Ara turns to me. Pellucid green eyes plead with me for answers I don’t have, for help and safety I can’t offer at the moment. I’m frightened, possibly more frightened than I’ve ever been before. My insides shake in time with the walls surrounding me and my legs feel as if they won’t hold me up. Kohl places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it firmly. I don’t know whether he’s trying to tell me he’s scared or convey comfort and strength. I don’t know anything at the moment, in fact. The area before me swirls and tilts violently before a shrill cry from beyond the walls stills everything, including the beat of my heart. I freeze then spin and lock eyes with Kohl. A faint flicker of fear flashes in his gaze. I can’t recall the last time I saw it. If ever. A sinking feeling clutches at my chest with barbed tentacles, tugging my lungs to my feet. Automatically, my arm rockets out and pushes Ara behind me. I want to protect her. Though deep in my bones I suspect I can’t. Kohl steps in front of Pike and assumes a position beside me. Maxx lowers his stance, as if bracing for impact, and the two girls hug each other sobbing softly.
“Get in there now, scum!” The Urthman behind us bellows and begins shoving us inside. Once we’re all in, he slams the cage door shut and locks it with just us inside. Standing close to one another, our frantic breaths are labored. In unison, they’re fear personified.
Swallowing hard, I breathe, “Oh no.” My pulse is hammering so hard it pounds the side of my throat. “Where are we? What’s happening?” I scream. My voice is foreign to my own ears. It echoes the utter panic I feel.
“Shut up, human!” the Urthman who locked the gate booms. “You’ll find out soon enough!” He cackles then points to a rack with weapons hanging from it. I see swords, mallets, clubs, daggers and an array of deadly-looking objects.
“Why are we here? What’s happening?” I ask. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my life.
None of the Urhmen respond. They back away and head back down the tunnel. Only three remain with us, each holding a bow and arrow. One enters with us.
Noise ebbs and flows like a tide lapping against a shoreline all around us. The cause of it remains unknown.
Kohl nudges me. His shoulder brushes mine and he looks at me. “This is gonna be bad, really bad,” he shouts over the rumbling.
“I know,” I yell back to him.
“What’s happening?” Ara claps her hands over her ears. Her eyes are wild and color has drained from her complexion.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly.
As soon as the words leave my lips, the door in front of us falls open, taking the far wall of our cage with it. Bright light blinds us. I squint and raise a trembling hand to my brow.
“Out now!” one of the Urthmen armed with a bow and arrow barks. “You, you and you!” He points to Maxx, Calyx and Acacia.
“What? Where are we?” Maxx asks and knows fully that he won’t receive an answer.
“You three, go!” he shouts. I glance over my shoulder, and immediately see that arrows are pulled taut in their bows. The Urthman absently grabs three weapons and thrusts them at Maxx and the girls. “Out now, or we’ll fire and kill you where you stand!” he roars a final time.
Maxx’s body lurches into action. He stumbles but regains his footing quickly. His movement spawns a plume of dusty particles to kick up. When the cloud clears, I realize he’s standing on pale sand. The light-colored sand and the intense brightness distort my perception. But I’m able to see Maxx and the two girls. The girls instantly scramble and move closer to Maxx. His head sweeps left then right, and his jaw drops at the same time as mine.
A roar erupts all around me, the same roar I heard in the tunnel, only much louder. The sound is earsplitting. And now I see the source of it. Tiers of seats begin at ground level and rise high into the sky. Urthmen fill the benches, though most are on their feet shouting, stomping, pumping their fists, and flailing animatedly. There must be thousands of them. And their attention turns to Maxx and the girls. They’ve entered an arena. The roar, the screaming and chanting, all of it is for them. The crowd is calling for their blood to be spilled. They are calling for their death. For all of our deaths.
Out, in the sand, I see bodies strewn, bright red haloing them. Their faces are familiar. Four of them. They’re kids from our camp. People we traveled through the forest with and saw not long ago. An Urthman exits from a doorway across from us. He grips one by his feet and drags one of my people, a boy named Ash, across the space. Three others repeat the process with the remaining three humans who lay slain in the sand. Not one of them was a day over twelve. My stomach roils before bottoming out completely. Then a sight that shocks me even more than the dead villagers grips me. In the distance, I see three male humans. Clad with metal wrist plates, fancy cloths draped at their waist and shiny swords dripping with blood, they are muscular and well fed. They heft their weapons high overhead, causing the crowd to jump to their feet and thunderous applause explodes.
