Tainted: Book Three - Enslaved

27. King of the Rephaim

Mira

Kerry led us toward the industrial docks. The stench of barnacles and dead fish hit me while we were still a coupla blocks away from the water, and I imagined it was even worse for Rome. Dogs smelled things a thousand times better than humans, and that was without taking his warrior talent into consideration.

He didn't flinch from it, though, and neither did Kerry.

So pull up your big girl panties and deal with it, girl.

The roar of a large crowd had been steadily growing louder. I turned to ask Kerry, but he had his game face on, so I bit my tongue. I'd find out soon enough in a minute.

Rome's soft muzzle pushed into my hand, and I looked down at him. His fuzzy face squinched up in a frown, and his dark eyes bore into mine.

"Too late to back out now."

He answered with a soft woof, which made me smile. I petted his ears and wasn't sure if I'd done so to comfort him or myself.

The wharf Kerry led us to looked as if humans had abandoned it decades ago. A brick building squatted in front of us. Most of its windows were missing at least one pane of glass and white and yellow stains streaked the roof. A corroded offloading crane sat in one corner with its boom up and the hook block dangling high above our heads. The rest of the area was a mess of flattened wet cardboard, torn up planking, stringy weeds, cracked and pitted concrete, piles of black ash, and metal barrels shaggy with rust.

The noise of the crowd was almost deafening as it let out a chorus of oohs and aahs. As Kerry led us around the brick building, I was shocked to see we were on the ground floor of an arena. All around us, stands rose several stories high and were packed with many large bodies.

Very many, very large bodies.

"Who are the spectators?" I had to holler for Kerry to hear me.

"Rephaim."

Rome whined and leaned his bulk against me. I didn't have to hear him to know he was furious with Kerry for bringing me here and with me for putting myself in danger.

"Are they evil?"

"They have free will. They never make good choices, though."

He jerked his chin forward, and my eyes followed the movement to the center of the arena where two figures circled each other. One looked like a human or neph, but the other was nothing I'd ever seen in this world. If a kid made a man out of mud and baked it, it would look like this thing. It moved in slow, jerky jolts, which gave its opponent plenty of time and space to maneuver, but when it brought its fist down, the impact shook the ground.

Kerry leaned closer to half-shout in my ear.

"See what I mean? They're so blood-thirsty, they can't stop doing these dumb games. That's a golem, by the way."

I kept my eyes on the neph as he struck and dodged as if his life depended on it.

And maybe it does.

"Is it a fight to the death?" I hollered.

"They all are. Like I said, dumb."

And you're going to challenge someone to the same, and either you or he will not be walking outta here.

I swallowed hard and ignored Rome as he butted his head against my hip.

The neph was getting tired. Sweat streaked his face and his chest rose and fell in short pants. His strikes did less damage and his dodges slowed. The golem's fist hit the ground closer and closer to where he'd been standing a heartbeat earlier, and I suddenly knew how this contest was gonna end.