Night's Gift by Carol E. Leever && Camilla Ochlan

Author:Carol E. Leever && Camilla Ochlan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10: Ringball

Omen led the way down the long stairs toward the pit below. Templar followed, grumbling. Humans and elves around them clapped their encouragement, but the applause was halting and stilted, which made Omen's chest tighten. Not thrilled, are they? He waved at his less-than-adoring audience.

Guess they don't see many human players. While he and Templar weren't entirely human, Omen had always thought of himself that way. He pondered the implication. After all, humanity means more than just being human. Doesn't it? He made himself a promise to discuss the topic with his father. If I get out of here in one piece.

Past the more somber spectators in the blue and green sectors, the crowd cheered and shrieked with excitement, thrilled that there would be a championship match. They don't care about the match . . . They just want to see blood. Omen breathed deep, trying to calm his racing heart.

Behind him, Templar muttered just loud enough for him to hear: "Idiot . . . insane . . . foolhardy . . . Ejioieejkez . . ."

Omen had no idea what the last word meant, but he had to assume it wasn't anything flattering. But he IS following me, Omen thought, relieved. Templar might not like my idea, but he's got my back.

As they reached the edge of the pit and were about to step inside, the ringmaster pointed a sharp finger at Templar. "No weapons!" the goat-footed man proclaimed loudly.

"Reegorn!" Templar called out to someone in the stands, surprising Omen.

A tall, grim-faced elvin man with sharp features and a shrewd gleam in his eyes approached. Templar unbuckled his sword belt and wrapped it around the two blades before handing it over. Reegorn accepted the bone swords with a furtive glance from side to side. "Are you certain of the wisdom of this, highness?" Though the elegant tone of the elf's voice was impassive, Omen thought he detected concern.

It occurred to Omen that Templar would know a fair number of people in the stands, and what was more, Templar would be known by many. Word of this will get back to his father and sister, Omen thought. Can't hide anything when you're that well-known.

Affecting a serenity Omen knew the prince didn't feel, Templar smirked confidently at Reegorn. "Of course, I am certain this isn't wise. It's sheer madness. But when have I ever been known for my magnificent wisdom?" He directed a nod toward his two weapons. "I want those swords back when I finish this match."

Word of this will get back to my mother and father too, sooner or later, Omen realized with a slightly guilty conscience. He didn't suppose he would be able to keep this excursion secret from his parents for long. They likely already knew he was missing. That's not going to be fun. He swallowed hard, suddenly far more worried about his parents' reaction than about the match facing him. They're going to be mad.

The elf inclined his head to Templar. "I shall

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