7 Deadly Instincts (The Sinfire Chronicles Book 1)

Lilian turned to him. She looked sick. For a second, he thought the butterbang might’ve been bad. Or maybe the pocket sausage.

But no, she was afraid. “He’s going to be really mad,” she whispered.

Gray grabbed her arm and walked with her out to the center of the field. “He is. He’s going to come after you, hard, but you have to put him down quickly. If the fight lasts until midnight, neither of you will be able to join. Maybe don’t use your one attack right away—he’s going to be expecting that after what Ames did to him. But do it soon.”

She turned to him. “You’re being nice to me. Why?” Her eyes were filled with tears.

He smiled. “I always liked you, Lil. We need to move beyond our past. I think this is helping.”

“For now.” Her voice was quiet—she was feeling that despair again, and it hurt his heart. “But you don’t need me. You’re all so powerful.”

“And you will be too.”

She laughed, as the tears fell. “I never thought I’d need to be powerful since I was pretty. And a pretty face has a power all its own. All the men would look at me with such desire in their eyes, and I used that against them. It wasn’t like it is down here. Now, my pretty face is gone—because of the mana mark. Who would want me?”

The question hung there for a long time.

He didn’t know what to say, and while he wanted to point out that it wasn’t the time to be considering such things, he knew that wouldn’t go over well.

“No,” the princess said with determination. “I have to be powerful. It’s the only way. I have to win, join a squad, and cut a path for myself in this fucking world. My only road is to be so powerful no one cares what face my looks like.

“This is your chance,” he said. The mood swings were violent, but then, they’d grown up by the sea and knew how storms could blow in and turn a nice day deadly.

Viktor was finishing healing Grist, who stood there, scowling at them with the one milky eye. The other one was half-closed. Golden mana went from his core to that eye, and he grinned. One of his tusks was broken, and with his wild black hair, Gray couldn’t help but think that the orc might really hurt Lilian. Even for an orc, he didn’t seem sane.

The bear man headed away.

They only had ten minutes left.

Gray grabbed Lilian’s hand and squeezed. “You’ll win. You’re a wind dancer. He’s an orc who’s already lost two fights. What’s a third.”

“I’ll kill her,” Grist growled. “I’d rather kill her than lose again. Kill her, then get killed, and join my ancestors in the eternal battlefield. Your dragon bitch sponsor ruined our city—destroyed the Wrath Tower and brought us low. Well, this world doesn’t matter. Only the eternal battlefield matters.”

Crewel floated above them. “Once the field is clear, we can start. Or would you rather not have Lilian Everheart join your squad?”

Gray knew it was pointless to tell the magistrate anything, but he had to try. “He just said he was going to kill her. And we were late because the Wrath City Raiders and the Fire Flyers tried to push into Weeping Well. But you don’t care.”

The wrinkled old man grinned. “All is the Testing. All is the Test. The only rule at First Field is that murderers are murdered in return. As long as we can catch them. If Grist kills her, we’ll kill him.”

“Good!” the orc roared. “Good! Leave, fucking human. Leave so I can join my ancestors!”

Gray gave Lilian one last look.

She nodded. Suddenly, she wasn’t afraid. Did she want to die?

Her core was getting mana. She wasn’t in that dark place, no, but it was her rage, her wrath she was feeling.

She nodded at him again.

He nodded back and then sprinted to the sidelines.

“Last fight!” Crewel shouted! “With five minutes left. If there is no victor by midnight, the fight ends and the recruits don’t join! All is the Testing and all is the Test. We bloody our recruits to find the best! Fighters at your position. By instincts strong and mana bright…”

Lilian and Grist repeated the salute.

“Fight!” Crewel shouted.

The fire numbers showed four minutes and thirty seconds left.

Grist roared, turned his blade a lethal red, and attacked. It was clear that he wasn’t interested in just drawing blood. He was going to hack Lilian to pieces.

Some of the crowd was shocked, some booed, but too many only applauded with approval.

Gray went to run out there, but Settie grabbed him. “Remember,” she said. “We brought Ames back.”

“Barely,” he whispered.

Ames stood there, tears trailing down her cheeks.

Lilian went into a completely defensive position, parrying his savage blows, dancing around him, becoming like the wind. It was oddly beautiful to watch. Grist was all savagery and brutality, and Lilian was beaty personified.

And then, she struck—every bit of mana filling her meridians.

It was so sudden—like lightning striking when there were barely any clouds in the sky. She went to slice into Grist’s flesh, but he laughed.

And punched her in the head.

She went down, but there was no blood.

The orc kicked her sword away.

“I sees it coming with me special eye! I sees it! I knew you’d do it! Knew it! I won’t lose again, no matter how much money they’re paying me. I won’t lose again!”

