by Moira Young
There’s a shout. Make way fer the King! Make way!
My innards lurch. My mouth goes dry. I go over to the door of my cell. Press myself aginst the bars so’s I can see better.
Twelve Tonton with torches run in, pushin the cellblock guards outta the way. They line theirselves up along the length of the cellblock. They lift their torches to light a path.
A man steps through the door.
I don’t believe it. It’s the man from Rooster Pinch’s book. He stands in the doorway with his walkin stick. Jest like the picture in the book. Thick black curly hair down past his shoulders an piled high on top. Animal skins thrown over one shoulder, trailin behind him onto the floor. Fancy shirt with frilly collar an cuffs. Short, puffy little britches that show his legs. White stockins. High heeled shoes. Sword at his side.
His face is painted white. His mouth’s painted red, like one of the Hopetown whores.
What was it Rooster called him? Lewis Ex Eye Vee. The Sun King of France. Dead fer hunnerds of years, he said. So it cain’t really be him. It’s somebody who looks like him.
He starts to walk down the cellblock, head high. He takes tiny steps, like his shoes is too tight. He’s holdin a white lace keercheef to his nose.
The fighters in the big cage next to me, they’re all doin like I am, crowdin up to the bars of their cell to git a good look at him.
The Tonton bow their heads. Your Majesty, each one murmurs as he goes past.
A man follows a little ways behind him. It’s DeMalo. My heart clutches. No. Please. Not him. Right away, my body goes all tight.
After DeMalo, comes Miz Pinch. What the hell’s she doin here?
Suddenly I realize. They’re comin straight down the cellblock. Straight towards me. I scramble back onto my cot. Push myself into the corner. Feel the cold stone of the wall through my thin tunic.
The King’s here. The one who’s got Lugh. Maybe he’s here to take me. Maybe they caught Maev. Somehow found out our plan.
Don’t say a word. Don’t give nuthin away. Don’t look at DeMalo.
The King stops in front of my cell. DeMalo stands jest behind him, in the shadows. My heart’s bangin in my chest so loud, they must be able to hear it.
Miz Pinch rushes past DeMalo. She grabs hold of my cell bars an shakes ’em. I know she wishes she was shakin my neck.
What was that? she shrieks. What d’you call that?
I says naught. Keep my head down.
You threw that fight! she spits. You might be able to fool them chaaled-up morons, but you don’t fool me. You threw it an I wanna know why.
Calm yourself, woman. The King’s got a voice like a mouth full of damp earth.
A shudder ripples along my spine.
But I know her, son, says Miz Pinch. Vicar, I know this one! She’s the—
His arms fly up. He smashes her in the face with his walkin stick.
She cries out. She stumbles, grabs onto the cell bars to keep from fallin. She crouches on the ground. Her lip’s split open. She looks old. Frightened.
I cain’t hardly believe it. Miz Pinch, the mother of this man.
The mother of the King. Vicar Pinch. But it all makes sense. The picture in Rooster’s book. The way Vicar Pinch looks. Why Rooster Pinch lied when I asked him if he had any kids.
How do you address your King? says Vicar Pinch.
She don’t speak. Jest cowers there.
Then he screams it, spit flyin from his mouth. How do you address your King?
Yer … Yer Majesty, she says. I address my King as Yer Majesty.
If you forget again, he says, he will have you killed. Do you understand?
She nods her head, grabs a corner of his robe and kisses it. Yes, she whispers. All I wanna do is please … Yer Majesty. It’s all I ever wanted.
He kicks her hand away. Do not dare to touch your King! he says. Now. What were you saying about this girl?
Yer Majesty, I only said that … that I know her, Yer Majesty. She ain’t like the rest. Her spirit’s too strong to let her be beat. She lost today because she wanted to lose. She’s a sly one. She’s up to somethin.
Miz Pinch glares hate at me.
Enough! He waves his keercheef an she scuttles off into a dark corner of the cellblock. The King will speak to her, says Vicar Pinch. This … Angel of Death.
DeMalo steps up to the cell. Come here, girl, he says. His Majesty wishes to speak to you.
It’s the first time I’ve heard his voice. It’s deep. Dark. Jest what I’d especk it to sound like.
