Behind me, Twig’s small voice sounds. “Miss, you shouldn’t have come in the circle.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Twig. I can handle this.”
Osrik barks out a cruel laugh. “No, you really can’t. And the kid is right. You shouldn’t have crossed into the fight circle.”
“Nope,” Mustard chimes in, rocking back on his heels with amusement as he crosses his arms over his strong, tanned chest. “Tell her what the rules are, Os.”
Osrik looks steadily back at me. “If someone crosses into the fight circle, they have to fight.”
“And take off their shirts. Don’t forget that important bit,” Mustard grins. “Wouldn’t do to get blood on our clothes,” he adds with a wink.
My stomach churns.
“Shut up, Judd,” Osrik snaps.
“Miss, it’s really okay,” Twig tries to intervene again. My heart hurts at how he’s trying to protect me.
I stand my ground, even as the crowd of onlookers becomes antsier, louder. Even though they aren’t crossing into the circle, it seems like they’ve packed more tightly together, like they’re closing in on me. The tension is thick and clinging, oily air that makes it hard to breathe, coating my skin with grime.
Osrik looks past me. “Get back into formation, kid.”
Twig moves obediently out from behind me, but I move with him, shaking my head. “No.”
I don’t care how big Osrik is, how strong, or how mean. There are some things that give you the courage to face a giant.
Osrik tips his head back and lets out a sigh, like he’s trying to find some patience that he can pluck out of the smoky air. When that doesn’t seem to work, he takes a step toward me. If he does it on purpose to intimidate me, then it works. He could snap me and Twig in half without even trying.
But still, I don’t back down. Because at one point, that was me, forced to fight on the streets, kids pitted against each other while my owner Zakir traded bets with the other men. Nobody ever intervened on my behalf, no matter how hard I wished someone would.
I lock my knees into place. “Do what you want to me, but I’m not going to stand by and let Twig get beaten.”
Beside me, Judd whistles low under his breath.
Osrik rolls his brown eyes, his beard looking even wilder than usual. “This may come as a surprise, since you’re used to being coddled in your castle,” he begins. “But guess what? There is no coddling in the real world, and there sure as hell isn’t any going on in Fourth’s army either. Everyone has to earn their place here. Including Twig.”
My hands fist at my sides. “He’s a child.”
“Yep, and he’s gotta learn how to defend himself. So that he can be a good soldier one day, so that he can have a future. Earn coin. Have honor. He chose to be here.” Osrik waves a hand around the circle. “This isn’t cheap entertainment, and I’m not having him beaten. This is fucking training.”
My lips part in surprise, all of my righteous indignation deflating. I look at Twig, who’s glancing back at me sheepishly, with visible embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “You...you want to do this?”
Twig nods slowly, like he’s worried about hurting my feelings. “Yes, Miss. Sir Os and Sir Judd always let me train a little during fight circles.”
Great Divine, where’s a hole in the ground when you need it?
“Oh. Well…” I clear my throat, try to muster up some dignity. “Carry on then. I’ll just...be on my way.”
Osrik sidesteps in front of me, eyes dancing, scruffy face pulled into a shit-eating grin. “Not so fast. You heard the rule. If you step into the fight circle, you have to fight.”
I glare at him. “I will knee you in your balls if you don’t move.”
Judd barks out a laugh. “Now that would be entertainment.”
Osrik just continues to smirk at me. “Come on, then. I’d love to see you try.”
The joined voices of the crowd go berserk, a roar from the jaws of a beast.
Osrik looks like he thoroughly enjoys cornering me like this in front of everyone. “You’re not in Sixth Kingdom anymore, little pet. If you want to toss around accusations and orders, then you better back up your shit. And rules are rules. You stepped into the circle.”