Humans murdered other humans. I never thought such a thing could occur.
The sight, the reality of it lands like a ham-fisted punch to my gut.
Within seconds, three more are thrust inside. Three more are shoved in from the arched entrance from which the Urthman exited. Teenagers, all of them, they are boys I know well: Milo, Josh and Dane. They each hold clubs. None of them are used to swinging one. “Oh no,” I breathe as air whooshes from my lungs. I’m about to rage at what I see when out among the crowd, a large Urthman draped in a bright red cloak rises to his feet. Rolls of fat strain against a tight, silky looking top around his midsection. His legs are as thick as my two together. His movement is graceless, but at sight of him standing, the entire crowd goes silent. A white bundle of curls is perched precariously atop his head. He claps hands with pudgy fingers and when he does, the hair slides to one side and blubbery, tube-like lips jiggle. The crowd erupts once again, cheering and screaming. The humans with the bloody swords pump their arms. They yell so loudly veins in their necks protrude and their muscles flex. The crowd responds with violent, fevered energy and they feed off it, charging Milo, Josh and Dane. One picks up an object at his feet first, a spiked ball attached to a length of chain. He swings it when he is three arm’s lengths away. The chain wraps around Milo’s neck, pulling him to the ground. The other two murderous humans descend on him while he’s down, ripping the club from his hand and smashing it into his skull again and again. Garnet pools around his head. They leave him there and turn to the others.
Seeing Milo die, Maxx glances over his shoulder at Calyx and Acacia. They cry unabashedly, and understandably so. I want to cry too. Josh’s throat is slashed and Dane’s skull is crushed with the spiked ball. Their deaths are barbaric. Their bodies dragged out of the arena unceremoniously.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Kohl says. He can’t hide the horror and upset in his voice, and a single tear slips from his eye. “I can’t believe it.”
“Oh my gosh,” Ara cries and covers her mouth. “They killed Milo, Josh and Dane! Humans murdered other humans. And they’re celebrating.”
Milo, Josh and Dane are dead. Boys all of us knew. I’m stunned. Speechless. The large Urthman wearing the bright-red cloak rises to his feet. Once again, at his movement, the entire crowd goes silent. His white curls are still sliding to one side, becoming more lopsided when he claps hands. The roar of the bloodthirsty crowd resumes.
“You three, move!” the Urthman with his bow and arrow trained on Maxx, Calyx and Acacia shouts. They freeze. “Go!” he yells again and pulls his bowstring taut.
Maxx looks over his shoulder at me. His complexion is snow white and his eyes shine with unshed tears. He knows his fate awaits him across the field of sand. Death. And a savage one at that. Fluid drips down his leg as fear and panic overtakes him. He doesn’t say a word, though. Instead, he walks on legs that tremble visibly into the arena. A wave of deafening cheers breaks out. My eyes scan the space. Scarlet puddles and smears stain pale sand. Maxx advances a few steps with
Calyx and Acacia in tow. They look so small. I can’t believe any of this is happening. Not what happened at our camp, or along the way, and what’s happening now. The area around me spins. Sweat coats my skin and air refuses to enter my lungs. I heave twice before I’m sick all over the ground. My parents were murdered right before my eyes. Milo, Josh and Dane were, too. And now my cousin, Maxx and two little girls from my village, who I watched grow up, are being forced into a battle they can’t possibly win.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. The roar of the crowd is unbearable. The humans who killed Milo, Josh and Dane draw close and circle Maxx. Calyx and Acacia hang back a bit. Armed now with two swords, the largest man steps to Maxx. His forearm bears a snake marking, the muscles in it bulging and flexing as he parades around, twirling his weapons in each hand. Entertaining the crowd. Without warning, he lunges forward. Maxx swipes his club and shockingly, one blade tumbles from his hand. Maxx scoops it up and acts quickly, slashing the air and opening his arm. The murdering human stops to look at his wound, shakes his head then with lightning-fast reflexes he strikes, attacking Maxx with his sword. He steps forward, stabbing at the ether first before swiping left then right. Impressively, Maxx blocks each of them, using both hands, one clutching a club and the other a sword. Hope stirs within me. I watch as my cousin, at least a head shorter than the man he battles, deflects blow after blow. The crowd quiets, wondering why a small, male human is staving off one who’s killed six others with ease. But he does. Maxx turns and