Castor flicked his sword from side to side like a pendulum as he studied Tanner. His eyes fell to Tanner’s own blade.

“It looks like we have another challenger,” Castor sneered.

The spectators erupted into fresh applause.

“I don’t want to fight you,” shouted Tanner over the din.

“You come here and call me a coward, yet you won’t back up your words with actions,” said Castor.

“I’ve seen enough ‘fighting,’ as you call it,” said Tanner. “I know my true enemies.”

Castor gave an uneasy smile. “All right, all right,” he said, signaling at the crowd to quiet down. “It’s getting late. We’ve been here all day, and my new friend is probably tired. The challenges are over until tomorrow….”

But the crowd groaned with disappointment and began to chant again. “Castor! Castor!”

Castor shrugged. “What’s your name, stranger?”

“Tanner,” he said.

Castor eyed Tanner suspiciously.

“Tanner …” he repeated, smiling. “You look familiar. Yes, that’s it! I once owned a hog that looked just like you. I slit its throat.”

Tanner felt a surge of rage and pushed past the jeering crowd, unsheathing his sword. Blood pounded in his ears and he could barely think straight enough to plan what he’d do next.

“You stepped into the circle, friend,” Castor sneered, pointing his sword at Tanner’s face. “Nobody is going to save you now. Give me your sword, and I’ll let you walk away.”

“Tanner, don’t …” said Gwen. But he hardly heard.

“You’ll have to take it from me,” Tanner snapped back at the boy from Colton.

Castor grinned. He paced closer to Tanner, his eyes narrowed, while the crowd cheered. His spare hand drifted toward the stubby dagger in his belt. Tanner drew his sword and held it low, ready to protect his torso.

Castor drew his dagger and attacked. In one hand he wielded his sword; in his other, the dagger. He swiped left with the sword’s blade, and when Tanner blocked, Castor spun — just like he had with the skinny young boy — and darted forward with his dagger. Tanner stumbled backward, and Castor kicked him to the ground. Castor’s sword blade was pressed against Tanner’s throat. He raised the point of his dagger above Tanner’s chest.

“All I have to do is let go,” he said, jerking his head at the dagger, “and it will plunge into your heart.” Before he finished speaking, Tanner swiftly rolled to one side. Castor released the dagger, but it pierced the muddy ground. Tanner jumped to his feet, and, as Castor retrieved his dagger, Tanner brought his sword down. Castor straightened up just in time, blocking Tanner’s attack. Hastily, Castor shoved his dagger into his belt and attacked again with his sword. Tanner parried high, dodged a sideswipe, and just managed to bat down Castor’s sword. They circled.

He’s better than I am, Tanner realized.

He could see that Castor knew it, too. He was waving his fist at the crowd again and nodding at the responding chants.

Castor knocked Tanner’s sword down, forcing him to double up. Tanner rolled under a swipe at his neck and dodged backward, so that Castor hacked the ground.

That’s it, thought Tanner as Castor, breathing heavily, wiped the dirt from his blade. I’m faster than he is! I’ll tire him out!

Tanner glimpsed Gwen in the crowd, surrounded by shouting women and children. Her face was creased with concern. Tanner was almost caught off guard as Castor charged at him. Tanner rolled and vaulted a low swing that almost caught his leg. He circled away again.

“Stand still!” Castor shouted, panting. “Fight like a man!”

Castor feinted right — but he was slowing down. Tanner dodged Castor’s blow, knocked his sword down, and slashed at him, slicing through Castor’s tunic.

He’s tiring. Tanner pressed in again. Castor blocked in fluid strokes and tried to push him back. But Tanner leaped around him, and as Castor spun, Tanner caught Castor’s sword from behind — the blades clanking and scraping — and Tanner pulled, trying to yank Castor’s weapon away. Castor strained against him, panting, his face slick with sweat.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. They weren’t just cheering Castor’s name anymore; Tanner was drawing just as many cheers. People climbed onto ruined rooftops and children perched on women’s shoulders to get a better view.

His face twisted with effort, Castor yanked his sword free. He yelled a battle cry as he leaped at Tanner.

Tanner braced his feet wide and held his sword ready to meet Castor’s. The blow made his blade shake so violently it felt as if it might shatter. But Castor had landed awkwardly. Tanner shoved him backward, and as Castor stumbled, Tanner clashed his blade against the other boy’s. Castor fell to the ground. Tanner kicked his opponent’s sword away, put his boot on Castor’s chest, and lowered his sword to the other boy’s throat. The crowd shouted its applause.

“This fight is over,” Tanner said, wiping the sweat from his eyes, his chest heaving. Castor stared up at him, more surprised than frightened. Tanner looked for Gwen again in the crowd and smiled with relief when he saw her. But she was cupping her hands around her mouth, shouting something at him.

“— out!”

Tanner frowned. Look out?

Something heavy hit him from behind. The world blurred as the ground came up to smack him in the face and chest. The crowd fell silent. Tanner rolled over.

A great, coiled ball of golden fur and muscle.

She was a massive cat, as large as Gulkien. The creature arched her back, her tail pointed straight up. Her eyes glittered with an angry green light, and she bared razor-sharp teeth at Tanner. At the edge of his vision was Castor, sitting up and brushing the dirt from his hair. The crowd screamed and scrambled away in fear.

A Beast!

Tanner stayed frozen on the ground, not daring to move. His eyes fixed on the creature, as her tense, gigantic muscles rippled under golden fur. Daggerlike claws slid out from her paws and she spat angrily at him. The Beast tensed, ready to pounce. Beyond the creature, Tanner could see Castor smiling. Tanner felt empty fear in his gut.

I’m going to die.