“You survived?” Nick said, as I was thrown back in our cell.

  I wasn’t in the mood for chitchat, but the mercenary had pretty much saved my life, despite the protests of his squad. “I did. Fought a big, yellowy green bastard with claws an inch long.”

  “I thought, with your leg…”

  “I’ve fought with worse,” I mumbled, lying down in the corner as a wave of dizziness swept over me. “Broke a rule for taking a weapon in, though. So I reckon I’m in deep shit for that.”

  Maddock looked over at that point, suddenly interested.

  Nick only looked more worried. “Did they say what the punishment was?”

  “I doubt it’s going to be a back rub and a beer,” I said with a yawn. Then I rolled over, tired and with nothing else to say.

  He took the hint and spoke to Maddock instead. The two men mumbled quietly between themselves.

  I did what all good convicts do before possible imminent death and fell asleep.

  The boom of a deep voice woke me. I clambered up fast. Eyes stuck together with gunk, but still ready to start swinging.

  “The Arena Monarch has called you to judgment, Earther Three.”

  I blinked a few times, and risked a wipe at my eyes so that I could see the guard properly. “Yeah? For the knife?”

  The leader grunted, but didn’t answer beyond a command to follow. I looked briefly at my two cellmates. Maddock looked away, but Nick made the effort to meet my eyes.

  “Good luck, Earl. I’ll be rooting for you.”

  I offered him a thumbs up. “I don’t like many… Nah, I don’t like any people. But you’re all right, Nick. I got to have one last fight because of you.”

  I got a weak tired smile in return before I was unceremoniously dragged from the cell for taking too long.

  “I’ll walk, yer set o’ bastards. No need for this kind of treatment.”

  To my surprise, they put me down. One of them moved behind me and pointed forward. “Move.” And the other guards set off.

  I moved at a snail’s pace to start and I was getting slower by the second. My leg was numb from the knee down, and my arm felt like it was about to drop off. Whatever they’d hit me with after the fight kept me alive but it certainly wasn’t a fix-all. After a few minutes of walking the seemingly endless corridors, I wished I’d just let them carry me to save what strength I had, for whatever awaited.

  The game was over when we arrived at steep stone steps. With grim determination, I prepared for the first step. Putting weight on my damaged leg, I tried to step up. And fell.

  As my arm wasn’t working, I bashed my face off the hard concrete angle of the step and felt warm blood well from my forehead. “Fucking great,” I muttered, before being hauled into the air.

  The guard behind me hadn’t even bothered to ask. Just grabbed the back of my shirt, scooped me up, and carried me to the top like an old bit of carpet. Then, unfortunately, he manhandled me onto my feet. I say unfortunate, because with all the fresh blood in my eyes I would have taken a carry to our destination. Every time I tried to wipe them, I’d stumble, and the guard would have to catch me.

  “This gonna take much longer?” I asked a minute later. “I’ll be dead before we get there at this rate.”

  No one replied.

  “Oh real nice. You fuckers are going to have to carry me again soon. I can hardly see, and my leg…”

  “We are here,” said the guard in front of me, taking a few more strides before we came to a stop.

  I rubbed at my face to clear the blood away, then put my hand over my brow like I was peering into the sun. Only this time I was trying to divert a bloody waterfall.

  In front of us were two thick wooden doors with chunky black rivets and metalwork that looked built to last. They swung open to reveal a grand hall.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Inside the room it was real fancy. Comfy leather and velvet chairs created little relaxing spaces, though no one sat in them. A fire roared in a fireplace, even though it wasn’t cold, and a human-looking woman sat at the end of the long room like a Monarch. She wore a headdress full of gems, and even though light purple skin and dark gray hair wasn’t usually my thing, she was damned good looking.

  Behind her throne were three of the more important looking Be-Steady guards, and one other purple-skinned man wearing a cloak and holding a cool looking staff of twisted wood and metal.

  Clearly the same race as the woman, he had his gray hair swept back flat against his skull. I wasn’t an expert on hair products, but he was definitely using something with a strong hold to achieve the effect. He stared at me like someone had rolled a ball of steaming shite into the room.

  The woman snapped at the guard and gestured at me. As the guard babbled back, I stumbled from a wave of dizziness and only kept my feet with the aid of a fat fingered hand on my shoulder.

