Father’s fingers clenched around Ted’s neck like a steel vice, and his lips curled into a sneer. “Pathetic.”

  Fire burned in Ted’s lungs while his heart hammered and he flailed at his father’s grip like a fly swatting at a tsunami.

  Father squeezed tighter at his neck. “I offered you everything!”

  Ted’s lips quivered. The world began to fade. He tried to utter the word to save himself, but the breath wouldn’t come.

  “Ungrateful little dog.”

  Clenching his eyes shut, dredging the last of his strength, Ted coughed, “Rip.”

  The world lurched. The pressure on his neck vanished. Father vanished.

  Ted’s knees gave way and the ground rushed up. His palms smashed against the marble floor, and he gasped in sweet, stale air. Around him rose walls of steel, and redwood doors adorned with Orcish symbols.

  The Contingency spell had worked.

  He pulled himself up and broke into a sprint, darting between the walls of steel in search of the way up.

  There! A staircase.

  Heading for it, he drew on his mana and cast a powerful Levitation spell. A light breeze brushed past his face and he flew upward, towards where he’d stashed Alenia.

  Floor after floor zoomed past. When he reached the fifteenth floor, he turned and headed to the arena. There she was, lying on her back, hidden amongst the seating, gagged, bound, blindfolded, and collared, clad in her plain white shirt and underpants.

  Ted cast a Constant Telepathy Nullification spell upon her as he approached. He squatted next to her, pulled out the makeshift gag fashioned from a piece of scrap leather Cara had insisted on keeping, removed the blindfold, and looked down into the rage within her eyes. “How do I beat him?”

  She stared up at the ceiling and said nothing.

  He sat in a seat a couple of paces back from her and watched her remain motionless, no doubt plotting her escape. Even completely at his mercy, she still searched for an escape. A way to return to his service. “This is just as much for him as it is for me.”

  She scoffed. “I doubt he’d see it that way.”

  “He might,” Ted said. “When we’re done.”

  “Done killing him?”

  Ted looked away. “Saving him.”

  “Let me go, and I’ll save him.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” Ted said. “Not yet. Not until I’ve smashed that bastard’s face in, and saved the world.”

  Another scoff. “I could build a tower with your ignorance.”

  Ted stared out at the arena itself. It was as big as a large stadium, with various structures in the middle. A large teal circle ran around the edge, glowing with Protection magic, much like the circular barrier that the Order of the Battlemage used in their own arena. Once a fight began, there’d be no escape until a killing blow had been dealt.

  Within that circle lay dozens of stone pillars supporting a multi-level arena. No walls, of course—wouldn’t want the fans to miss out on all the blood and gore.

  Ted sighed. This world, this place—it was wrong. It needed to be fixed. “Then explain. Help me understand.”

  Silence fell once more. A minute dragged by, and still Alenia said nothing.

  “Fine.” Ted rose from his seat and drew his falchion. He stepped up to the silent assassin and stood over her, clutching the leather grip of his weapon tight. “I suspect the Emperor will be more amenable when the clock’s ticking on your soul, as well.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Kill me, and you lose your leverage.”

  “He can resurrect you.”

  Alenia snorted. “Resurrection magic’s been lost for ten thousand years. He’s leading you on—Cara’s gone.”

  Ice stabbed at Ted’s chest. “You’re lying. You’d say anything to save your own skin.”

  “Am I?”

  Ted stepped back. He couldn’t trust a word she said. Then again, maybe he didn’t have to. He closed his eyes and focused upon the various segments of magic he’d gathered.

  Magic to see. Magic to reach into minds. Magic to alter memories. The tools were all there, but in separate segments. Modifying segments or stitching them together in a different way wasn’t going to cut it, not this time.

  He gritted his teeth together. It could be done, Aspect Crafter had confirmed that, but still… Creating a segment from scratch risked blowing him sky high, even if he had plenty of time, which Cara very much did not.

  Ted took a deep breath and consulted with the Zelnari crystal. He searched through again and again, but there was nothing. Nothing useful, anyway. Endless pages of indecipherable ramblings about magic, but nothing he could find on building segments from scratch.

  What if the task was too basic to explain? The crystal was made for a Zelnari, or at least that was the fiction. Zelnari’s language was magic. The Spellcrafting system bound magic and gave it rules, but would it not still be built upon the language of magic?

