the chamber. One of them glanced at it and then nodded and let them go toward the second grate, which led out of the chamber. The pair of guards on the other side also checked the paper, and then let them through.
After that there were stairs, which took them up to the level of the city. From there they passed through the main building of the prison district. There were more checkpoints and locked gates to pass through, and the document—no doubt some kind of official form stating the reasons for Arren’s removal—was displayed several more times before they finally reached a large pair of wooden gates studded with nails, and passed through them into the Arena. There, Arren was placed in a small cell under the stands, one that was rank with terrified sweat.
There was a bench there, at least, and he sat down and tried to breathe deeply as the guards departed, leaving him alone. Food was brought to him a short time later, but he didn’t eat it. From somewhere far above him, he could hear the noise of the crowd.
He was not left alone for very long. After a while he saw movement on the other side of one of the two cell doors, and Sefer arrived, followed by Orome. He was clad in red and looked a little sombre, but excited as well.
“Good morning, Arren. How are you?”
Arren only stared at him.
Orome sighed. “I’m sorry about this, Arren, but it was your choice. Now, you requested—actually, demanded, from what I’m told—to fight Darkheart in the Arena today, on your own. Well, I’ve come to tell you that we’ve decided to go ahead with it. All the arrangements have been made. It’ll be just you and him in the pit.”
“Good,” said Arren.
Orome nodded. “Okay, I’m fairly sure that’s all I had to say. We’re ready to take you out of here. Is there anything you want to know before we go ahead?”
Arren thought it over. “What happens if I kill it?”
If Orome thought the question was ridiculous, he didn’t show it. “Well, the standard procedure then is to let you go free. It’s a little silly, now I think about it—we certainly won’t be setting the griffin free if he kills you, but there you go, I suppose. Is there anything else?”
“What weapons will I have?” said Arren.
“A spear,” said Orome. “It’s the best thing for fighting a griffin; you can keep well away from the thing’s talons while you’re stabbing at it.” He looked past him, at the door on the opposite side of the cell. “They’re here. Good luck, Arren.”
A pair of Orome’s assistants had arrived, both armed and armoured. Arren stood up and walked across the cell to the door, without looking back at Orome, and waited while they unlocked and opened it.
They looked wary, as if they were expecting Arren to attack them, but he stood passively and let them lead him out of the cell and along a short corridor. It led to a small anteroom, unfurnished and gloomy, with a dirt floor. A narrow iron gate was set into the opposite wall, and sunlight shone in through it, casting shadows of the bars onto the floor.
One of the guards took off Arren’s manacles and handed him a long wooden spear. Arren took it and clutched it tightly, while the other guard went to the gate and opened it.
He didn’t wait for them to push him through it; he took the spear in both hands and stepped forward, without glancing at them, and they stood by and let him through, into the open air of the pit.
The instant he emerged, the roar of the crowd hit his ears. He looked up and saw hundreds of people sitting high above him on the rows of seats. There were even a few griffiners there. They were so close to him, separated only by the high wooden walls of the pit and the net of steel cables stretched between them. He could see their faces hanging above him.
A man was shouting over the noise of the crowd, from the podium where Orome had taken up position with Sefer by his side: “Arren Cardockson, the Mad Blackrobe, condemned for abducting a griffin chick, famed for his insane bloodlust! Darkheart the black griffin, killer of man and griffin alike! They fought once before, and today they fight again, to the death!”
Arren barely heard him. He looked around quickly, taking in his surroundings. There was no sign