Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Jasher circled behind the beast, his shadow stretching long over the sand. The monstra allowed the action, head swinging to follow him. When he raised his remaining axe, I thought, hoped, he would finally strike.
He slammed the blade into the chain that fettered his opponent to the arena.
The clang reverberated like a death knell.
Gasps of shock quickly turned into cries of protest. Fear thickened the air.
Gerald shot to his feet. I wasn’t far behind.
Jasher didn’t care. Biceps flexing, he struck again. The chain groaned but didn’t give.
“Archers!” Gerald bellowed. The bowmen lining the perimeter rose from the shadows, lifting their weapons, arrows nocked and drawn.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, then shouted, “Jasher, stop!”
He froze, axe raised mid-air.
“As you can see,” I said to Gerald, voice breaking, “he obeys me. Tell your men to stand down, and I’ll make him kill it.” Unless there was another way. Surely I could think of something.
Think, think.
But no ideas sprouted.
Gerald’s gaze flicked between Jasher and me, calculating, distrustful. After a long beat, he nodded stiffly. “Hold for my command.”
The archers eased their grips but didn’t release Jasher from their sightlines.
I fought a rise of panic. Think!
The monstra nudged Jasher with its snout, confused, restless, and clearly expecting to work together to escape. My executioner didn’t move, still bound by my words.
Tears welled, blurring my vision. I’d come here to end the reign of the monstra. This shouldn’t matter.
But it did.
There wasn’t another way. It was the beast or Jasher.
He was going to hate me more for it.
If I could just whisk down there. Explain what I was about to do. Apologize. Fall into his arms and sob.
Guilt and shame seared my throat as I quietly called, “Kill it.”
Jasher’s jaw locked. The veins in his neck bulged. His eyes glittered. His muscles trembled as he fought the command.
Fought me.
Gerald stiffened, as if gearing to give another order.
Anguish tore through me. How could I do this to him?
“Kill it,” I repeated, louder. Harder.
Still he fought.
The monstra roared so ferociously, I would swear the sound toppled mountains all the way back in Kansas. Then it turned its burning gaze on me.
Pawed the sand once. Twice.
It knew who to blame, and it planned to help its brother.
A blur of molten rage, it launched forward.
Gerald shoved his son behind him. Others scrambled to flee from the arena. Arrows flew at it, bouncing off its scales.
Hot tears continued to rain down my cheeks. The creature’s chain snapped taut, flinging it into the sand. Upon impact, the links weakened, the gaps between them spreading wider, soon to break altogether. Another couple of yanks, and the monstra would gain its freedom.
I would die, and everyone else would fall with me. And still, I didn’t move. I just stood there, crying, knowing what I had to do.
“Oracle,” Gerald shouted, as chaos rippled through the crowd.
Words burst from me. “Kill it, Jasher. Kill it now,” I whispered, hating myself.
Finally, he moved. In one flawless motion, he flung his axe. The blade flipped over itself as it soared…then slammed into the creature’s skull with unnatural strength, cutting through the steel-hard scales.
The monstra shrieked and thrashed, tail whipping with such power it caught Jasher across the chest and sent him flying. He hit the sand, a lash of crimson wetting his shirt. I gasped, a hand flying to my mouth.
No! No, no, no. I made to run down to him, but Gerald caught my wrist, stopping me.
The axe remained buried deep in the monstra, but the creature didn’t die. Not yet. It stumbled toward Jasher, betrayal burning in its eyes, drool sizzling where it fell.
Jasher rolled up ready, blood leaking from his mouth.
“Jasher!” I screamed, half warning, half prayer. “Survive, whatever you have to do.”
The monstra lunged in his direction. Jasher ducked the strike and slammed his fist into the creature’s jaw.
That moment, the real battle began. Two beasts fought with brutal determination. They bit and clawed and grappled with expert precision, supernatural speed, and a savagery no mere mortal could have withstood.
I hugged myself. Jasher would forever hate me for this. I might forever hate myself. But at least he would live.
My Tinman landed a nasty blow. The monstra teetered, attempting to gain its bearings. Climbing up its back, Jasher ripped the axe from its skull with a wet, tearing sound. Blood sprayed in a steaming arc. Without pause, he drove the blade home again. And again. Until the metal came out the other side.
The monstra staggered, choking on its own fiery blood. Its wings flared once, then its whole body collapsed, the light dimming in its eyes as smoke leaked from its nostrils.
Two beats of silence.
Cheers erupted, deafening and endless. Those jubilant cries soon coalesced into a song of deliverance. “Tonight we feast!”
I squeezed my eyes tight for one second, two. Then I faced the consequences of my actions.