The Traitor Prince (Ravenspire #3)

Javan whirled, looking for the other rencapal, and saw Hashim on his feet, bleeding profusely from his shoulder, the ground around him littered with the bodies of the rest of the vampire bats. The other steed was slowly backing away from the snap of Iram’s whip as the warden yelled, “Turn loose the were-jaguars! Fifty points a kill.”

Javan ran for his bow, scooped it off the ground, and sent an arrow flying into the chest of the first were-jaguar that cleared the arena gate. The other two were right behind it, unnaturally long limbs and sleek bodies gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Hashim abandoned the short swords and grabbed a spear instead. The rencapal screamed and charged the closest jaguar as Hashim threw the spear into the third shape-shifter.

That made one hundred points for Javan. At least one hundred points for Hashim, depending on how many bats he’d killed. Iram had only killed five bats, but even with Iram’s low opening score, Javan was still in third place.

Javan needed to take both of the top predators being sent into the arena. As the rencapal stomped the were-jaguar into oblivion, Iram drove his sword into the side of the beast. The creature twisted, lashing out. Its hind legs, with its sharp iron hooves, crushed Iram into the wall. The man slid to the ground and lay still.

Javan tore his eyes from Iram and faced the gate as Hashim moved toward the center of the arena, keeping a safe distance between himself and the injured rencapal.

The worst was yet to come. A chill slid over Javan’s skin as an earsplitting roar shattered the air, briefly silencing the crowd. The faint skittering of bony legs and claws followed the roar, and Javan swallowed hard as Sajda and the guards led a pair of muzzled, shackled monsters toward the arena.

They were sending in both at the same time.

He drew in a shaky breath as the warden clapped her hands for attention.

Fear out.

Courage in.

“As our grand finale, we have two vicious monsters! The first is the legendary triceleon from Llorenyae.” She waved her hand in a grand gesture, and as if on cue the three-headed lion roared, the chain netting around its mouths trembling with the force of the beast’s anger. “The second monster is the rare jorogumo—a spider devil from the country of Ichil! One hundred points each.”

The jorogumo was a female spider several handspans taller than Javan. Her bulbous body was supported by eight bony claw-tipped legs, but her upper body looked vaguely human, as though a woman’s frame had been embedded in the center of a spider’s body. Her face looked somewhat human too, though her mouth opened and closed in a perfect circle with an equally perfect circle of fangs inside.

Sajda and the guards whipped the muzzles and chains from the creatures and slammed the gate shut behind them. Briefly Sajda met his gaze, her eyes fierce. He felt his heartbeat steady, his thoughts slow.

This was it. His last chance to free her from the warden. To free Akram from the impostor. He glanced up at the royal box and found his father leaning forward, watching intently while the impostor sat beside him, fists clenched.

The lion padded toward the bodies of the slain were-jaguars, one face looking at Javan, one looking at Hashim, while the other gazed at the injured rencapal that was stomping its hooves as it sized up this new threat.

The spider skittered to the side, claws clicking, and huddled against the wall beneath the warden’s platform.

Javan nocked an arrow and sent it flying toward the lion. It struck the head that was gazing at him. The beast roared, shaking its heads. Hashim raced forward and grabbed the spear he’d sent into a were-jaguar as Javan sent another arrow into the lion’s second head.

Hashim yanked the spear free as the lion snarled and came for him. Javan sent another arrow, but it missed as the lion sprang for the threat in front of it.

The prince started moving as the lion crashed into Hashim, bringing them both to the floor. The beast roared in pain as the spear went through his chest and out its back. It slashed with its claws, its uninjured jaws yawning wide as it snapped at Hashim.

Javan skidded on the blood of a fallen were-jaguar and caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Pivoting, he barely had time to brace before the injured rencapal slammed into him, one iron hoof connecting with Javan’s hip and sending him sprawling.

He rolled out of the way as iron hooves drove into the floor where seconds ago he’d been lying. The beast reared again, blood pouring from its sides, and Javan sent a battle-ax into its chest.

Its hooves crashed into the floor, shaking Javan as he scrambled back. The ax hadn’t nicked the artery, and until he did that, the creature was just going to keep coming until it killed him. Rolling quickly to the left, Javan readied the other ax and gauged his move. The rencapal reared, screaming in fury, and when its hooves hit the floor again, Javan was already running.

Grabbing the mane, he swung himself onto the creature’s back, its shadowy skin as slippery as the wind. Tangling his fingers in its mane, he leaned down and slashed the artery in the creature’s neck. Then, leaping clear, he turned to find Hashim, bleeding and breathing heavily, crawling out from under the lion’s corpse.

That left the spider.

Javan whirled to face the wall where the spider had been, but she was gone. In her place was the thick, glistening edge of a web anchored to the wall before spreading up into the empty space overhead.

A rapid clicking sound reverberated through the arena, directly above Javan’s head. He looked up just as the spider dropped, wrapped her bony legs around him, and pulled him high into the air.





FORTY-THREE


THE CROWD SCREAMED as Javan hurtled into the air. The spider’s legs pulled him tight against the bulbous circle of her lower body. Fear was a razor slicing his thoughts to ribbons.

His arms were pinned. His legs were pinned. He couldn’t get to the battle-ax he held in his hand. Couldn’t struggle or he might fall to his death below.

Prayers formed in his mind, wisps of panicked words and desperate thoughts as the spider slowed and came to a stop in the web she’d spun above the arena. He was so close to seeing his father—to setting everything right. He couldn’t die now. Not like this.

Over the yelling from the aristocrats who either wanted him to plunge to his death or to get out of the spider’s grasp so they could collect on their bets, a girl’s fierce voice shouted, “Turn the ax to the left!”

He twisted his wrist, following Sajda’s instructions, and felt the blade in his hand connect with something. Immediately he started sawing, jerking the ax back and forth while he prayed for something to give.

Something had to give.

He hadn’t come this far to fail.

A sticky rope wrapped around his feet, and he realized that some of the spider’s legs were moving, rapidly coiling a rope of web around his ankles. He sawed faster with the ax blade, though he wasn’t sure what good it would do if his feet were trapped.

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