Lillith

  Markus apparently lives here, at the arena, as I wasn’t escorted to anything resembling an office or throne room or whatever sages rule from, but an eerily familiar living room inside the colosseum walls. It didn’t look exactly like any particular room I had been in, as much as it carried a design similarity to a thousand rooms I had seen before. Or, rather, a thousand rooms Annie had seen before. It felt like the average middle class home in the US, minus any technology. It is, truth be told, completely unexpected. I kind of figured I’d find myself in a decadent Roman estate, waiting around until Joaquin Phoenix showed up and commanded me to approach.

  Instead I feel like I’m visiting suburbia. There are curtains drawn on the other side of the room, which piques my curiosity. Based on the width of the arena walls and the location of the door, there shouldn’t be much to look at behind them. Just another room, maybe. But certainly nothing worth looking at, at least not in the way you’d expect from a living room window. Maybe it’s just to complete the general vibe of the space. It would feel a bit weird without one, even if this one is unlikely to let any sunlight in.

  The sage isn’t here, despite summoning me. At least he gave me enough time to heal up before calling for me. I wasn’t expecting to encounter him so quickly, before I really made a name for myself, or openly defied his order to kill. I was prepared to fight him on such an occasion. I know how to stop sages from using their nexus energy, and getting close to me on his own would actually have been ideal. But I was planning on taking advantage of the demon queen persona to make some . . . changes without arousing suspicion. I already have a couple ways to deliver the necessary poison, but I'd hoped to add some easier delivery methods before actually using it. I was going to start just as soon as my debut was over. Go figure.

  I don’t know if I should try to kill him today. I’ll try to avoid it, even if he is rudely late. If he gives me the chance. I would have preferred to bring my cloak and cover up, so he didn’t get too close a look at any, uh, cultish things about me. I’ve covered up my false limbs pretty well, but I definitely don’t want to be too closely examined by a sage if I can avoid it. Well, I’ll play it by ear. I’ll try not to antagonize him and just probe for information in this meeting, and if things go south I’ll sink my fangs into him. While I wait, I might as well get a look around. Those weird curtains are calling to me. I walk across the carpeted living room, wondering where he managed to get modern carpet, and why, until I am close enough to touch the window. Just as I am reaching for heavy fabric in front of it, a voice interrupts me.

  “So, Cordelia, was it?” A man asks. I turn my head back, arm still extended to the curtain. And there he is, Markus, the Gladiator Sage.

  “That’s me,” I agree. He tilts his head.

  “Interesting. You don’t look much like a Cordelia. Not at all, truth be told,” he notes.

  Alright, I don’t want to fight a sage when I haven’t prepared for it. An impromptu fight with a sage is a terrible idea, so I need to avoid antagonizing him right now. “Know a lot of Cordelias, do you?” I ask. Welp.

  Markus laughs, indicating I haven’t fucked up too badly yet. “I suppose I don’t, fair enough. Still, your persona’s name seems to fit you better, don’t you think?” he pushes. I shrug.

  “It’s the outfit, I suspect. I was going for demon queen and that’s what I got. I looked much more like a ‘Cordelia’ before,” I explain. I’m not sure what a ‘Cordelia’ looks like, but I have a feeling Markus pictures her with fewer piercings and tattoos.

  “So you did,” he acknowledges. “May I ask why?”

  “You may,” I agree. The room is quiet for a moment before he realizes I am only going to answer the question he asked, and not the one he implied. This could be dangerous, but after his first response, I want to feel him out a little. I need to know what sort of person he is, and where the borders of his patience are. If he is the right kind of asshole, this approach may actually end up being better. Almost confirming my suspicion, he chuckles.

  “Why Lillith? It’s a pretty bold choice, considering the Void Sage’s recent campaign against her, don’t you think?” he asks. Yeah, I figured he’d be curious. Maybe not curious enough to call me over here immediately but I forgot rich men always rush to the end of all interactions, so to speak.

  “Exactly. What better way to get attention quickly, right? Besides, you already had a demon woman, I had to make it clear I was the next step up. Why, not a fan?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Nah, I like it. Rowan is just making a big deal over nothing if you ask me. Just trying to win the election with a big scary foreign enemy. Someone tries it every now and then, but it won’t go anywhere. No, I feel the same way about it that you do. It’s just good marketing. That combined with our first qualifying volunteer in forever, I think you’ll attract a much larger audience, provided you survive. Do you think you can survive? You did take quite the beating today.”

  “I’ll be fine, I can take a hit,” I answer.

  “That’s an understatement,” he laughs. “So tell me, what do you hope to get out of competing? Why are you here, my sweet little demon queen?”

  I lean my neck over a bit to crack it before I answer. “Is fame and fortune not enough?” I ask.

  “They are enough to try. Not enough to keep you here after a beating like that,” he replies. Fair enough. I hadn’t considered that when I was getting hit. I look at him in thought and remain quiet for a moment.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I want to be feared,” I finally answer, completely honestly. “I want the entire Republic to know who I am, and what I can do.” This is true. In fact, I need the country to know who I am, and I need them to know I can kill sages. That sages can be killed in the first place. And getting famous while able to move about freely, at least until I sink my fangs into Markus here, is invaluable.

  Markus smiles at me. “You’re a bit insane, aren’t you?” he asks.

  “I’m certainly not mentally well, but I wouldn’t be here if I was,” I admit. This draws another laugh from him.

