I throw myself forward, scraping and squeezing myself beneath the bench. A knot catches on my side, scratching along my ribs, but I hardly feel it. I wiggle forward, desperate, clawing—grab my knife—and then I’m through.

Maru tilts her head as if she’s going to look back. She must have heard something, but it’s too late, I’m already jumping down the seats toward her, knife raised. I slam down on the first bench, still four rows away from Maru. I stumble, my leg giving out. Now, she does turn.

Terror, desperation, exhilaration all crash through me. I grab the second bottle on my bandolier, already springing to my feet as I yank it from its strap and throw it at Maru. Her eyes land on me, halfway twisted around, as the bottle strikes her shoulder, exploding as if it hit a brick wall.

I jump toward her, my last jump, probably to my death, as the smoke bomb in that bottle erupts into a geyser of green. The smoke engulfs both of us, and there’s nothing more I can do now as I fly blindly through the air, knife swinging for her neck.

My knife strikes against something hard. I crash into her next, and then everything is a blur of pain. I scramble to latch on, to gain leverage so I can plunge my knife deeper, but I only feel it scrape over something unyielding, like trying to pierce a rock, and then white flashes through my vision and I’m pinwheeling through the air. I only register the pain in my head from where I’d been struck when I crash into the ground and go rolling.

[14 points Bludgeoning damage sustained.]

[3 points Bludgeoning damage sustained.]

[6 points Bludgeoning damage sustained.]

[3 points Bludgeoning damage sustained.]

[2 points Bludgeoning damage sustained.]

The sky is spinning above me. My arm and head and knee are all screaming in pain. Someone nearby is coughing. A hint of green drifts into my vision, and my thoughts finally stop rattling around enough for me to gather my wits—my knife isn’t in my hand anymore. Where’s my knife?

I struggle to roll onto my side and stand, but the blow to my head knocked loose my sense of balance, and I tip back over onto the ground once more, landing hard on an already injured shoulder. Pain lances through me, and I gasp in a breath.

People are yelling. There’s a thunder of approaching footsteps. The coughing turns gradually into laughter—unhinged laughter. A laugh I’d know anywhere.

No. The fear creeps back in. No, no, no!

I struggle upright, only making it to my hands and knees, still swaying from Maru’s blow. A crowd of contestants gather around me, weapons drawn, but I pay them no mind. Where’s Maru? Where’s my knife? I can’t give up now. I can’t!

“No!” Maru shouts, her voice booming across the field. “Leave them for me.”

The competitors back away, and finally my swimming vision slows enough for my gaze to land on Maru.

She waves a wisp of my smoke away, crossing the ground with a feral smile on her face. My insides seize up, a cold so intense it burns, and I’m not sure if my fear or hate for her is stronger.

“You tried to kill me,” she says with a chuckle, causing many of the onlookers to gasp and whisper.

I push myself to my feet, but the world tips and I crash to the ground once more. No, not now. Work with me, body. You can’t betray me now!

Maru laughs at my pathetic attempt at defiance. I try to get up, but the butt of her spear cracks into my chest, flipping me onto my back.

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[3 points Bludgeoning damage sustained.]

She plants the end on my chest, its pressure pushing down on me like a promise. “I recommend you stay down,” she says.

I grind my teeth, grab the butt of the spear anyway, but I might as well be trying to push a piece of rebar out of the way.

She holds up my knife with her other hand. “Is this yours?”

If I’m going to die, I won’t do it begging for my life. “Yes.”

“You landed a blow,” she tells me. “You never could have done any damage, but you at least connected. You know where you hit me?”

I stiffly shake my head, mentally seething. She’s mocking me. Belittling my attempt. I hate her all the more because I know she’s right: I never had a hope of doing any real damage.

She taps her temple. “Any mortal would be dead. Not to mention…” She runs her finger down the length of the blade, then rubs her fingers together.

Echo chimes in. [Inflicted status effect: Poisoned]

And then the very next moment: [Status effect expired.]

My last flicker of hope snuffs out.

