Vincent had ordered her out to the weapons range, hours before sun up, to practice her chain-mace skills, which he flagged as the weakest of her skill sets. She preferred her sword but until the task was announced, there was no knowing what they’d have them do for the quarter final. Unlike her sword lessons, in which he urged her to keep her wrists still, swinging the mace away from her body required her arms to “Undulate like snakes” and “flow with the wind.” He got poetic when he was in the groove.

There was no poetry about him as he prepped her for her next fight. It turned out, he’d been right to train her in anything and everything.

“The rules are simple, for this task,” the clerk told them, smiling as he added, “there are none. It’s a race, and the two first contenders to make it will be our finalists.”

They were to fight their way to a pitch ten times the size of the regular ring. The terrain was hazardous, the battles brutal, and the outcome uncertain. Bottom line: anything could happen.

Janive strode into the enclosure, where Vincent strapped her weapons to her back, and headed right to her, saying, “I have a proposal.”

“Shoot.” Xandrie shifted her weight from foot to foot, making sure the arsenal she carried was secure.

“Saskia is going to hunt you down and slay you, the first chance she gets. She’s not just out to fight and win on merit, she means to kill you.”

Vincent stopped what he was doing and circled around to face Janive. “You know this how?”

Janive shrugged. “Anyone with eyes to see knows she was humiliated by Xandrie in the quarter finals. She’s never conceded defeat before. Saskia isn’t the kind to stand idly by and allow that to be. She’ll want revenge and she’ll want it served hot and bloody.”

Xandrie shook her head. “She fought well. There was no shame in her defeat.”

Janive shrugged. “Your funeral.” She turned to leave.

Vincent stepped forward, asking for her, “What did you have in mind?”

“Your trainer’s a wise man.” Janive smiled. “I’m thinking Xandrie and I should form an alliance. That way, I’ll have her back, when Saskia makes a play.”

“What about the other finalist, Althara?” said Xandrie.

Janive dropped her voice to a whisper. “The woman doesn’t stand a chance against Saskia. If you and I head to the bluffs and draw Saskia to us, Althara will follow. She loves the hunt, more than the fight. Saskia prefers flatter terrain, so she’ll hang back, but with no one to fight and everyone watching, she’ll track us all the way to the cliff-head. If she’s behind Althara she’ll have the advantage. That takes care of one opponent, leaving you and me to take Saskia out.”

“That’s a ton of strategy - are you sure you’ve read them right?”

“Lady,” Janive said haughtily, making Xandrie like her less and less, “I’ve been fighting these clowns my entire life. I can tell you what weapons they favor, what strategies they employ, who will lead, and who will follow. Trust me.”

Trust her. She forced herself not to laugh. She didn’t - not one bit. But she had a strategy of her own. Pretending to buy Janive’s bullshit meant she could keep a closer eye on her.

Janive held up her gauntlet in the traditional fashion. Xandrie crashed her own wrist against her new friend’s, sealing their alliance.

The second the marshal dropped the ceremonial flag, Xandrie and Janive high-tailed it out of the compound. Xandrie was fitter than she’d ever been, thanks in no small part to Vincent’s training. But beneath the muscle, she sensed another current, which spurred her on. She felt her magic. It had grown stronger since using it in so much abundance at Norda.

When they reached the headland, Janive suggested they split up, so they’d be able to survey more land. She hung a left, while Xandrie jogged right. They could still see one another, but they’d be able to apprehend either Saskia or Althara if they came by the jagged path or through the brush.

They didn’t have to wait long. Althara was stealth itself, but Xandrie – in a way that brought her an abiding pleasure – felt her presence long before she was downwind of them. Xandrie flashed a hand sign at Janive, letting her know the plan was unfolding just as she’d anticipated, she lunged at Althara, her falcata in hand, but felt the sting of another weapon about her calves.

Saskia had joined the fray. The three of them fought their way out of Xandrie’s hideout and into a clearing. Xandrie barely had time to think, but when Saskia took a swipe at Althara, she spun about to find her ally.

Janive stood on the bluff, looking down at them. The crooked smile on her face told Xandrie that this had been her plan all along. Well, she couldn’t say she hadn’t expected a betrayal.

Didn’t matter, though.

Xandrie bent down and grabbed a handful of dirt. She blasted Althara in the face with the entire handful and left her cursing her name, as Saskia tried to lunge for her. She didn’t care about either of them, though.

Xandrie snuffed the air, determined to find Janive, who’d run ahead with a head start. She’d be at the finishing line, soon.

The others had stopped trying to attack and started to run, too, each of them just as strong and powerful; Xandrie might have dragon magic pushing her steps, but so did they.

There was something she had that they didn’t though. She needed to win this. There was no other way.

Oh, she knew Rhey would marry her regardless, but then what? A Kingdom with its King and Queen unbonded, divided, butting heads? He’d chosen her. Now was the time for her to claim him back. So she pushed. She pushed. She pushed with all she had, all she was.

Suddenly a deep roar come out of her chest - a inhuman sound she’d never heard - and her steps became longer, faster. She’d never felt this - but she recognized the source of it all.

They had dragon strength. She didn’t. But she did have a bond with a tiger; never had she thought she’d be able to tap into it. Right now, her steps proved it. She was Claws.

She cleared the distance, effortlessly making it to the finish line in moments after this.

One certain traitor didn’t like that one bit.

“Oh for the sake of everything holy on this land! Won’t you just fucking give up yet? You should never have been allowed to partake in The Claiming,” Janive practically yelled.

“You poisoned me.”

She didn’t know how she’d deduced it; deep down, she just felt it.

“You would have done us all a favor if you’d just died from it, you filthy human skank.”

Well, that was quite enough of that.

She turned toward the royal tribune and asked, loud and clear, “Can I kill this piece of shit?”

Everyone gave her a thumb up.

Janive probably expected her to start a sword fight she hoped to win. But Xandrie had no intention to honor her that way - not when the woman had attempted to murder her with poison, the most cowardly way she could have picked. She didn’t deserve it.

Xandrie smiled as she felt the bond with her closest friend still firmly in place; in the blink of an eye, Claws was on Janive, teeth bared, mouth wide, jumping right for her throat, and ripping it from her body. Janive’s body lay, crooked and bloody, in the sawdust.

Xandrie raised her gaze to the stands and let the Elders see the tiger in her eyes. Best they know she’d been controlling Claws, so none of them get any ideas.

She turned just in time to see Saskia pass the line before Althara.

“Err- if that’s what you do with your contenders, you won,” the dragoness joked, pointing to the other woman.

Xandrie smiled back awkwardly.

“I need to apologize. I thought you’d poisoned me.”

Saskia looked like the very idea offended her.

“No way. If I wanted you dead, I would just challenge you in combat. Or, you know, fry you up. Only if you really pissed me off, though.”

That seemed fair enough.

More or less.

“By the way,” Saskia cried loud, also turning to the Elders and the King, “I renounced my claim.”

Althara echoed the same pledge, which didn’t make sense to Xandrie until everyone in the stands fell silent, and then dropped to their knees.

Shit.