The far gate opened and into the arena came the Ba Ran Ghazel. Hadrian could tell from his friends’ shocked expressions that even after his description, they had never expected what now came toward them. Everyone had heard tall tales of hideous goblins, but no one really expected to see one—much less five, scurrying in full battle regalia illuminated by the flickering red glow of giant torch fires.

They were not human, not animal, nor anything at all familiar. They did not appear to be of the same world. Movements defied eyesight, and muscles flexed unnaturally. They drifted across the ground on all fours. Rather than walk, they skittered, their claws clicking on the stones in the dirt. Their eyes flashed in the darkness, lit from within, a sickly yellow glow rising behind an oval pupil. Muscles rippled along hunched backs and arms as thick as a man’s thigh. Their mouths were filled with row upon row of needle-sharp teeth that spilled out each side as if there was not enough room to contain them.

The warrior and the chief advanced to the center. They were large, and even hunched over, they still towered above Hadrian and Wyatt. Behind them the smaller oberdaza, decorated in dozens of multicolored feathers, danced and hummed.

“I thought they were supposed to be smaller,” Wyatt whispered to Hadrian.

“Ignore it. They’re puffing themselves up like frogs—trying to intimidate you—make you think you can’t win.”

“They’re doing a good job.”

“The warrior is on the left, and the chief is on the right,” Hadrian told him. “Let me take the warrior. You have the chief. Try to stay on his left side, swing low, and don’t get too close. He’ll likely kill you if you do. And watch for arrows from the range.”

From the walls a flaming arrow struck the center of the field, and the moment it did, drums began to beat.

“That’s our cue,” Hadrian said, and walked forward along with Royce and Wyatt.

The Ghazel chief and warrior waited for them in the center. Each held a short curved blade and a small round shield. They hissed at Hadrian and Wyatt as they approached. Wyatt had his cutlass drawn, but Hadrian purposely walked to meet them with his weapons sheathed. This brought a look from Wyatt.

“It’s my way of puffing up.”

Before they reached the center of the arena, Hadrian had lost track of Royce, who veered away into a shadow beyond the glow of bonfires.

“When do we start?” Wyatt asked.

“Listen for the sound of the horn.”

This comment was overheard by the chief, causing him to smile. He chattered to the warrior, who chattered back.

“They can’t understand us, right?” Wyatt recited his line.