“That must be the bastard that killed DJ,” said Edgar.
“His name’s Javier,” Magnolia replied.
The Cazador holding the chain pulled hard, forcing Javier to his knees. Now Michael could see that he wore a loincloth.
General Santiago held up a hand, silencing the chanting and the beat of spear shafts. X and Rhino climbed to the top of the upper platform, where the general waited for them.
“Well, this ought to be good,” Magnolia said.
Michael let out a sigh. “What in the wastes are you doing now, old man?”
* * * * *
The last time X had seen a Cazador company this big, he was part of it and heading out on a monster-hunting mission. But he was no longer a slave. He was their king, and he was hiding a terrible secret about the fate of another Cazador company.
The paranoid part of his brain wondered whether Santiago, now standing beside him, suspected his people of having something to do with those deaths. But his gut told him the old general didn’t know shit.
What X did know beyond a doubt was that the warriors on the deck below him wanted blood. He could smell it as surely as a Siren could smell fresh meat.
More Cazadores filed onto the deck as he waited to address them. Carmela, wearing her battle armor and feathers in her braided hair, led a group of them. Her annoying parrot, Kotchee, perched on an armored shoulder pad.
Six Praetorian Guards flanked the Black Order. Next came Imulah, leading a group of scribes in brown robes. Finally, a Cazador accountant in a faded green suit walked onto the deck, carrying a clipboard under his arm. He put on his spectacles and began to count heads while the scribes began recording what they witnessed today.
Imulah joined X, General Santiago, and General Rhino on the top deck while everyone else, including the militia, remained below.
“I am here to interpret, my king,” Imulah said, bowing slightly.
Rhino moved out of the way so the scribe could stand beside X.
X raised his hands in the air. “I stand before you tonight to discuss several things,” he said. “First, my sincerest condolences for the loss of the Lion and her crew. I know what it’s like to lose warriors in battle, and tonight I join you in mourning those men and women.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie, although his heart didn’t feel the loss the way it did when sky people died. Ada was right about one thing: the Cazadores on that ship had indeed been part of the crew who killed Katrina. And that was exactly why he had decided to keep it a secret—not only to save Ada’s life, but also to keep the islands at peace.
What he had to do now was extend a peace offering that would also distract them.
When Imulah had finished interpreting his words, X said, “Second, I’m offering Javier a chance at redemption for murdering a sky engineer.”
X gestured to the guards holding the Cazador mechanic on the deck below. They got him to his feet and brought him forward.
Imulah finished interpreting, and X continued with his speech.
“General Santiago has requested that I reopen the Sky Arena, and that is exactly what I’m going to do tonight. I’ve already made the arrangements with Colonel Moreto, who has put together a lineup.”
When Imulah translated this, cheers rang out from the assembled ranks.
“You want your human sacrifice for the Octopus Lords?” X shouted.
Imulah spoke, and the warriors all shouted their response.
“¡Sí!”
“You’re going to have several by the end of the night!” X yelled. He pointed to Javier, who stood below. One of the guards kicked him to his knees, where he remained, head bowed.
Every Cazador on the deck raised his weapon in the air, chanting something about the Sky Arena.
Well, that was easy.
He had come here to appease the Cazadores and divert their attention from the loss of the Lion and its crew. That goal was now accomplished, but he still had to rally them for their mission to the wastes.
X held up his hands again to silence the crowd. When the chanting had died down, he lowered his hands, and the two soldiers led the murderer away.
“In a few hours, you will depart for an old-world city, Rio de Janeiro,” X said. “For the first time ever, Cazadores and sky people will fight together on a mission to protect what is left of humanity.”
Imulah relayed the words. This time, there was no chanting, no raised weapons. Not even a single shout.
“This mission is long and dangerous,” X continued. “Star Grazer will first stop to refuel at outpost Bloodline in Venezuela. Then it will proceed south to Rio de Janeiro, where warriors will begin the first part of the mission: to seek out and destroy any machines there.”
This time, Imulah’s words met with a few grunts.
“Second, we are searching for survivors we believe to be hiding in an underground bunker or shelter of some sort,” X said. “When we find them, we will evacuate them and bring them here.”
He waited anxiously to hear what these men and women thought of that idea. In the past, el Pulpo would have ordered his army to enslave the survivors and, in some cases, eat them.
But things were vastly different now that X was in charge.
After Imulah finished translating the second part of their mission, some warriors exchanged glances and talked in hushed voices. X could tell right away they weren’t excited about the prospect of saving people. To them, it just meant more mouths to feed.
“We must do this to help replenish our ranks,” X said. “To help rebuild the great Cazador army so we can meet the challenges and threats of the future.”
Imulah again relayed the words. This time, several Cazador warriors nodded, and one raised his rifle in the air.
“We crush the metal gods!” Santiago yelled in broken English, pounding his armored chest.
The warriors raised their weapons to their general and gave a loud grunt in unison.
X’s work was done. He had baited the hook, and the Cazadores had responded well to the reopening of the Sky Arena, and the idea of adding warriors to their ranks.
