"Don't remind me," Jedra said glumly.

"Sorry."

They sat in silence for a minute or so before Jedra said, "When we were crossing the desert not long after we met Kitarak, we were attacked by something he called a tokamak. An id fiend. It can make you think your worst fear is coming true."

"I have battled such a beast," Sahalik said.

"Let me guess," said Jedra. "You suddenly found yourself standing there with no pants on, and everybody was laughing at you."

"Close," the elf said, smiling wryly. "Very close."

Jedra didn't smile. "My worst fear was that I would hurt Kayan. Every time I would attack the beast, suddenly it would be her instead."

"Ah. And now here you are."

"Yeah."

"Well," Sahalik said, "don't ever let anybody tell you that dreams can't come true. Looks like you have proof that they can."

"Ha ha."

The big elf smiled weakly and stood up. "If you think of anything else I can do for you, let me know."

"Just get us out of here," Jedra said.

"I would if I could," Sahalik said. "Believe me, I've thought of every angle, but there just isn't any way."

"There has to be," Jedra told him. "I'm just not thinking of it."

Sahalik looked over at the ever-present psionicists, who watched them with bored amusement. "Well," he said, "if you do think of it, don't think too loudly. They're not as sympathetic as I am."

No, they aren't, Jedra thought, once again marveling at the twists of fate that had turned Sahalik into an ally, and Kayan into an adversary.

Jedra lay awake all night, trying to scheme a way out of their plight, but when morning came he was no wiser. A serving boy brought his breakfast, but he couldn't eat any of it. He just stood at the barred window and watched the sky grow lighter and felt the air grow hotter until the guards came to take him to the games.

Sahalik came with them, and helped Jedra dress in his leather armor. He was armored for battle as well, but he shrugged it off when Jedra asked him about it.

"It's my last fight," he said. "I was already scheduled for it when I gave Rokur notice that I was leaving, and I had to stick out the week to train you two anyway, so I decided to pick up one last week's pay while I was at it. Maybe it'll help bring the Jura-Dai back to better times."

"You be careful," Jedra told him. "There aren't any sure bets out there in the arena."

Sahalik grinned and slapped him on the back. "Yes, Mother."

Shani was not with him; she was evidently taking care of Kayan. Jedra let Sahalik and the guards, both psionic and otherwise, lead him through the streets of Tyr to the stadium. On the way he tried to reach out with his psionic senses to see if he could spot any weakness in their psychic restraints, but their shields blocked him from even that simple use of his power. He felt their stifling presence like a blanket wrapped tightly around him.

The other gladiators cheered when he walked with his escort into the holding area beneath the ziggurat. He wasn't led to the slave pens this time, but to a separate individual cage on the main floor, from which he could watch the games. Kayan was still nowhere to be seen, but the gladiators' waiting area was immense, and the massive columns holding up the rest of the ziggurat blocked much of it from view. She could have been only a few feet away, blocked by psionic means from contact, and he would never know.

Since theirs was the showcase fight of the day, they were scheduled late in the games. From his cage, Jedra watched gladiator after gladiator march out into the arena, and only half of them march back. The fighting often lasted until both combatants were covered with blood and could barely stand, but quite a few fights lasted less than a minute. Deadly weapons didn't make for long battles unless the combatants were almost perfectly matched, and even though the officials tried to match them as closely as possible, as soon as one gladiator got the upper hand over another, he pressed his advantage without mercy.

Sahalik shook him out of his reverie. "You're next," he said while a guard unlocked the cage. Five more guards and three psionicists stood ready. Sahalik carried Jedra's short sword and shield, which he handed over, but the instant Jedra's hand gripped the hilt he felt the grip of the psionicists close in around his hand as well. They weren't going to let him use the blade on himself.

Some of the other gladiators shouted crude encouragement, saying things like, "Go show her who's boss!" and, "Don't take any sass from her this time!" Jedra ignored them, searching for Kayan. Where was she?

There. Emerging from behind the pillars nearly fifty feet away, flanked by her own guards. Jedra's heart leaped at the sight of her, but she looked so small and helpless he wondered if she'd been starving herself. She wore armor as concealing as his own, no brass brassiere for her. She looked beautiful to him just the same. Kayan! he mindsent, not caring if he was punished.

Jedra, she replied. I love-But the psionicists didn't let her finish. The shield around Jedra drew tight, isolating him completely from Kayan or anyone else.

When the cleanup crew was done removing the body from the previous fight and covering up the slippery spots with fresh sand, the crier stepped to the center of the arena and shouted, "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for, a command performance for our illustrious, most magnificent King Kalak. I present the crabby couple, the prickly pair, the-" Whatever else he called Jedra and Kayan was lost in the roar of the crowd.

Sahalik gave Jedra a slap on the back and shouted to be heard over the noise, "Remember what I taught you: a few superficial wounds to satisfy the crowd, then a clean stroke straight to the heart." Then he shoved Jedra out into the arena.

Shani pushed Kayan out at the same time. Instead of walking out into the center the way they were supposed to, they both turned toward each other and met just outside the entrance. They hugged fiercely, their swords and shields and armor getting in the way and tears streaming down both their faces. They kissed, momentarily slipping into convergence, but the psionicists came down instantly on that, forcing them apart both mentally and physically. The spectators, seeing only that they had kissed and then seemingly leaped back from one another, cheered at this first indication of hostility.

"She bit 'im!" Jedra heard someone shout.

Guards with pikes advanced on them from beneath the ziggurat, forcing them farther into the arena. As Jedra and Kayan backed away from them, the crier waved the crowd to silence and shouted, "Harken the words of your king!"

Kalak stood in his balcony at the opposite end of the arena, once again in his golden robe. He was a tiny figure at that distance, but his magically-enhanced voice echoed all around the stadium. "Today's battle has captured the hearts of the entire city," he said. "Like no other contest in the history of Tyr, this ritual combat has sparked the imaginations of every couple here. What husband has not dreamed of killing his wife for some slight, either real or imagined? What wife has not dreamed the same? Many of you have acted out your fantasies, but always furtively, behind closed doors. Today we will see the ultimate domestic quarrel played to its logical conclusion for all to see!"

Cheers from the crowd echoed off the ziggurat and the balconies and the stadium walls, but Kalak held out his hands for silence. "The betting has been fierce. Everyone has a favorite. But some of the less realistic among you would prefer to see a happier ending. I have been flooded with requests for mercy, from the lowliest romantic in the warrens to the highest ranking templars. Even their trainer, the popular elf-warrior Sahalik of the Jura-Dai, has asked for clemency."