, up towards Beylor, gesturing at her, and the guy who touched her was dragged out. Hope that she was correct on how to beat the Skin Dweller, that Esh had heard her message and would act on it, curled in her stomach and lay heavy there.

After a few tense moments Beylor nodded, and the fight was resumed. The fighters once again circled each other, and this time, when the Skin Dweller lunged forward, Esh twisted so he had a clear shot at the back of the man and kicked hard into the base of the spine. The Skin Dweller crumpled, and when he righted himself and stood, surprised fear was plain for all to see.

Esh had heard and she was right, and Nalah breathed for the first time since that flare of magic, because it was going to be fine.

Esh would never lose a fight.

After the initial blow, the Skin Dweller faded in quick order. Esh owned him, and at the end Esh used his hands several times to deliver the final, body-dropping blows, but didn’t seem susceptible to the poison.

The Skin Dweller fell and didn’t rise, and Esh was proclaimed winner. Without thought or intent, Nalah ran to the ring and threw her arms around him, light-headed and happy, pressing kisses over his face.

He stopped the small kisses and captured her lips in a deep, drugging kiss, and the catcalls and rude remarks faded from her ears, and all Nalah knew was Esh, alive and whole and victorious.

And then he pulled his head away and turned, growling at something. Nalah followed his gaze, and there was Lian, his hand on Esh’s arm and a cruel smile on his lips. “Beylor wants to see you both.”

‡