Over the noise, he heard the engine of Discovery activate with a loud vroom. Timothy was testing the engines, which meant the ship was nearly ready for takeoff.
X looked up again at the rooftop, where he could see the smooth back of the airship. He couldn’t see the Sea Wolf, but he knew she was already attached to the underside—by the same cables that had dropped the container of Cazadores into the ocean.
He swallowed hard at the thought.
But it was the thoughts that followed, the memories of his crazed years trekking through the wastes, that gripped him hardest.
He suddenly felt alone, far away from his home and his people. His people were setting out on a mission to the wastes, and he wanted so badly to join them, he could taste it.
He stepped away from the railing, ready to return to the rooftop so he could help with any last-minute issues, and so he could spend some time with Michael and Magnolia.
To his surprise, General Santiago reached out and gripped him by the forearm—the handshake of a Cazador warrior.
“Very good, King Xavier,” Santiago said.
“Gracias,” X replied. He nodded to Rhino that it was time to leave, and they went back down to the lower deck. Every face seemed to focus on the two men as they departed.
The Cazadores began to chant again. This time, they were saying something that X didn’t understand at all.
“What are they saying?” he asked Rhino.
“All hail the Immortal,” Rhino said.
X scratched his growing beard, not knowing how to respond.
“Most of them think you’re a god,” Rhino added. “But I’m pretty sure some of them would still love to kill you.”
TEN
The capitol tower wa
s alive with activity tonight. The Cazadores and the sky people had finished preparations for their dual mission to the wastes. But it wasn’t just warriors and Hell Divers that had gathered. Cazador citizens from other oil rigs had boated over to the rooftop to catch the first fights in the Sky Arena since the sky people won the battle for the islands.
Rhino had the honor of fighting in the main event. But he wasn’t thinking about that. His mind and heart were with Sofia, standing beside him in front of the airship. She helped tighten the leather guards on his wrists—the only protection he wore tonight.
“You sure you don’t want your battle armor?” she asked.
“No need,” he said. “Javier may have fought in the army, but I don’t need armor to best him in battle.”
“Don’t get cocky,” Sofia said. “You still haven’t recovered from the fight against el Pulpo.”
She pulled the strap tighter.
“Javier is not el Pulpo, and that’s too tight.”
Sofia loosened the strap.
“Good,” he said.
She went back to work on the other strap. “I know he’s not, but you can’t let your guard down for a second in there.”
“I never let my guard down with any enemy.”
As she moved to the next strap, he gazed at the dark eyes, long black braids, and dexterous, knowing fingers.
God, you are beautiful.
She finished with the straps and stepped away, hands on her hips. “Good?”
“Perfect.”
Sofia picked her helmet up off the dirt and took a moment to look him over.
“I better not catch wind of any other ladies lookin’ at you while I’m gone, or there will be hell to pay when I get back.”
“Almost ready, Sofia?” Magnolia called out, passing them by with a basket of fruit.
“Be right there,” Sofia said, not taking her eyes off Rhino.
He laid his hand on her dimpled cheek. “I love you, my queen. Please, be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. You’re the one I need to worry about, back here with that madman.” Sofia glanced at X, who was eating an apple and talking to Michael inside the dark launch bay. Miles sat by his master’s side, looking down at Rhino.
“X is one of the best I ever met,” he said.
“Yeah, well, he’s still crazy. Maybe not el Pulpo crazy, but bat-shit nonetheless.”
Rhino chuckled. “I suppose we all are, in one way or another, aren’t we?”
She looked past him to the Sky Arena, where hundreds of Cazadores were starting to take their seats.
“I’m glad I won’t have to watch you gut Javier,” Sofia said. “But he does deserve it.”
Rhino could think of someone else who deserved to die: Lieutenant Ada Winslow. But his duty was to the king, and Xavier had told him to keep it a secret—one that he had kept even from his woman.
A horn sounded from the arena—the first notice of the impending fights.
“Te quiero,” Sofia said.
“I love you, too.”
He kissed her goodbye, and she hefted her duffel and started up the ramp.
Inside Discovery’s launch bay, Rhino could see X hand Michael a handgun. Then he gave the young man a hug. X embraced Magnolia next. When they parted, she hunched down to Miles, who licked her face.
She stood and waved at Rhino. “I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry.”
“You better.”
Rhino picked up his spear and stepped to the platform. Ton and Victor crossed their spears in an X, blocking his way.
“It’s okay,” said Lieutenant Sloan.
Both former prisoners of the Cazadores hesitated, but not for lack of understanding. Victor knew what she had said.
“Let him through,” Sloan added.
They pulled their spears back upright.
Sloan’s lazy eye wandered Rhino’s way, and she grumbled something.
“Good luck, and dive safely!” X said as he walked down the platform. “I’ll see you all soon.”
Miles barked once, tail thumping.
In the open launch bay, the divers looked stoically out—no waving or departing words. Even Sofia kept her arms at her sides, but her eyes were on Rhino.
His heart thumped as the launch-bay doors closed. He had always longed to be with Sofia, and now that he finally could, they were once again pulled apart by the realities of war.