Come, he says.
I git to my feet, real slow. I take a couple of steps. Stop.
Closer, he says.
I move. Then I’m right next to the cell bars. Right next to him. I don’t look up. But I feel him. The warmth of him. The cold of him.
Saba, I think I hear him whisper.
A strange weakness grips me. I sway towards him. Grab at the bars to stop myself.
Then he’s turnin away, he’s bowin to the King, he’s movin back into the shadows. Did he say my name? No … I must of imagined it.
Now Pinch steps up to my cell. His hands shoot out. Grab me through the bars. Grab me by the neck. His fingers is strong. They press on my windpipe. Jest enough to make it hard to breathe.
Is the woman right? he says. Did you deliberately lose that fight?
No! I says. I didn’t! I wouldn’t!
His fingers tighten. I grab his wrists. Struggle to git free. He’s too strong. I drag in air through my nose, frantic. He stinks like nuthin I ever smelled before. Sour, sweet, rotten … all at the same time.
Your King has made a long and arduous journey to see you fight, he says. The miraculous warrior they’re all talking about, the Angel of Death. He would be vastly displeased to find that he was being deceived.
I ain’t deceivin!
Last chance! Are you lying!
No! I gasp. Losin means death! Everybody knows that!
Indeed, he says. Why would you lose on purpose? Why would anyone? It makes no sense.
Suddenly he lets go. I fall to the ground, gaspin, holdin my throat where he pressed on it.
You’re imagining things, woman, he says to Miz Pinch. You’ve had a good run. She’s made you a small fortune. You’ll just have to find yourself another fighter once this one’s run the gauntlet.
I’m sure yer right, Yer Majesty, she says. Yer always right, you always know best. I shouldn’t of bothered you. I’m sorry fer wastin yer time, Yer Majesty.
Miz Pinch, a cowed dog at her master’s heels.
Slowly I git to my feet.
Wait!
Pinch grabs my wrist. Hauls me aginst the cell bars. He presses a cold finger on my cheekbone. Right on my birthmoon tattoo. He hisses in a breath.
What’s this? he says.
It’s a … tattoo, I says.
The King can see that. Where did you get it?
I think fast.
Where I come from, everybody’s got ’em, I says.
And where’s that? he says.
Out east, I says.
East, he says. I see.
He stares at me a long moment. His small, dead eyes so much like his mother’s. He lets me go. He steps back an holds the kercheef to his nose agin.
DeMalo, he says, the King will remove from this pestilent hole.
Majesty, says DeMalo an bows his head.
But not before I see it. The slight twitch of his lips. A flicker of somethin across his face.
He despises Vicar Pinch.
The Tonton bow the King out like they bowed him in. When they reach the cellblock door, DeMalo lets Pinch an his mother go through first.
Then he turns back to look at me.
My breath catches in my throat. I drop my head. I mustn’t meet his eyes. I don’t dare. Not even in the gloom of the cellblock.
I feel it when he leaves.
Somethin … lets go of me.
An I can breathe agin.
The word’s out.
>
The Angel of Death’s goin down.
Hopetown’s packed. The scum crawl out from whatever rock they live unner to be there, to bet on the next two fights. The Cage Master’s only takin primo Wrecker junk as bets—coins, glass beads, gold rings, silver chains … they bring what they got to him an he decides what it’s worth, if anythin.
Looks like the prospect of my death’s worth plenty. To him. To Miz Pinch. An to anybody in Hopetown with a flea-infested bed goin spare. Em tells me they’re rentin beds out by the hour, not the night.
Right now the Cage Master’s givin even odds on me or Epona to win.
He ain’t bin to see me since that first day. When he told me he didn’t care if I lived or died. It’s true. We’re all the same to him. We’re all the same to all of ’em who come to see us fight.
While I’m waitin to go into the Cage, I look up to the Cage Master’s balcony. He’s there, along with DeMalo an the King.
The King leans on the railin, starin down at me. He’s dressed all in red today.
My birthmoon tatoo bothered him, that’s fer certain. It makes me believe that Helen’s right, that he’s holdin Lugh prisoner at Freedom Fields. He must of noticed Lugh’s tattoo. I can only hope that he bought my story about how I came by mine.
