Shano blocked, startled. A needle struck his forearm. He blinked at it, then staggered back. One step, two. He toppled backward into the sand. His eyes rolled back, and froth bubbled at his mouth.

Kyda snarled and bounded into the ring. “You! You killed him!”

Dazed, Shano sat up. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Where am I?”

Kyda ran to his side and grabbed him by the shoulders. Concerned, he stared into Shano's eyes. “Shano, you okay?”

Shano scowled and plucked the needle from his arm. He climbed to his feet, Kyda hovering the whole time. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“Pitiful. The little wolf can only lick his father’s wounds,” Twain taunted.

Kyda whirled and growled at him, shoulders hunched. Shano grabbed him. “Kyda, no! Remember? Only one of us can attack at a time.”

“Stupid. Stupid rule.”

Twain scoffed, looking down on him. “Can’t even understand the rules? You don’t belong in the Arena. Go back to the forest.”

Kyda lunged. Shano barely grappled him back. “Stop! Kyda, remember? Only listen to me!”

A low growl escaped Kyda’s throat. He backed away, slowly.

“That’s right. Back away, coward.”

Dark eyes widened. Kyda wrenched free of Shano’s grip. He bounded across the arena on all fours, mouth wide.

Standing utterly still, Twain stared down Kyda. “…Nine. Ten.”

Right on cue, the voice rang out: “Ring five: winners, Twain and Spar!”

Kyda stumbled to a halt. He turned toward the voice, brows furrowed. “We didn’t fight!”

Shano frowned, then sighed. “We were in the ring together longer than ten seconds. Twain did a masterful job of manipulating the rules.”

“Why, thank you.”

Shano gave a terse bow and led Kyda away. “I hope that isn’t the extent of your skill. You won’t survive in this Arena if you rely on cheap tricks like that.”

“I thought you humans knew? All we filthy drow have are cheap tricks,” Twain mocked.

Shano frowned. He bowed slightly and backed away, leading Kyda out.

“So? Are we past the preliminaries?” Spar asked, wandering over to Twain with his arms crossed.

“Next group, ring five!”

“I guess so. Doesn’t look like there’s a second round,” Twain replied, glancing around.

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A rugged, muscular human hurried over. He nodded at Twain and Spar. “You two passed? Head down that hallway over there. There’s rooms out back for contestants, you get free board for as long as you keep fighting. Cafeteria down to the left serves meals, if you can catch ‘em. Fights start tomorrow, so rest up.”

Twain nodded his thanks. He turned to Spar. “Shall we?”

--

The Arena snaked on, rooms and passageways stretching in either direction. Most rooms were occupied, piled with personal belongings or already in use. Around a corner, in a particularly distant branch of the passages, Twain finally found a mostly empty room. One of the four bunks had a lump on it, snoring away, but the other two stood vacant. He hopped up and plopped his bag down beside him. A cloud of dust rose up around him.

Twain coughed, waving his hand. “Yuck.”

“You’re such a princess,” Spar chuckled.

“Fuck off,” Twain grumbled. He sat back, hands splayed on the bed.

Something crawled over the back of his hand.

Twain bolted off the bed, biting back a screech. A spider the size of a coin flew across the room, vanished under the other bed, and scuttled into the dark.

“It’s just a spider,” Spar laughed.

Twain rolled his eyes. “It ambushed me, is all. If that spider snuck up on you, you’d scream, too.”

“Princess,” Spar teased, hands treading the air like spiders.

A spider descended from the ceiling above Spar, spooling down on a silken thread.

“Sure, sure. I’m a princess.” Twain glanced at the spider and smirked.

Eight tiny legs touched down on Spar’s forehead. He frowned and brushed at it. The spider climbed onto his hand. As he lowered his hand, it splayed its legs out and leaped at his face. Spar screeched and jerked his head out of the way. The spider flew past.

Spar rushed out of the room, brushing at his face. “Is it gone? Is it off me?”

Twain doubled over laughing.

A soft sound from under the bed caught his attention. He glanced down. Black carpet slid out from under the bed, thick and deep. It rustled over itself, churning in place, a constant wave of motion. Glittering eyes reflected light, tiny hairs shimmering. From the opposite bed, a second wave leaped into motion, rushing toward the first. The waves consumed the floor, quickly blocking out all the visible stone.

Fucking hell, are those all spiders? Twain grabbed his bag and bolted out of the room.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Spar muttered. He high-stepped away from the room, swatting himself wildly. Black forms swarmed over his feet.

The spiders stopped at the door. They skittered back and forth at the edge of the threshold, poking their tiny feet out, but no further. As though afraid to leave, they swirled off Spar's feet and escaped back into the room.

Spar shivered. He brushed his feet down and made a disgusted face.

“Who’s the princess now?” Twain asked.

“I think we should find another room,” Spar replied.

“Seconded.”

They wandered back out into the hallway. No idea where to go next, Twain wandered at random, searching. All the rooms have occupants, but maybe we have to ask to join? Surely some of these people are friendly. He glanced in one of the rooms.

Four buff humans glared back, arms crossed, muscles gleaming under oiled skin.

Er… maybe not that one.

“Hey there!” Jamie waved, bounding down the hallway.

Twain waved back. “I take it you passed?"

She beamed at him.

"You find a room yet?”

“’Course, this isn’t my first time. You haven’t?”

Twain grimaced and shook his head.

“Wanna room with us? We’ve got an empty bunk.”

Kat glanced at Jamie. “Are you sure?”

Jamie shrugged back. “Why not? They seem nice. Nicer than those last douchebags who stayed in our room.”

Hesitant, Kat looked Twain and Spar over, then shrugged. “I guess it’s fine.”

“As long as there’s no spiders,” Spar muttered.

“Spiders?” Jamie looked at them.

Twain shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

A human elbowed his way past the four of them. Under his breath, he muttered, “Inferior races.”

Jamie rolled her eyes.

Twain watched the man go. Did I imagine it…?

Black shuddered around the man, almost an aura. He blinked, and it vanished.

Twain pushed his bag into Spar’s arms and hurried after the man. Over his shoulder, he called, “I call top bunk.”

Jamie and Kat looked at Twain, then Spar, eyebrows raised.

He shrugged. “Nature calls?”