Coldbloods by Bella Forrest

Author:Bella Forrest [Forrest, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nightlight
Published: 2017-12-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

With the sun setting in the distance and the ghostly sphere of a moon rising behind the mountains, the Snapper soared across the towns and villages that glowed below. Eventually, all signs of civilization faded away, leaving a vast expanse of barren wasteland, the glint of ice and frost showing on the surface, making it shine like a mirror.

Up ahead, a few dim lights appeared. A makeshift town rested in the shadow of a hillside, a glittering lake beside it, the water dark. Navan set the Snapper down, pulling me to him as we exited the vessel, heading in the direction of the ramshackle town. There was a high wall around it, with metal spikes pointing upward, but the guard on the door—a gruff, scarred brute—simply nodded to Navan as we passed.

“Nice to see you back, man,” he grunted.

Navan nodded. “We won’t be long.”

Inside, there were leaning stalls selling vials, as well as structures with people inside calling out names and numbers at the tops of their voices. Coldbloods crowded around these particular stalls, brandishing what looked like money in their direction. I’d seen enough derbies to know they were gambling.

Navan didn’t say a word until we reached the edge of a large pit. Coldbloods surrounded the perimeter, their eyes focused on what was going on below. I glanced over the muddy lip, and the sight shocked me.

In the gaping hole were several small arenas. Inside, bare-chested coldbloods lunged at one another, some bare-knuckled, some wielding weapons, some fighting off huge beasts with dripping jaws. The scent of blood and fear rose up, stinging my nostrils. Whenever one of the warring coldbloods landed an exceptionally nasty blow, a roar of excitement went up from the surrounding crowds. I stared at one arena in particular as a toned female coldblood in light leather armor swiped a scythe at her opponent, knocking his head clean off his shoulders. My hands flew to my face.

I turned to Navan, horrified. “What is this place?”

“These are the fighting pits,” he replied solemnly, his eyes on the battles.

“Wh-Why have you brought me here?” I gasped, as a different coldblood lost his arm to the slash of an enormous broadsword.

“I was a champion here, before I joined the Explorer’s Guild,” he said, distracted. “I needed to get the pain out… and this was the only place I could do that.”

“You fought here?” I whispered, watching two coldbloods circle each other, their knuckles drawn up to their tattooed faces.

He nodded slowly. “When Naya died, the guilt was unbearable. I felt like I should have done more to stop it… to stop my father. So I fought to ease the pain.”

I pictured him in the pits, brandishing one of those deadly weapons, taking the life of a fellow coldblood. I saw his anguished face, the guilt weighing him down as he lashed out to rid himself of the ghosts that haunted him. Had it not been for Jean and Roger, I wondered if I’d have ended up on a similar path of destruction.

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