I lose my fight, of course. That’s two fights down. One to go.
Tomorrow’s the day.
It’s him. Jack. Legs crossed at the ankle, arms crossed over his chest, leanin aginst a wall in a corner of the male fighters’ exercise yard. Starin at me.
When he sees me lookin at him, he pushes off from the wall an wanders over to the fence. Without my tellin ’em to, my feet start movin an all of a sudden I’m standin in front of him. His long hair’s gone now. Shaved off, like the rest of us.
Angel, angel, he says. He’s smilin an shakin his head. What’re you up to?
I dunno what yer talkin about, I says.
You don’t lose fights, he says. Not unless you want to, that is.
His silvery eyes flick over to where Epona’s standin, talkin to some of th’other girls.
I saw you talkin to yer friend th’other day, he says. Looked like a mighty innerestin conversation.
I dunno what you mean, I says. Heat’s startin to crawl all over my chest. The heartstone feels warm aginst my skin. The same thing that happened the last time I talked to him. I frown.
He shrugs. All right, he says. Don’t tell me. I’ll find out eventually.
You won’t find out nuthin, I says. Cuz there ain’t nuthin to find out.
Suddenly he’s got hold of my wrist. I didn’t even see him move. A tingle shoots up my arm. Like when Lugh an me was nearly hit by the lightnin that day.
The smile’s gone. His face looks dead serious. Looks to me like yer playin a dangerous game, he says.
Why should you care what I do?
We stare at each other a long moment. Then, No reason, he says. Jest … be careful, Angel. That’s all. He lets go of my wrist slowly. Almost like he don’t want to.
As I move away from him, the heartstone starts to cool down.
Darkness. Hard to see. Smoke fills the air. Burns my throat, my nostrils, stings my eyes.
Where are you? I scream.
No answer. Hungry flames lick at wood. Embers pop an hiss.
I hafta find him. Cain’t leave him here.
The sound of a heartbeat. My heartbeat. Over an over. So loud. It fills my brain, my head. I cover my ears with my hands. Panic grips me. I turn in circles, blind.
Where are you? I shout. Where are you?
Another voice now. Whisperin. Mercy’s voice.
The heartstone lets you know … the heartstone … heartstone … hurry, Saba …
Bright sun. Exercise yard. Epona smiles. We’re gonna burn Hopetown to the ground, she says.
I gotta find him. Before it’s too late.
Too late … too late … too late …
I wake, mutterin to myself. I’m soaked with sweat, my blanket twisted around my legs, my heart poundin in my chest.
That was a new one. I ain’t dreamed of fire before. An it warn’t Lugh I was searchin fer so frantic. I dunno who it was.
I do what I always do to chase the nightmares away. I sit on my cot, hug my knees to my chest an close my eyes.
I think of water. Clean, clear water. A lake. I dive in. It washes over me, around me. My tired body, my tattered soul, my heavy heart. As I swim, it washes me clean.
An so I make it through to another dawn.
The keeper opens the door. I step into the Cage fer the last time. My hands an legs feel far away, like they don’t belong to me. My stummick’s clenched into knots. My mouth’s dry.
I cain’t hear myself think fer the noise of the crowd. Them that couldn’t squeeze into the Colosseum fill the streets an sit on rooftops. Even if they cain’t see what’s goin on, they can hear the shouts an roars. One way or another, they all wanna be part of the Angel’s end. Of my end.
The chaal vendors is doin a roarin trade, strugglin through the crowds with big baskets of the dark green leaf balanced on their heads. They wanna git everybody hopped up fer the big finish.
The Cage Master’s on his balcony, all crammed with people dressed in their finest. I can see the Pinches there—Rooster an Miz Pinch pushed into a corner. Vicar Pinch, the King, is the center of attention. He sits on a fancy golden chair an everybody dances around him, offerin him cups of this an plates of that. He waves ’em all away with his lace kercheef an stares down at the Colosseum.
DeMalo stands nearby.
I hope Emmi’s safe. The Free Hawks said they’d look after her, but I won’t be happy till I see her fer myself.
I stare at the center aisle. It runs from the bottom of the Colosseum right to the top in a straight line.
