Had he regretted his choice ever since? No wonder he’d balked so hard about Ophelia’s numerous demises. “I’m sorry you were put in such a terrible position.” Her chest squeezed. “I’m sorry for the agony you’ve endured. And I’m sorry I treated your concerns so cavalierly.”
In response, he tightened his hold. A possessive embrace she cherished.
“But, Halo,” she said, linking her fingers through his. “You didn’t murder your friend. The headmaster wielded the blade—you. Just as Erebus has been my killer, not you.”
A pause. Then, “I do not wish to speak of this anymore.” He used his flat tone. The one she hated. “I will sleep now, and you will stay put.”
In a nanosecond, Halo’s breathing evened out. She could only marvel. He had powered down so completely, so quickly. He really is a robot. The Machine.
The thought resurrected her sense of doom. What if he ever shut her out that easily and quickly? The worst rejection of my life.
She tossed and turned in Halo’s arms, wondering, wondering... Had the Deathless predicted the coming matches accurately? The lack of stardust? Ophelia’s eventual demise? Halo’s misery?
One minute bled into another. Chewing on her bottom lip, she shifted and gazed at the face she adored, so boyish in slumber. Once again, her chest squeezed. She’d decided he was hers for now, and that meant continuing to fight for him—for them.
If they had any chance at forging something long-term, they had to defeat Erebus. Halo had made it clear he believed the best chance would come from Ophelia’s hibernation. And if he was right?
Why not sacrifice for Halo when it mattered most? Maybe this was the way she helped him defeat Erebus.
From the beginning, she had insisted he be a team player—while she was anything but. He was a seasoned warlord, born from war itself. He kind of knew what he was doing.
But her instinct... Take the strength. Win.
Every fiber of her being knew she could do this. Could she trust herself? Had Erebus screwed with her intuitions or not?
Argh! She didn’t know anything anymore, least of all what to do. For the time being, she would continue on her current course. She would not resist the next transformation.
Or the next.
Then, she would reevaluate.
26
8:03 p.m.
Day 32
Halo surveyed Ophelia as she stalked the other side of the coliseum—as a man-eating bird. Eight feet tall with the face of a fowl and the thin, lanky body of a human. Sharp metallic feathers protruded from her spine and her limbs. Wild black eyes gleamed as brightly as a beak made of bronze.
Less than half an hour ago, Erebus had summoned and transformed her, and she’d been gunning for Halo ever since. Another battle to the death. So far, she’d taken him down thrice.
Erebus watched it all from the royal dais, laughing.
Ophelia pawed at the dirt, gearing to charge Halo again. Then she was off, running. Slowing. Stopping. She shook her head.
Had she gained control of her actions? The moment he’d been waiting for.
She had wanted strength? Very well. She could build it. But from now on, the labors would end his way.
Halo had learned his lesson well. No match that resulted in the harpymph’s death equaled a victory for him.
Determined, he withdrew a firstone blade Taliyah had made at his request, and pressed the tip against the top of his sternum.
A high-pitched shriek left Ophelia. Then she was running again.
He drove the blade home, the pain searing. If Halo had to die to win during these tests, so be it.
The world dimmed as icy cold spread over his body. Whatever happened after this—
He knew nothing more.
8:14 p.m.
Day 39
Halo faced off with the Cretan bull in the center of the coliseum. This version of Ophelia was at least nine-foot-tall with a muscle mass double the size of his own. Two ebony horns stretched from her skull. A gold hoop hung from each of her nostrils, the pieces clinking as she swiped a hoof over the dirt.
Mere feet apart, they circled each other. Erebus watched from the dais and laughed, as always. But he didn’t laugh as exuberantly as usual.
Ophelia was indeed getting stronger, gaining control of her actions faster. That didn’t make Halo’s job any less difficult, however. Fending her off until she willingly surrendered, giving them both a chance to learn her limits, vulnerabilities, and weaknesses. Not to defeat her but to ensure her safety.
And condemn the Astra?
His chest tightened. He was a planner. A solver. Yet he couldn’t figure out a way to save everyone. Was his task like Roc’s or not, a sacrifice needed? Must Halo win Ophelia’s love and accept her sacrifice during the final battle or make a sacrifice of his own? And if she died for him and his task wasn’t like Roc’s? If Halo died for her?
Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.