The tip of Percy’s sword described tiny circles in the air that belied the weight of the weapon. Percy himself, his damp under his mane, danced on his toes, light-footed despite the long round of combat. His opponent took more deliberate, slow steps, mirroring Percy’s slow movement to the left and creating an orbit around the center of the room.

Above the two champions, a silent crowd screamed and chanted, their shadowy arms waving enthusiastically as they supported their chosen Courser. The stands were packed; not a single space had been left open in the rows of seating that climbed to the colosseum’s roof. Under the stands, behind a low wall separating them from the arena, three Coursers watched.

Lujayn’s eyes tracked Percy’s movements. The young warrior showed little fatigue so far despite his mild injuries. The barding on his left shoulder had been sliced through, and a thin line of blood tricked from a shallow wound. He seemed not to feel it, his large ears forward and eyes narrowed upon his opponent. Pride swelled in Lujayn’s chest. This was a fine warrior she had trained.

Alder’s eyes were on Percy’s opponent. He was glad the arena was well-lit, for the shadowy Courser that faced his lordship’s bodyguard would have blended right in with any dark spots in the arena. Despite the silence of the stands, Percy’s sword still rang out in an enormous metallic crash any time it came into contact with the shadow Courser’s blade. Alder flinched every time it happened. He was on the edge of his seat; Percy was one of the strongest fighters he had seen, and he would be devastated to see him bested.

Annaeus’ glare was not on the challengers at all. It was up in the stands- and more specifically, on the ornate spectator’s box that had been carved from the colosseum’s stone walls. Two shadowed figures stood, each wearing a crown upon its head. He should be up there - it was his right.

The shadow Courser darted forward, but Percy was ready for it. He parried the first barrage of strokes with moves so quick that the sword he held could be seen only in the glittering arc it created. Lujayn’s brow furrowed as she watched. Percy was giving ground - backing up, closer and closer to the edge of the arena. Tiny steps, yes, but she hated to see him struggle at all. She squinted across the arena, dazzled slightly by the light of the dozens of torches latched to the walls. The look on Percy’s face was what gave it away; he wasn’t struggling after all!

It was time to end this. Percy didn’t mind a bit of showmanship in a fight he knew he’d win, but it only took one moment of distraction, one slip or mistake, and he’d have to cede the competition. He planted his hind legs now, and sprang forward towards the shadowy Courser.

His opponent was clearly surprised. Its ears flew back as it brought its sword up to meet Percy’s, but it was at a disadvantage now; Percy kept advancing, his strokes strong and fast. The shadowy Courser gave ground, unable to face the onslaught of Percy’s deadly blade. Percy flicked his opponent’s sword towards the ground with his own sword and gave it a vicious twist. It flew from the other Courser’s mouth, clattering against the wall of the arena and coming to rest in the sand underfoot.

Percy waited, sides heaving and sword raised, until the light of battle died from his opponent’s body language. The shadow Courser dropped to a front knee, bowing to Percy; it conceded. Cheers rose from Alder and Lujayn’s throats, and even Annaeus tossed his mane in approval. In the stands, the crowd cheered regardless of who they’d been supporting; it had been a spectacular fight between the two Coursers.

Percy sheathed his sword and approached his opponent. The shadow Courser rose, and they touched noses briefly; Percy fought a shiver as his muzzle went through cold air where the other horse’s should have been.

On the far side of the room, a door slid open.

The party left the colosseum, heads high; Percy had fought a worthy opponent and won.

The hallway leading from the room was dank and claustrophobic. The party narrowed to single-file, Lujayn at the head and Percy trailing the group. It continued for some time, descending in some places and rising in others; it was impossible, by the end, to tell what altitude they ended up at. A narrow crevice stood to their left, and a larger doorway to their right.

As with every decision, Percy and Lujayn exchanged a quick word. There were no sounds coming from either passageway, nor were there the telltale movements in the shadows that would alert them to an unknown enemy. The decision was made; into the larger chamber they went.

The cavern was enormous, and shaped vaguely like a keyhole. They’d entered at roughly the midpoint, eleven-o’clock at the round end of the keyhole. At the end of the long stretch was a doorway. The four Coursers moved forward. There was no life to be found.

Magic was a different issue altogether. The moment the final hoof touched down in the chamber, there was a BANG! and a mushroom cloud of blue-and-gold smoke erupted from the center of the round chamber. Caught by surprise, the entire party bunched up, coughing hard to clear the smoke from their lungs.

The smoke dissipated almost as fast as it appeared, and in its place was the biggest humanoid skull any of them had ever seen. It glinted menacingly, its gold surfaced so polished Percy could see his reflection in it from where he stood. The party stood, shocked, before Lujayn kicked into action. “RUN!”