  Ted focused in on the segments, picked out one of the smallest blocks, and searched for the concept of that block in the Zelnari crystal.

  A two-dimensional array appeared in Ted’s mind. The first column of each row bore Zelnari symbols. In the other columns were expressions of that symbol in different configurations of magical threads.

  This was it. A dictionary between magic and Zelnari. If only he knew more Zelnari, he might be able to craft whatever spell he required. As it stood, trying that would be like playing Russian roulette with a semi-automatic. Still, it was another tool in his kit.

  Using the dictionary and the spattering of Zelnari he had picked up, he broke down the various segments that he hoped to copy from. With this new, deeper understanding, he began the painstaking work of crafting Read Memories. Thousands of tiny decisions about what to copy, what to leave, and how to weave together the strands of magic into a pattern that wouldn’t explode on him.

  A few minutes later, Read Memories was ready. At least, he stood over Alenia and hoped for both their sakes that he’d gotten it right. “Let’s see if you’re telling the truth.”

  She stared up at the ceiling and said nothing, wise enough to know she could offer no resistance.

  He crouched down and cast the spell, pressing its magic into her forehead while focusing on whether or not the Emperor possessed resurrection magic.

  Memories flooded back. Eric drawing away orcs in the desert. Rumors of Rebirth whispered by a minotaur in a smoky tavern. Glancing back over her shoulder to see a giant smash her Hero’s face against a jagged rock. Reading through tomes of calligraphy with Eric, laughing together at a pun about wood elves and dung. Gasping at the line, Kiriel opens the door. Stalking alone through the Great Forest. Interrogating an anxious Prowler with the aid of an Imperial mage. Investigating a burned out tree. A hollow leading down into the ground. The ancient wood elven ruins, the entrance long since sealed and impossible to enter. The Emperor’s rambling and raving of her incompetence. Pain lashing at her back. Her screams.

  Ted pulled out of her mind and gasped in air. She was telling the truth. The Emperor did not have Rebirth.

  “He didn’t use to be this way,” she said.

  Ted’s legs trembled as he struggled to stand. “I know.”

  “Then work with him.” She dared to meet Ted’s gaze while spouting such insanity. “He spoke often of his love for you, long ago.”

  “He killed Orlanda. Killed me. Made you kill Cara.” Ted shook his head and pressed the tip of his blade against Alenia’s throat. “There’s only one language he understands now. I need to speak that language.”

  “Very well,” she said, closing her eyes.

  “You’d die for him?” Ted asked, even knowing deep down the truth of what had to be.

  “I have faith he’ll protect me now, as he has all these years.”

  Ted pricked her skin with his falchion. Watched blood trickle out. “He doesn’t care about anyone. Not anymore.”

  She let out a chuckle. “How little you know.”

  The way she said it… Ted tensed up. It didn’t sound like a lie. “How many times did he risk his life for yours? Let his goals fall so yours could soar?”

  “I owe him my life many times over. I just wish it hadn’t cost him so dearly.”

  Ted’s grip tightened, pushing the blade a little harder against her neck. “He’s a monster.”

  “Perhaps. But that’s not all he is. Are you not driven as he is to save Cara?”

  A chill rolled through Ted, and memories tumbled past. How early he’d have given his life for hers. How he’d stayed. Why he’d stayed. “That’s different.”

  “Is it?”

  His jaw clenched. Even with his blade at her neck, she still had the audacity to be calm. Collected. Deadly. “I’m a good person.”

  “Of course.” She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. An inevitable truth. “You’re a Hero.”

  Ted stepped back, keeping his blade leveled at the witch. “However you’re doing it, get the hell out of my head.”

  Alenia let out another grim chuckle. “You know as well as I that the collar precludes casting magic.”

  Ted shook his head, wanting to deny it.

  “He’s not just a monster,” Alenia said. “He’s my Hero. Our Emperor. Your father.”

  Ted’s fists clenched.

  Save your father, save the world.

  This wasn’t about him. To save the world—to save Cara’s world—he had to save his father. He turned away from Alenia, a plan slowly coming together. He wiped his blade clean and sheathed it, then stared at the Grand Arena. How many Heroes and their Companions had come here to do battle? How many had watched the bloody spectacle of combat sports?

  He knew now what had to be done. How he could save his father.

  And it certainly wasn’t combat as sport.