Maru throws her head back and laughs once more. “Delightful.” She excitedly holds it up for others to see. “Can you believe that? She poisoned it!”

She tosses it to the ground next to me, and I immediately grab for it, but the blade is just out of reach.

Maru leans in, grinning. “See? Even now she hasn’t given up. She’s still trying!”

My ears grow hot at the mockery, and I stop scrabbling for the knife. Pathetic. I must look like a child. Instead, I turn my glare back on her, narrowing my eyes.

“Oh, I love that look,” Maru says. “That’s the look I’ve been waiting for. No fear. No reservation. That passion. I could eat it up.” She turns back to the crowd who’s by now giving us a wide berth. “You all should be ashamed. This kid is making you look bad. I demanded no hesitation. I demanded that you show me everything you’ve got. And the only one who’s piqued my interest today is this runt. Now.” She leans down, reaching for my scarf. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Fear edges out my anger and humiliation as I realize she’s about to see my face. She’ll recognize me for sure. She’ll know she failed to kill me the first time. “No!” I cry, grabbing her outstretched hand. She brushes past my grip like I’m not even there, then tugs the scarf away.

I freeze as Maru’s eyes trace over me. I stop breathing, pinned to the moment like I’m frozen in time, knowing this is it: the last thing I’ll ever see is Maru’s mirthless smile bearing down on me.

“Well what do we have here?” she says. Then she touches a finger to my forehead, and time restarts with a searing pain.

I gasp, arching under her grip, as it feels like a hot iron is driven through my skull. My mouth opens, but no scream comes out. I want to thrash, but every muscle has seized up. I want to curse Maru, to tell her how I feel, but all I can think about is the lance of heat through my mind.

Then, the sensation vanishes. The pain dulls to a faint ache. My sight returns as Maru releases me, and the pressure of her spear against my chest vanishes.

“Congratulations,” Maru says. “We have our first contestant for the Gods’ Tournament.”

What? I touch my forehead, where the ghost of her touch still burns on my skin. No, she can’t mean that. That has to be a mistake. “Wait,” I croak.

Maru strolls away, surveying the rest of the applicants. “I’m done with you all for today. Come back tomorrow and show me a real fight.”

And with a crack of thunder, she’s gone.

I lay there, stunned, thoughts buzzing through my brain like a hive of bees. She didn’t recognize me. She didn’t kill me. And not only did I fail to kill her, she didn’t even consider me a nuisance. She was amused by my attempt. Frustration stings my eyes, burning alongside the brand on my head.

I touch it again, as if I’d merely imagined it the first time, numb with shock. She couldn’t have. She can’t.

“Sal!”

Talia’s voice breaks through the murmurs of the other contestants, all still milling about and talking amongst each other in hushed tones.

I groan, rolling over onto my side. Everything hurts. Echo. Health Check.

[HP: 59/90]

“Are you alright?” Talia drops down to my side. Before I can even answer, she sucks in a startled breath. “Lorata’s Grace. What did you do?”

“What is it?” Lisari jogs up behind Talia, her head cocked curiously to the side. “Sal, how did you get up here?”

“I fucked up,” I mumble as Talia helps me sit up. “I should have just left. Why? Why didn’t she recognize me?” I blink rapidly, trying to banish the tears before they can fall. “Did we really mean so little to her? It would have been better if she recognized me.”

“Gods Above,” Lisari says, likely putting things together. “You didn’t come up here to confront Maru, did you? How did you survive?”

I don’t say anything, but Talia answers for me. “She’s been marked. Widengra’s insignia. You’ve been entered in the tournament, haven’t you?”

My throat seizes, frustrated, angry, desperate. “I didn’t want to. She just did it. She—she thought I was competing. She didn’t even take me seriously.” I look up at Talia. “I don’t have to do it, do I? I can just not show up.”

But the apologetic look in Talia’s eyes doesn’t lend me any hope.

Lisari grimaces. “When the gods expect something from us mortals, it’s never an ask,” she says. “It’s a promise.”