  “Fair enough. Tell you what, Cordelia. I like you. Let’s make a deal, you and I,” he offers. I eye him suspiciously.

  “Is that not what my participation already is? I fight and provide entertainment, you give me wealth and fame?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I suppose it is, in a way. But I’ll be honest. You had an easy match today, and still needed to visit the infirmary. But you did have the idea to don the Lillith persona and, if I am being honest, you wear it well. Half my audience will want to kill you, while the more . . . eccentric half will want to bed you. But I have no faith you’ll survive long enough to make use of this. That’s why I called you here.”

  “To call me rage-inducing but sexy to eccentrics?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. Again he chuckles.

  “We’ll need to let you address the crowd more often, you have a sharp tongue, but in a likeable way,” he says. “So here is the deal I want to make. I will keep you alive. If it looks like you are about to die, I’ll . . . subtly step in and protect you. Not from injury, but from death. I will keep you alive until you have won enough matches to qualify for the wealth I promise free gladiators. In exchange you . . . delay that a bit. Fight for longer than you would otherwise have to. Keep promoting the arena for a few years after you do. Come back every now and again to fight a new champion, that sort of thing.”

  He smiles at me as he makes the offer. I don’t really need to think about it, anyone in my shoes would agree to that, which means I should. He’ll be dead before I have to fulfill my end of the bargain anyway. It could even result in better opportunities to kill him, if we are in some kind of business together. I can slip him some blood maybe, then kill him with a touch. Still. I want to push for one more thing.

  “I don’t want to kill anyone,” I respond. He blinks in confusion. “Well. At least not anyone I don’t decide to kill myself.”

  “I don’t want to alarm you, but that’s sort of what we do here. It’s like our whole shtick. Show up, stab some guys, get a little bloody, kill people. Pretty sure it’s right on the sign when you enter,” he quips. I roll my eyes.

  “Yeah I get the basic idea, picked up on it when I got here and a man’s head was being chopped off. I can be a bit thick at times, as my friends will tell you, but I did manage to work that one out. That’s why I need to make a deal with the man in charge. Just don’t give me the order to kill, and I’ll take your deal. I’ll stick around after I’ve met the minimum requirements for the arena’s incentives. Keep fighting. Keep drawing people in. It seems like a fair deal to me,” I offer.

  “Or I can throw you through that window behind you and get another girl to play demon queen,” Markus suggests.

  “You could. But I don’t think you will. I’m not actually all that easy to replace. You may not have faith I can survive the arena on my own, but you know damn well you aren’t finding another woman my size who can knock a man out in a single hit. Or stand up after that much damage. Who can convince the crowd she is a volunteer, show up in public, never try to escape. The eye color is pretty hard to get right too. I’m not going to be easy to replace quickly, and the genie is out of the bottle, so to speak. People have already met the persona. They are excited now. Not later when you finally find someone who checks all the boxes,” I challenge.

  Markus examines me seriously for a moment, but I’ve got a pretty good measure of the type of man he is now. Not one obsessed with personal pride. Not in the regular way, like Baldwin or Darian. No, he’s a different kind of dangerous. A slimy kind. But a kind I can use and negotiate with. There are also the playgrounds. The implications of the sages using them, living in them. The fact that this man runs a colosseum even though he is already in a position of unassailable power. This world is a game to these people. They don’t want complete subservience, not always. No. They want interesting side characters. That’s why I got this meeting. Because I was interesting. And that’s why I haven’t pissed him off yet. He wants to play a game; I’ll play it with him. He needs someone like me. Because he is fucking bored.

  Finally he sighs. “Damn. Maybe you are the demon queen. If nothing else, I won’t find a replacement with the stones to speak so directly with a sage. Alright, you have a deal. When you subdue an opponent, I won’t rule in favor of death. We’ll make some excuse about not wanting to empower the demon queen. Play it up. But I have my own new condition, since you want to add yours.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask?

  “Dinner. Here, once a week,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “Dinner and?” I intone, wearing disinterest all over my face like too much make-up.

  “Just dinner. You’re fun. Not afraid of me. I like you,” he replies, holding his hands up as if in surrender.

  “So you wouldn’t describe yourself as one of those eccentric weirdos then,” I push and he laughs.

  “Oh I definitely would. But not that kind. That’s not what I’m after, I assure you,” he promises.

  “Well hooray for that,” I answer. He offers his hand to me and I shake it. “It’s a fucking deal I guess.”

  “I’ll break out the champagne. Let’s make you famous,” he cheerfully cries, literally clapping his hands together once. I can work with this. It’s a better deal than I’d hoped for. It will buy me a decent amount of time. As long as he holds up his end of the bargain. Which he will, for a little while. Until he thinks he’s found the right moment. Now I just have to decide whether his death should be public, or private. I eye the window one last time.

  “What’s back there anyway? Can’t be much of a view,” I ask.

  “You won’t have to worry about that for a long while,” he dismisses. “Don’t think about it. Now, how about we have our first dinner tonight?”

  Well, I definitely need to see what’s back there now. I suppose I will have plenty of opportunities to do so. And plenty of opportunities to learn about all the other sages. I just have to take a few hits, and I’m pretty good at that. Honestly, these fucking dinners will be more painful.

  “Sure. Let’s eat,” I agree, locking my eyes onto his. Let’s fucking eat.