Half the audience was chanting, “Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Crewel looked on, a mild look in his eyes. Mana filled his hands. If Grist did kill Lilian, he wouldn’t take five steps before the magistrate ended his life.

“I’m going after her.” Gray was five seconds from throwing the captain’s hand off him.

“Wait,” she said. “You don’t know Lilian as well as you think.”

The orc kicked her, laughing. “I can do whatever I want with her! Whatever I want for the next three minutes! Maybe I won’t kill her. Maybe I’ll just keep kicking her!”

And he booted her in the ribs.

Lilian’s core was empty, she couldn’t breathe, and she clawed at the grass.

And at any time, that red sword could go through her and end her life.

The magistrate gave Settie a long look—that blankness in his eyes told Gray everything. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about either lives, it was that he knew that losing Lilian would hurt the captain, and he wanted that. Maybe it was the only thing that Crewel had ever wanted in his miserable fucking life. It certainly seemed like it.

Gray broke away from Settie. He wasn’t going to stand there and watch Lilian die.

All he needed was to get within ten feet of the princess.

Grass exploded in his face. He blinked. It had come from Crewel. “Back!”

The stands were filled with shouts, hisses, boos, but also cheers.

Grist lifted his sword.

And Gray was close enough to reach out a hand—to be within ten feet. It was far away, but Gray could easily find Lilian’s core. And he fed it all the mana he could.

She didn’t pause—she took all the mana he gave her and filled her meridians. Then, she shot forward, grabbed her sword, and filled it to the brim mana. It went from dull iron to gold to red in seconds.

She was still on the ground. Grist was charging her, sword held back.

She turned just in time for the orc to run himself onto her sword, right through his guts, until the blood sprouted out the back of him.

He took a swipe at her with his sword—it was s still a lethal red.

But being the wind dancer she was, Lilian danced away.

She was breathing hard, barely on her feet. Every breath had to be giving her agony.

She glanced up. There was only thirty seconds left on the fiery timer. “First blood! I drew first blood! I win!”

“You killed me!” Grist shouted. “You fucking killed me, bitch! How do you get more mana into her core? How?”

“I’m blessed by the gods of sea and storm,” she spat.

With a ragged roar, the dying orc attacked her. Again, Crewel did nothing.

But Gray fed her more mana, and she dodged his sword, leapt into the air, and kicked him squarely in the face. She fueled it with mana, again, putting every bit of magic into her muscles.

There was a snap as she broke off his other tusk.

He staggered back and fell onto his back, knocking the sword loose. But by that time, he was unconscious from either Lilians’ devastating or the loss of blood.

The stadium was quiet again.

And they started to count down.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

It was stupid for them to be counting but Gray stood there, back away from the fight. He hadn’t interfered, not that anyone could see, except for Grist and that magic eye of his.

“Lilian Everheart win! This Redemption Midnight is over!”

Froggy’s Thunder was screaming all kinds of things, but Gray ignored them as he walked over to Lilian. Again he gave her mana to keep her on her feet.

She slumped into him. “I killed him,” she whispered.

“You did,” he said.

There was screaming, crying, an explosion of sound, and Gray knew that once again, Squad 23 had provided the First Field audience premium entertainment. He hated that, but holding Lilian felt good.

For a minute, he was back at the castle in Cradleport, and they were in her bed, eating fruit, and laughing. They would feed each other grapes and dream about the lives they might one day live.

It was strange that so many of those dreams had come true.

Rynn, Midj, and Tomi had left the stands and were racing toward them. Ames took a minute to hug Rynn, but then both elves raced toward him. It seemed most of the coliseum would be joining them as well. The field was suddenly filled with people.

Crewel had floated down to talk to Settie. Neither one of them seemed very happy with what had happened.

He’d have to forgive the captain for risking Lilian’s life, but he didn’t want to. If he hadn’t run out onto the field, there was a good chance that Quinly Quillwrath would be trying to do an other resurrection on Squad 23.

In his heart of hearts, Gray knew that Lilian wouldn’t come back. Unlike Ames, the princess didn’t have much to live for. The idea made him sad.

The two had a minute. “You saved me.”

He brushed sweaty blond hair back from her face. “No. You saved yourself. You are a warrior.”

“I’m a murderer,” she whispered.

“No. You killed in self-defense. I’ve known murderers. You aren’t one.”

She looked him in the eye. “I could be.” The chill in her blue eyes made him cold in some strange way.

He kissed her forehead. “Not today.”

She sighed and laughed a little. “Not today.”

Then the rest of their squad joined them.

They would be competing in the Reckoning with a full seven squad members for the first time.

Right then, Gray knew they were going to win.

If they weren’t killed first.

Lilian wasn’t a killer, but there were killers at First Field. More than one.