Suddenly Dinnid swerved and came straight at Veriasse, battle arms thrust dangerously forward, his head tilted back so that his mandibles were extended down and out. It was the perfect posture for a ramming attack.
Veriasse dodged right early, and the dronon veered to intercept, then Veriasse dodged left at the last moment, grabbed for Dinnid’s sensor whip. Dinnid responded by smashing with his left battle arm, but Veriasse was already on the floor, rolling beneath the attack. He felt the cordlike sensor whip in his grasp, tugged it with all his might, hoping to pull it out.
Instead, the dronon flipped onto his back. At that angle of descent, Veriasse’s added weight was too much for the creature.
In that moment, Veriasse leapt and kicked Dinnid’s right front eye cluster with a cracking sound. Veriasse danced backward while the dronon scrambled to his feet.
Veriasse expected Dinnid to retreat, regroup for a moment, but apparently the creature went berserk. It leapt forward, thrashing blindly with its battle arms, trying to chop Veriasse in half. Veriasse staggered back to avoid its blows. Yet the vanquisher kept advancing.
Veriasse dodged right beneath the creature’s blind spot and struck the dronon full force in the right thigh of his rear leg, crushing the lord’s exoskeleton so that bits of carapace fell into its air holes.
Dinnid spun to attack, but Veriasse leapt under his blind spot and smashed the dronon’s left front eye cluster, then staggered back a step.
Orick shouted, “Get him! Kill him!” and Veriasse suddenly became aware of the noise around him. The dronons too were shouting, but he had been so focused during the fight, that he had blocked out all such mundane sounds.
Lord Dinnid was blinded in both front eye clusters. He responded by rushing forward, lashing out with roundhouse swipes of battle-arms. He twisted his head to the left and right, trying to spot Veriasse with his back eyes. After several seconds, he buzzed his wings, flew overhead.
Veriasse’s face burned painfully from the acid. He was sweating heavily, pouring salt into the wounds. He could feel the acid eating into his cheeks and neck like fiery ants.
Veriasse gasped for breath. The room was so damned hot, and his head began to spin. Lord Dinnid landed on the far side of the room, turned his back to Veriasse so that he could watch him, then Dinnid began the dronon equivalent of coughing. His right thigh convulsed rapidly, and bits of exoskeleton came flying from his air holes.
Veriasse considered rushing to attack, but he realized that Lord Dinnid would probably like him to try. The dronon would only fly away, forcing Veriasse to tire himself.
Veriasse began walking toward Dinnid. “Surrender now,” Veriasse offered. “I do not wish to destroy you!”
“I will not surrender to a soft creature like you,” the dronon answered. “You have been fortunate in this contest, and I have been incautious.”
The dronon vanquishers who circled the arena were still singing, their mouthfingers clicking softly. Dinnid shouted for silence, and they obeyed.
Dinnid turned, waved his sensor whip high, then stood tall on his hind legs. In such a position, he could not launch into flight, but he raised his battle arms overhead like vicious clubs. He stood silently, waiting for Veriasse to advance.
Veriasse watched the creature warily. The sensor whips collected information in three ways: they were chemoreceptors that the dronon used to smell with; they felt vibrations; and they acted as enormous ears. Time and again, the dronon proved to be more sensitive to sound than humans. Veriasse vowed not to be taken in by Dinnid’s apparent vulnerability.
Veriasse’s face felt as if it were on fire. He closed on Dinnid. Gallen and Maggie must have recognized the danger, and they began shouting loudly, “Get him! Kill him!” making as much noise as possible so that they could cover Veriasse’s approach. Dinnid twisted his head in frustration, slowed, then seemed to center on Veriasse and began stalking.
Veriasse waited. The air in the room was suffocating, and he had to focus, try to forget the pain in his face, the strangling air.
Lord Dinnid began coughing again, stopped to clear his air passages. Veriasse looked for a weakness. There were few places to attack. The dronon’s exoskeleton was so thick that even a heavy kick to the head would do no good. Veriasse considered the mouthfingers down beneath the mandibles. He might be able to crush its voice drum-which would have much the same effect as putting a hole in its lungs-but the mouthfingers were too close to those heavy mandibles.
There were only a few places he could strike with much effect. The air holes on the thighs were one target. The wings were another. The sensor whips were a third. Yet he looked at the huge lord, a consummate warrior, and he despaired of winning this battle. Dinnid was too powerful.
Veriasse backed away a step, gasping for air, and caught a sweet scent of flowers. He laughed as he realized that Everynne had opened the bottle of Hope he had received on Cyannesse. An adrenaline surge poured through him, filling him with light. And then Veriasse considered ways to use the dronon’s own power against it.
Dinnid stalked closer, and Veriasse jumped forward and shouted, causing the monster to swing both battle arms down, slamming into the metal floor. Veriasse leapt, kicked Dinnid’s voice drum. His foot connected with a sharp thud. Dinnid raised his battle arms protectively, hitting Veriasse in midair, knocking him away.
Even that minor touch was too much.
Veriasse hit the floor on his back. Some ribs cracked on impact. For a moment, he lay gasping in pain, unable to move. Dinnid swung his head from side to side, biting down with his mandibles in case Veriasse tried to kick his voice drum again.
Veriasse didn’t move, didn’t stir a muscle, forced himself to still his breathing. Lord Dinnid was so fond of pointing out the weaknesses of the human’s soft body that Veriasse decided to let the creature think he’d done some damage.
Dinnid shouted, “Human? Human?” His voice garbled. Of the dozens of voice fingers under Dinnid’s mandibles, half were crushed.
Veriasse didn’t answer, and the dronon decided that now was his opportunity to strike. He leapt forward, waving his sensor whip and chopping down with his right battle leg. In that moment, Veriasse leapt up, grabbed the sensor whip, and pulled it in front of the swinging leg.
The serrated chitin of the foreleg sliced through the whip. Dinnid groaned in pain, spun away so that his back eye was on Veriasse, then buzzed his wings, lifted off in flight.
Veriasse picked up the sensor whip. It was over two meters long and very heavy. Veriasse snapped it overhead as if it were a bullwhip, cracking the air. Everywhere, the dronon in the audience hummed in disapproval.
Veriasse imagined how he would feel if a dronon were to pull the leg off a human and use it as a weapon. He imagined how it would anger him and hoped that Dinnid too would be appalled. Perhaps it would break his concentration. Dinnid buzzed forward, hit the far wall and fell. He turned, leapt into the air again and rushed toward Veriasse. Veriasse cracked the sensor whip, and Dinnid veered toward him.
Veriasse crouched low, and Dinnid swooped over. Veriasse dodged and swung the whip with deadly ferocity, hoping to get the creature’s back leg. Instead, the whip cracked against the stub of Dinnid’s damaged sensor. The dronon flapped his wings so rapidly that they buzzed, creating a keening that was the equivalent of a dronon scream of pain. He doubled his speed and crashed into the far wall with a tremendous smack.
Dinnid fell to the ground, tried to get up, but his legs wobbled. He turned in a semicircle as if dazed, and Veriasse watched in horror. Dinnid’s skull had cracked. White ooze seeped from the wound.