sidesteps, averting his opponent’s sword and preventing injury for several minutes. I lean forward, screaming to him in my head and willing him to fight. Maxx takes a swipe and leaves his side unguarded, however, and his misstep isn’t lost on his opponent. The large human capitalizes on it and slices him from his armpit to his hip. Maxx cries out and his sword falls from his hand. The man attacks, hefting his sword overhead and chopping at Maxx. Maxx tries to protect himself with his club but is overpowered. He collapses to his knees, still trying feebly to protect himself with his weapon. Blood seeps from his wound, saturating his shirt and dripping down his pants. Within seconds, his club is knocked from his hand and he’s left defenseless. The large human throws his hands in the air, inciting the crowd. The crowd responds by chanting “Kill him! Kill him!” The unified voice drowns out any other sounds, especially Maxx’s voice. I see his lips moving but his words are swallowed by the shouts. The man lowers his arms and grips his sword with two hands. Maxx holds his wound with one hand and raises the other, palm out as if asking for mercy. The man smiles viciously before swinging his weapon horizontally.
“Noooooo!” I cry, the sound absorbed by the crazed, bloodthirsty cheers of the crowd. I squeeze my eyes shut just as the blade meets with the side of Maxx’s neck and hacks off his head. I hear Pike and Ara cry out as well. I open my eyes and see Kohl’s fists balled so tightly his knuckles blanch, but close them again when I see all three men descend upon Calyx and Acacia. Wild cheers shake the walls. Kohl releases a guttural cry I hear above it. My eyes snap open. I watch as Maxx, Calyx and Acacia’s lifeless bodies are dragged out of the arena.
The Urthman behind us laughs. “Time to die, scum,” he barks at us.
Kohl doesn’t wait to be ordered out. He grabs a deadly looking mallet from the rack and storms out, eager, it seems, to battle. I follow his lead and choose a sword. Pike and Ara do the same. “Stay behind us!” I order them. They both nod nervously and follow me out onto the sand.
Not wasting a second or waiting for Prince Cadogan, he rushes headlong toward the man who swung the spiked ball. The man swings and releases it, the length of chain following. Kohl does not duck or try to dodge it. Instead, he watches it until the final second and as my heart makes its way to my throat, and raises his mallet just as the ball narrowly misses skimming his head and wrapping around the mallet. He yanks the weapon, which causes the man wielding it to tumble forward. Kohl charges him, and before he can get up, smashes his chin with the mallet. The man howls out in agony and falls to his side. Kohl smashes him again and again. Venting his rage. Unrelenting.
A hush befalls the crowd.
Kohl stands over the human he just killed, chest heaving and eyes wild. “You kill your own!” He spits on the corpse. “You kill your own kind!”
I’ve never seen my brother so angry. Rage has overtaken him. Consumed him. He turns away from the man he slayed. He looks as dangerous as any man I’ve ever seen. I feed off his anger, off his energy. I grip the hilt of my sword as tightly as I can. My upper lip curls over my teeth and every muscle in my body tenses like a coiled snake. I stalk toward the man closest to me intent upon engaging him in battle. And defeating him. I blink and see my cousin Maxx struck down by his blade. His head removed. With a war cry I swing my sword. Blades collide. We spar until he leaves himself exposed. It’s only a split second. But I see it as if it’s ringed in yellow. His midsection. Wide open. I lunge forward with all my might and drive my sword into his stomach. The crowd gasps and his eyes grow wide. He looks down at the blade, buried to its hilt, and his lips part on a silent scream. My heart races. Blood pounds against my skin. I’ve taken a human life, an act I never thought I’d perform. For a moment, the chaotic world around me falls silent. The gravity of what’s happened and is happening settles. Then in the space of a breath, sound returns, exploding all around me, and I turn to help Kohl. But I see him crushing the skull of the final man who lies on the ground and realize he doesn’t need me. Boos and jeers lead to near-silent murmurs. The rotund Urthman with the red cape and blubbery lips rises slowly. The murmurs cease. The collective audience holds its breath. He looks all around him, scanning the crowd first then the sand covered battleground. His face is unreadable. He lifts his chubby hands to chest height then places them together, clapping. When he does, the entire arena begins cheering. Feverish applause, whistling and hollers of appreciation erupt. I’m left standing, looking up at all of them. Shocked and confused beyond words, I have no idea what’s happening. All I know is that we’re alive. At least for the moment.