“You ready for this?” X asked.
“Always ready for a fight,” Rhino replied. “But I’m afraid this won’t be much of one.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.”
X set off with Miles running ahead.
“Move it, lug,” Sloan said, elbowing Rhino in the biceps. She cracked a sly grin that made him wonder whether she was flirting with him. The gruff woman would have made a good Cazador like Wendig.
“Ton, Victor, with me,” Sloan said, gesturing for them to follow. They ran to catch up, eager to protect their king.
Hundreds of Cazadores stood in the stands around the recessed stadium while more streamed in through the heavily guarded access door. They wore their best clothing and jewelry to watch once again the spilling of blood on sacred ground.
Unlike the other Cazadores, Rhino hated the Sky Arena. Even when he was a younger man, the cheers and bloodlust had felt unnatural. Fighting the monsters in the wastes was one thing, but he had never enjoyed taking another human life.
As a child living underground, he had learned to value life as a precious gift. But living on the islands had taught him that life here was anything but precious. Here, they glorified death. He would perform his duty tonight, but he would not enjoy it.
He closed in with the other soldiers to form a phalanx around the king. Here, with so many Cazadores who had lost loved ones, X had security threats aplenty.
Families stopped to look, some baring their sharpened teeth in a show of respect. A man bent down next to his four-year-old daughter and pointed at X, whispering something to her that made her smile.
Rhino scanned for threats and moved into the elevated booth from which el Pulpo had watched the battles during his reign. Sergeant Wynn was already there.
“Area is secure, King Xavier,” said the brawny soldier, pulling back a drape to the booth. Today, there were no slaves serving wine, broiled chicken, or skewered shrimp. Just two boys and a woman Rhino didn’t recognize, but judging by their fair skin and their clothing, they were sky people.
X spoke to them quietly and gestured toward Rhino. “General, this is Mallory and her sons, Rhett and Keith.”
Rhino didn’t need to ask who they were. Both boys and their mother had swollen eyes from crying.
“Tonight, they will watch you kill the man who killed their father,” X said.
Rhino walked into the booth and stopped in front of the kids. The oldest couldn't be much past puberty, the youngest nine or ten. Skinny boys with long, wild hair.
“I will avenge your father,” Rhino said.
A second horn silenced the crowd in the recessed stadium. Everyone stood and looked down at Jackal, the announcer, with his spiked hair and thick, curled mustache. He wore his trademark faded blue pants and bloodred shirt. In one hand, he carried a megaphone; in the other, a handgun.
Rhino couldn’t stand the guy, but the crowd roared as he strutted to the center of the stadium. He brought the megaphone to his mouth. “¡Buenas tardes, señoras y señores!” he yelled. “¿Están listos para ver un poco de sangre?”
The stadium erupted in clacking teeth and excited screams.
Jackal pumped the megaphone into the air and brought a hand to his ear. “I can’t hear you!”
The audience yelled louder as Jackal raised both arms higher and higher.
But not everyone in the arena shared the exuberance. Mallory stared bla
nkly downward, and her boys watched the spectacle with the same hatred in their eyes that Rhino saw in the gazes of some Cazadores who looked up at the booth and their new king. It was a look he had seen on the deck of the training ship Elysium when X first went there to meet the youngster warriors.
“Since you all have been starved of blood, Colonel Moreto has decided to quench your thirst,” Jackal said. “Tonight, Warthog comes out of retirement to deal with two thieves we caught stealing fish.”
Rhino looked across the arena at another booth reserved for nobility. Inside stood Councilman Tomás Mata with several other wealthy merchants. They huddled in the shade of an awning, drinking wine and smoking cigarettes.
In the next booth was Carmela, with her parrot on her shoulder. She waved to the crowd and then gestured down to a gate.
“Here comes Warthog!” Jackal yelled.
Rhino hadn’t seen the warrior fight for almost two years. The sixty-year-old former soldier, who had fought under the leadership of el Pulpo, had gone into retirement after a long and impressive career in the army and as a gladiator.
The last Rhino heard, he was living on a fishing boat.
Warthog ducked under the gate and strode out wearing a helmet topped with the spiked crest of a bone beast—the same monster that had killed Whale and Fuego in the wastes before Wendig finally brought it down. Only a handful of the nightmarish things had ever been killed.
Warthog wore the trophy and carried the spear that had killed it in the wastes twenty years ago. It was also the reason for his nickname—the bone beast had clawed off half his nose in the battle, leaving him with a porcine snout.
Hollers and clicking teeth greeted the warrior. Jackal scampered away and climbed a ladder to the stands while two gaunt, half-naked Cazadores were shoved out onto the dirt. Though the men had some military training, they were still fishermen, and a far cry from skilled warriors.
The thinner and older of the two turned and tried to run back into the gate before it closed. A Cazador standing guard kicked him to the dirt. Laughter rang out from the stands.
The man brushed his long gray hair from his face and looked around, disoriented. He got up and stumbled over to pick up a sword that a warrior had tossed down. The other prisoner picked up a second rusty blade.
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