  The wannabe Monarch gestured to the cloaked man beside her, and with a nod of his head, he approached me, staff in hand. As he closed the distance, he raised the staff and thrust it at me. A bright ball of energy shot out and washed over my entire body.

  It hurt, and I winced, but at the same time, there was no doubt that it had healed some of my wounds. He looked utterly confused and glanced back to the Monarch with a troubled expression, speaking in their language.

  Whatever he said, she agreed, and he repeated the action.

  I felt a lot better after that. Still not fully healed, but on my way. “Few more of them and I reckon I’ll be right as rain, if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

  “No good with Earther language.” He held up a finger. “Wait.”

  After speaking quickly to the woman, he turned and tried to lay his staff on my head. I stepped back into the guard who’d held me upright. It was like walking into a wall. I jolted to a halt, and the cloaked dude’s staff bonked me on the head.

  I cried in pain. He frowned but didn’t stop. Not for a few long minutes. He actually looked tired when the pain finally stopped in my head.

  His face was one of disgust as he looked at me. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Where to start,” I replied with a tired laugh. “What the fuck did you just do to me?”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shook his head. “Start with why you took a knife into an unarmed arena contest?”

  “To win.”

  “Yet by its nature of being unarmed, you did not win. You were disqualified.”

  It was my turn to shake my head. “You can sod right off with that bullshit. Nobody told me it was unarmed. You should disqualify yourselves for not telling the contestants the fucking rules if you want us to follow them so badly. But then you also shouldn’t be putting people with no natural weapons against whatever the fuck that thing was I fought. He was tooled up to the hilt!

  “And another thing. You never heard of weight classes?”

  With a deep frown and a further look of confusion, he scratched his head. “The Ogrid had no weapons.”

  I shook my head in disappointment. “He had ten razor-sharp claws, and he was three times bigger than me, you mad bastard!”

  “You greatly exaggerate the difference, Earther. He was approximately thirty percent taller than you, at most.”

  “Bollocks! He had to weigh at least six hundred pounds. But before you apologize for that, d’you wanna explain how you said you can’t speak my language and now you’re chatting away like you lived on Earth your whole life?”

  He laughed. The whole room did, apart from the woman, and even she allowed a small smile to reach the corners of her mouth as she answered the question.

  “You are speaking our language, Earther. Able Lectun granted you the ability. Though he claims it was far harder than it should have been. Much like healing you. I would like answers for that. But more importantly, I would like to know who sent you?”

  It took a while to process the information overload, so her question didn’t filter in immediately. “Sent me? My government, I think. My brother was kidnapped and taken through your anomaly thingy on my planet. I think our top brass were sick of losing soldiers and having to pay their families compo, so they got some expendable riff-raff instead. And here I am.”

  Judging from her deepening frown, I suspected my answer didn’t float her boat. “I think you know very well what I mean, Earther. Why are you here, and what were you supposed to do with that dagger?”

  I raised my palms defensively. “Woah, woah, Woah. Now listen here, petal, you need to settle yourself down a minute and…”

  The air rushed past my face as I was unexpectedly flying back across the hall. I smashed into the firmly closed doors I’d entered through, then slid to the floor like a dead slug, with a number of new physical defects. Suffice to say I was no longer appreciative of the doors solid craftsmanship. Particularly the rivets.

  It was the Able fella who spoke next. “It would be wise if you refrained from instructing the Monarch of the Velkyn Arena on how to conduct herself, and more specifically, avoid using derogatory terms in your address.”

  I held up my hands. “Fucking sensitive much? I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to say that no one sent me. I already told your guards that I stole the knife off one of them hunters who carried me through. Slipped it of his leg when he was busy. Damn near cut my own leg off trying to hide the sharp piece of shit as well. Doesn’t sound very well planned does it?”

  He turned back to the Monarch. “I detected no lies. He is either delusional and believes this is what happened, or… this actually happened.”

  She seemed relieved. “That’s something at least. Find out how he was able to hold it. And why you are struggling to heal him.”

  “I will, Monarch. Trust that this is now one of my top priorities.”

  “Good. And he can fight again. I want to see more of what he’s capable of. Make sure he is fully healed and put him against one of the low ranking pool fighters. If he wins, we’ll ascend him.”

  The Able Lectun was visibly stunned by her response, then turned to me and muttered under his breath, “Lucky boy, Earther.” Then he beckoned me off to a side room.

  I took one last look back at the Monarch who’d blasted me across the room, then followed the old man.