I hop back onto my feet and wait for the Arachnoid to make another pass. It scurries around to face me, its legs moving in an odd rhythm. The limbs are now angled so they aren’t level. Clever spider. I can’t vault onto its body anymore.

I need a new strategy.

The Arachnoid scampers toward me, two long pincers flexing in its hungry mouth. My inner demon goes into overdrive. Volts of anger shock my system. My tail flicks eagerly by my shoulder.

As the spider scrambles nearer, I drop to the ground, rolling to the demon’s outer left side. My tail loops around two of its eight legs. Bounding to my feet, I run straight under the creature’s belly, flipping it onto its back. The Arachnoid lays stunned and immobile. I quickly step about the spider’s small body, weaving my tail around its eight limbs.

With a swish of my hips, I cinch all the spider’s legs together.

Gotcha.

Trumpets blare. The crowd cheers. A chant of “Kill! Kill!” erupts from the pavilions.

I fold my arms over my chest. “Why kill it? It hasn’t done anything to me.”

The Arachnoid recovers from its shock and starts fighting my tail. One of the demon’s legs breaks free, slicing through my leather armor and scratching my back. Pain rips up my spine. My eyes blaze demon-red.

“Okay, now it’s done something.” I spin about, hauling the Arachnoid with me. Once the demon has enough momentum, my tail releases it, launching the spider to the other side of the tournament grounds. The monster slams into the protecting wall with a thud, leaving a long smear of yellow goop as it slides to the ground.

I frown. “Well, now it’s killed. Yuck.”

The crowd erupts in another cheer. Cissy races out onto the green and gives me a big hug.

“Myla, that was amazing!”

“Thanks, Cissy.” It’s tempting to say ‘I told you so,’ but I don’t want to be a sore winner.

The Queen waves me toward the royal pavilion. I walk over and stand before her and King Connor.

Octavia grins. “You did well.” She and the King share a look that’s an entire conversation in itself.

King Connor raises his arm. “I hereby declare Myla Lewis from the House of Gurith to be the greatest warrior in all Antrum!” The crowd lets out a hearty round of applause.

Octavia addresses the crowd, a golden swath of fabric in her hand. “As is our tradition, I award a silk handkerchief to the winner.” She offers me the garment. “I thought you might prefer this, however.”

I take the fabric in my hand. It’s a delicate golden shawl with tiny pearl beading. “Thank you, Octavia. This is lovely.”

The Queen smiles. “The armor is yours to keep as well.”