The gauntlet run.
Maev’s in the front row on the center aisle. Right next to the gauntlet run. She gives me the tiniest nod. She looks behind her an then looks back at me.
Fer the first ten rows or so, there’s tough-lookin girls packed in at the ends of the rows, also right next to the gauntlet run.
I see a man try to push one of ’em outta the way. Tryin to steal her place along the gauntlet, to git closer to where the action’s gonna be. The girl don’t even look as she chops him in the throat with her elbow.
The Free Hawks is here. Jest like Maev promised.
Nero sits on the light tower that stands right next to the Cage. He cries out, over an over agin. He’s beside hisself with fear, I can tell. All of a sudden, he swoops down, lands on the Cage an slips in through the bars. He ain’t never done that the whole time I bin fightin.
He flutters down to sit on my shoulder. The whole place goes quiet. Even though I’m on a losin streak, they still believe I git my powers from him. Even fer this, my last fight, they ain’t bin able to sell the cheap seats on the light tower because he’s there.
He hops onto my hand. I rub his beak, scratch his head. He purrs in that way crows have, jest like a cat. I didn’t know how much I bin missin him till right now.
Okay, I whisper to him, good boy Nero. He leans his head to one side. Looks straight at me with his bright black eyes. It’s okay, I says. I’m gonna be okay.
He gives a croak. He knows what okay means. He unnerstands.
I lift my hand an he flies outta the Cage. Lands on his usual perch on the light tower. The crowd murmurs, mutters, shifts in their seats.
The Cage door creaks open agin an Epona walks in.
My heart’s bangin aginst my ribs. The blood pounds in my ears.
We face up. Eye to eye. Crouch down. The keeper sounds the gong.
My last fight begins.
I let Epona set the pace. Let her chase me round the Cage, corner me, hurt me.
But then the red hot kicks in. I try to shove it down, push it away, but it rips through me. Takes me over. The red hot don’t know Maev. It don’t know she’s got a plan. It don’t trust her. Because the red hot don’t k
now plans or people or trust. It only knows one thing. Survival.
An I cain’t keep it down. It’s wild. Cornered. It starts to fight Epona. It fights fer my life.
What’re you doin? she says, her eyes wide. Epona’s strong. She’s smart. She pushes me to the edge. But I push right back. I got more to lose than her, with the gauntlet in my sights.
We fight till we’re both bloodied, battered, exhausted.
At last she makes a mistake. I git her by the throat. I push her aginst the bars. The crowd goes crazy. They leap to their feet. Outta the corner of my eye, I see Maev. By her face, I know she cain’t believe what she’s seein. She waves her arms at me. Her mouth moves. Sayin somethin I cain’t hear.
But it’s the red hot that fills my ears now. Roars at me to squeeze Epona’s neck. My hands tighten. Wait! No! No! I grit my teeth, think of smotherin the red hot with blackness, holdin it down in deep black water till it cain’t breathe. There’s somethin … I know I gotta do somethin or … remember somethin but I … cain’t git hold of it, cain’t …
Lugh. Lugh. I nearly fergot him. How could I?
I’ll find you. Wherever they take you, I’ll find you. I swear.
I raise my head. The roar of the red hot starts to fade. Then it’s gone an I come back to myself.
The need, deep inside me, fer my heart to keep on beatin, fer my lungs to keep on breathin, that powerful need nearly took me over.
Lugh’s waitin fer me. Countin on me. Maev. The plan. It’s my only hope of gittin outta here. What was I thinkin of?
I let go. Epona falls into my arms. I hold her as she gasps fer breath.
I’m sorry, I says. Sorry. Then I step back. Hold my arms out wide.
Epona lifts her head, holds her hand to her neck. She looks at me, her face confused.
I nod. Go ahead, I says. Do it.
Then she does. She takes me down.
The two cagekeepers haul me to my feet an take me by the arms. Before I know it I’m walkin outta the Cage an standin in front of the crowd.
They’re off their heads with rage. They know damn well I took a fall. They hate bein cheated. They boo an bay fer my blood like a pack of wolves. Them that stands near to the gauntlet run, climb an punch an push to git the best place. They all want their chance to be in on the kill.