"Belly Games," Dallan said, picking up where he left off, his voice a low rumble echoing off the damp stone walls. "The event every five years. It's a big deal down here. They throw prisoners into an arena and make them fight beasts, each other, and whatever is nastiest. Crowds pack the theatre, betting on who will bleed out first."
He shifted against the dungeon wall, the coarse stone digging into his back, but he didn't seem to notice. His shaggy red hair caught the torchlight, glowing like dying embers. Bound hands rested on his knees, his wrists raw from the rope, but his face stayed calm, unreadable.
Karl's stomach turned. The chill in the air seemed to press harder against his skin. "They would take us to a place like that?" His voice cracked, betraying the terror that had been building in him since he got up to the clamps slapped on his wrists.
