Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1) Rebecca Grey (first e reader txt) 📖

out the small door in front of us as she speaks against my ear. "If all this fails but we manage to survive, know that the door is always open for you to join my business."

"Recruiting even now, Hedda?" I whisper.

"My job is never done." She winks as what Mavi described as 'that shriveled little man' starts talking.

Today the small Elven man wears a suit in the crimson colors of The Oasis. Gold leaves are pressed in a swirling pattern up and down his jacket as well as his pants. He smiles, looking around our group. I can't help but look around a little myself. So many lives lost in such a short span of time. One week. That's all The Oasis Games lasts. The pain in my side is still prevalent and won't be fully healed until long after the event has come to an end, I'm sure.

"Challengers, no matter if you win, lose, or die, today you can take pride in knowing that you've made it to the final event!" The announcer claps his hands together. "Please stand at the starting line when you enter and I'll explain the intent of the game. Does everyone have their weapons?"

A murmur of agreement travels all around me. I turn to look back at Marcello. His attention flicks to my face and he smiles softly. He certainly doesn't look as if he's a weapon all on his own. Maybe that's only because I've gotten to know his kind, playful nature. He is all solid muscle after all.

The announcer disappears down through the smaller door and the large one opens slowly. You would think that after an entire week of events that I would no longer feel the conscious spike of adrenaline. Yet I do. It makes my clothes sweaty before we've even done anything and my heart pounds loudly inside of my head.

Bodies move in a swarm down the short hallway. The screen set up with the camera mirrors every anxious glance back at us. Hedda bumps into me, bumping me enough with her wide shoulders that I shift back and walk with Marcello.

The hall opens up to the crowds for one final time. For the first and last time, I allow myself to be in awe at the grandeur of the arena. Of the seats that climb higher than any of the crumbling buildings I've scaled in The Bend. Amongst it all, it makes me feel small. It makes everything that I could and can do feel less consequential, which calms a nervous part of me.

All lights are on in the arena and it's hard to see any of the crowd seated in the lowest rows. Platforms and barricades are set up all around a space with trees sprouting in between. A dense forest with every place to hide, but so small there's really nowhere to turn but into madness. What animals hide in the limbs of those green trees? What surprises has King Caspar left for us today?

When my mind dallies back to the king, I drag my attention back up. Both thrones are filled today. King Caspar looks out proudly over the set up of the floor, but Queen Aradel finds my gaze. Her black hair is parted straight down the middle, loose of any bands and hanging straight to just below her chest. Her blue eyes are a blaze of something... something speculating. She sets her attention on me and I on her. She's absolutely stunning. Then her head dips in a slight nod and she smiles.

The queen... smiled at me? Not the same taunting smiles I’ve received from the king, not at all. Her smile is bright and hopeful. Maybe I have a friend in these Games after all. The king seems to have had plenty of smiles for me over the course of this week, most of which have hardly been readable and have left me guessing as to what they mean.

Queen Aradel’s smile leaves me feeling determined. Some sort of pride swelling inside of my chest because, as the announcer had said, even if I don't win today, I've made it further than any Human has before. Suddenly, I've accomplished something... something in my nothing of a life other than destruction.

Yet another red line has been drawn across the dusty floor. The teams huddle in their small groups when we meet the edge of the event. All eyes, mine included, look to the announcer on his ascent up that same golden platform. He extends his arms out to the crowd, his eyes glistening in the spotlight that follows him.

"WELCOME TO THE FINAL EVENT!" He screams into the microphone, prompting the crowd to rise to their feet. Howls of excitement and anticipation bounce off the walls and applause threatens to drown out the announcers' next words. "With the honor of the Games, we've lost a few players along the way. Those who stand before you are the finest, bravest warriors all of our great country has to offer. Today will be no easy feat, and I've been assured that every player has brought their own deadly weapon to be used on this very day. Today will finally bring bloodshed!"

Marcello leans toward me, speaking out of the side of his mouth. He speaks alongside the announcer. "Today the players will have one task. Claim the flag of The Oasis. Claim the throne."

More applause and I gawk up at the Elf. "How did you know?"

He half smiles. "Nilsa, every Oasis Game finishes with a 'capture the flag' event. All players going for the same thing, hidden in the arena. I've watched it a thousand times on the video recordings we have of the previous events. You can find them at any library in The Oasis."

"Library." I say the word to myself, more shocked that he knew what we were to do this entire time and had never thought to