It was easy to enter the Arena. Half the guards seemed to have abandoned their posts to watch whatever it was unfolding on the sands, and Daivad knew the Arena well. It was a marvel of architecture just like the castle, and Aran had always been proud of it. She had done her best to make him proud of it too, taking him and Richard there every chance she got, educating them on the history of the place, on the Earthbreaking techniques that had been used to build it.

He was able to make his way up to the highest point of the Arena unnoticed, and he slipped onto the walkway just behind the stands. The crowd’s collective attention was focused only on the sands below, and the moment his gaze joined theirs, Daivad realized how ridiculous it had been for him to come here.

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When he’d felt Richard’s magic, his first wild, panicked thought was that Nyxabella had been caught. She’d been discovered in the outer circle, maybe someone had even seen her with Daivad, and Richard had attacked her—

None of that made sense. She couldn’t have been found so soon, and even if she had been, why would he have brought her to the Arena, which was definitely where his magic was coming from, to kill her?

The kid was right. He did have a problem.

And yet, what he did see on the sands didn’t make any more sense than the scenario his brain had concocted on its own.