Counting Shadows (Duplicity)

things.
    Jolik nods and returns his attention back to the arena floor. I follow suit, just in time to see Lor leap forward at Chagra. The beast stumbles backward, and the crowd lets out a collective gasp. Chagra always strikes first.
    Not anymore.
    While Chagra tries to regain his footing, Lor lunges at him with his sword and slashes the beast’s shoulder. Chagra howls in pain and takes another step back. Its eyes widen, and I can see their color. Purple. A deep, royal purple, so pretty it’s mesmerizing.
    Lor lunges again, sweeping the sword in a perfectly-balanced arc. Chagra yelps, barely managing to stumble out of the way. It growls and swipes at Lor with its paw, but he quickly ducks.
    The fight continues, the crowd gasping and occasionally clapping. Lor fends the beast off, flustering it more and more with each swing of his sword. Chagra grows more desperate, its attacks increasingly short and inaccurate.
    Most of the crowd is on their feet. Beside me, Father grips his chair like he’s trying to strangle it. He’s holding his breath, his teeth gritted and slowly grinding back and forth.
    Issuing a command to kill Lor is as good as admitting that Chagra has lost. Which isn’t supposed to be possible, since Father says his beast is undefeatable. But allowing Lor to continue his attack may be a death sentence for Chagra.
    I can almost see Father’s mind spinning as he struggles with the decision. I let out a gasp of air, my lungs burning from holding my breath. Lor may not be the man I’m looking for, and he may be a jerk, but he’s a person. A person I talked to. A person I know. He’s not nameless and unknown, like the other contenders I’ve watched perish.
    I don’t want him to die.
    Chagra snarls and leaps forward. The crowd takes in a collective gasp, and I feel like my lungs are going to burst. Lor holds up his sword, bracing it with both hands. Father curses, not even bothering to keep his voice down.
    Chagra is about to impale itself.
    Then the sword skitters off to the side, tumbling through the dust like a shred of paper caught in the wind. Chagra lets out a shrieking howl of triumph, but I don’t bother to cover my ears. I’m frozen, my eyes on Lor.
    He’s underneath Chagra, pinned to the ground by the beast’s paw. Lor struggles to free himself, but Chagra just presses harder. Chagra lowers its head, jowls dripping foamy saliva onto Lor’s cheek.
    Lor reaches out, grasping for the sword Chagra swatted away from him. He yells when his hand doesn’t find the weapon, and slams his fist into Chagra’s leg. Panic overtakes his expression, and I turn away. I don’t want to see him like this.
    In the few minutes I spent with him, Lor never showed fear. He was proud. He shouldn’t have to die like this, with hundreds of people watching his terror.
    Lor grabs a heavy stone from the ground beside him, and takes a moment to aim. Just as Chagra tries to swat the rock out of his hand, Lor hurls it at its face. Chagra yelps as the stone strikes it, bludgeoning its eye. Blood streams down the beast’s face, blinding it for a moment and forcing it to stumble back a single step.
    It’s all Lor needs. He rolls to the side, away from Chagra, barely missing the beast’s claws as they swipe toward him again. Chagra manages to catch Lor’s shirt with his claw, and tears it from his chest.
    Lor yells, and I look away. But not quickly enough to miss the blood seeping from Lor’s side. I shudder, knowing Chagra caught more than just Lor’s shirt.
    “You’re upset,” Father states blandly.
    Glancing over to him, I find a small smile on his lips. I wonder if Father even sees the blood.
    Tearing my gaze from him, I look back at the amphitheater floor. Maybe when the Match is over, I’ll slap that smile from Father’s face. But now all I can do is stare down at the arena.
    Lor runs to the sword, but isn’t quick enough. Chagra is on him in an instant, batting him to the side with its paw. Lor slams to the ground and rolls a few feet.
    Chagra’s lips raise into a tortured grin, and it bats at Lor again, sending him flying into the arena wall. Lor collapses, his face pressed into the dirt.
    This time he doesn’t stir.
    A few members of the crowd break into slow applause, thinking the Match is over. Chagra has won, as always.
    I feel sick.
    Chagra slowly approaches Lor’s body, its hackles lying back down. I swear the beast looks smug. But it’s cautious as it pads toward the body, taking one