Chapter 8
The roar of the crowd echoes down a long narrow tunnel that transforms from smooth, curved walls to craggy rocks that jut out unevenly, narrowing the space even further. Ordinarily, the sense of confinement would cause my heart rate to spike and dizziness to settle over me. But this time it doesn’t. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. I feel no physical pain. I feel little fear. Every cell in my body feels as though it’s buzzing and humming frenetically.
I’m not sure what happened to the rest of the younger members of our village. I assume they were led to the arena as we were. I doubt they fared as well, a thought that makes my empty stomach churn. I look ahead at the Urthman leading us and fantasize about sneaking up behind him and using my shackles to strangle him. If I thought I could get away with it without my sister and brothers incurring the wrath of my actions, I’d do it now. But I know better. I don’t dare act on impulse. I can only hope that I live to see the moment present itself when I can.
With that in mind, I follow him, feeling the adrenaline seep from my veins slowly, until we reach the end of the tunnel. Without warning, two Urthmen from the rear grab Ara and unchain her. She’s shoved into a cell without us.
“Hey!” I shout at the Urthmen. “Hey, what’re you doing with her? She stays with us!”
“Ara!” Kohl yells.
“Shut up, scum!” one of the Urthmen who handled Ara orders me. He shoves me and I stumble, regaining my footing after several clumsy steps. My blood boils. “Move, humans.” He urges us forward by shoving us with his club held diagonally across his body. Chained together tighter this time after seeing us kill three in the arena, an additional chain has been added to our waists. Several steps further, we’re instructed to stop. We stand before a solid door that’s locked at the bottom, much like the one we entered through at the rear of the truck that transported us to this place of horrors. It’s beside Ara’s cell, and bars separate the two. I can s
ee her. That’s the only reason I haven’t begun screaming and resisting every step I take. Not that it would solve anything. To the contrary, it would make matters much worse.
We are unchained and the Urthman that led us glares at us. “If any trouble is started in here, you will suffer, is that clear?”
I look around. About twenty other humans are in the cell with us, all male. On the other side of the bars, roughly the same amount of females resides.
“Why can’t our sister stay with us?” I demand.
The Urthman jabs a meaty finger at my chest. “There’s no mixing of humans!” he barks. “You think we’d allow you disgusting animals to create more of your kind without authorization?”
Pike looks bewildered by the Urthman’s statement. “What does that mean?” he asks.
Kohl and I exchange glances. We understand what the Urthman means. But now is not the time to explain it to Pike.
The Urthman promptly turns on his heels and leaves, lowering and locking the cell door behind him. I turn and look around. None of the other humans make eye contact. Their gazes are distant and unfocused, their expressions blank.
“What’s happening here?” Kohl calls out to anyone among them, men who range in age from seventeen to probably their mid-twenties.
His question is met with staunch silence.
Several seconds pass, the air laden with tension so thick it could be carved with a sword, then finally, from the corner, a deep voice echoes. A mountain of a man with skin the color of rich, fertile soil sits with his legs out in front of him, his back against a wall. “What do you think is happening here?” The bass of his voice sets the fine hairs on the back of my neck on end. “We wait for our time to die.”
“Wait?” I can’t help but ask.
“Just as I know my name is Kai, I’m sure the day will come. We fight like hell to prevent it from happening,” the man says.
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