by Ann Aguirre
“The rules exist to protect us.” But I didn’t speak the words with conviction anymore. I’d seen too much.
Some of the anger drained out of his face. “She’s really upset. Would you mind coming with me to talk to her? I promise we won’t involve you in anything.” He shrugged. “I just thought, after everything, you might—”
“No. I can’t. But I’ll go with you to reassure her.”
But we didn’t find Banner in her personal space. Nor was she in the kitchen, the common room, or the workshop. Thimble stared at me strangely when I popped my head in for the second time, but I just waved and went on. Fade’s scowl grew in proportion to the mystery.
“Builders never leave the enclave,” he said flatly.
“I know. Maybe she’s bathing?”
“Let’s find out.”
It was the only place we hadn’t looked. He walked with me, but he couldn’t go in. I slipped into the room, finding it darker and colder than usual. The steady plink plink of water added to the hiss of the torches. I found Banner in the corner. Fully dressed, she sat hunched over, paying no mind to the trickle dropping on her head.
“Don’t worry. Please. You were right. You can trust me.”
When I knelt down to touch her shoulder, she fell forward in a pool of blood. Banner wasn’t just upset; she was dead.
Recompense
Nobody cared. The elders sent her body out into the tunnels as a gift for the Freaks. That was all. People talked about the shock, but everyone agreed she must’ve killed herself. A girl in the baths with two slit wrists? What else could it be? They speculated that perhaps she’d snuck around and gotten herself in trouble. Bred without permission, maybe. That kind of offense got you exiled.
Almost anything could get you exiled. As a brat, I hadn’t realized the magnitude; I didn’t dare articulate my thoughts or my fears. The safety of the enclave was starting to feel like a prison. Life went on for all us, and only Fade wore his grief nakedly. He didn’t talk to me anymore outside of patrols, as if I might’ve had something to do with it. And that hurt, more than I wanted to admit.
After the naming ceremony, Twist came looking for me. “Thanks for taking care of the gifts.”
So much had happened I’d almost forgotten I had an ulterior motive for doing that. I’d wanted to find out what they’d done to the Burrowers. I wasn’t sure I did anymore. The knowledge might only prove a burden.
But since I had him here, I figured I’d try. “I’m glad I could help.”
I fell into step with him as he talked, venting about the strain of working for Whitewall. Twist didn’t have any friends that I knew of, so maybe he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Listening cost me nothing.
When he wound down, I said, “I saw the team come back with a lot of stuff. I guess you have to sort and organize it for the Wordkeeper.”
He sighed. “Of course I do. They don’t trust anyone else.”
“How much did we pay for it all?” I tensed.
“A few bags of fish. The way I heard it, those Burrowers are smart and wouldn’t let the Hunters in until they passed the trade goods through a narrow gap in the wall.”
Relief spilled through me. I’d nearly let suspicion poison everything. Just because the elders had made some tough decisions, it didn’t make them brutal or merciless. A weight lifted from my shoulders.
I talked with Twist a bit longer, so he didn’t suspect I’d been after that information all along. Since I liked him — and few people did — I didn’t want him to think I’d only been using him. In the kitchen, we went our separate ways: him to other work and me to patrol.
Fade waited for me beyond the barricades this time, one foot tapping with ill-concealed impatience. As soon as I scrambled over, he spun and led the way into the dark. I thought we needed to talk, but plainly he disagreed. The hours passed with excruciating speed, between the silence and the tension.
At last as we turned back toward the enclave, he spoke. “Do you believe them?”
“Who?”
“The elders. The gossip.”
“About what?” I thought I knew but I wanted him to spell it out.
“Banner. They’re saying she killed herself because…” He trailed off, unable to say it aloud.
He’d been close to her. That made him a likely candidate for the sire of her unborn brat, if the story was true. I didn’t like how that made me feel. I cast back to the day we’d found her, remembering the cuts on her wrists, how the skin looked—
Sickness overwhelmed me.
“No,” I said quietly. “I don’t.”
He froze for a long moment and then spun to face me. “Why?”
I could see in his eyes he’d noticed right away. I just hadn’t wanted to think about it until he forced me to remember. “The cuts were wrong.”
If I wanted to die, I’d use one long motion, no stop and start of the blade. The ones we’d found on Banner showed where the knife dragged and paused. Someone had killed her; I didn’t know why. If they’d found her hoard, she should’ve been exiled.
But maybe it ran deeper. Maybe the elders knew something about the silent rebellion. In that case, Banner would’ve been killed as an equally quiet warning. Associate with them and you’ll wind up like this. It was nothing they would want to confront openly because that would mean admitting some citizens mistrusted their leadership. Acknowledging discontent would only breed more. I understood the way they thought.
“They added all of her things to the archives,” he said softly. “And fed her to the Freaks.”
I flinched. “I’m sorry.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
“What can we do?”
In answer he turned and headed for the barricades. I feared he might do something stupid, and I couldn’t think how to help him. If I pushed, I’d end up like Banner. And so would he.
A few weeks later, as promised, they rewarded me for my contribution to culture. With Banner’s death hanging over me, I didn’t want the credit, but there was no refusing. They held a feast, and the Wordkeeper sat me beside him in a place of honor.
Once everyone had assembled, he rose. “We’re here to honor Deuce, a Huntress who, despite considerable risk, brought back a bag of artifacts. She did not attempt to keep anything she found for her own personal pleasure. As one should always do, she thought first of the enclave.” The Wordkeeper droned on about the importance of putting the group before self. He also mentioned how I’d been principal in a trade that gave us access to more artifacts than we’d ever seen before.
I felt strange, being lauded for something that had been coincidence. I ducked my head, hoping the enclave wouldn’t hate me for making them listen to the Wordkeeper, but everyone seemed happy to take the day off. When he finished, he threw his hands skyward in a dramatic gesture. “Let the celebration start!”
An answering roar went through the crowd. Pipes and drums echoed through the enclave. The torches smoked; people whirled and stomped while brats ran around underfoot. Roasting meat and mushrooms smelled unbelievably good, and there was fish too. For once, they didn’t limit us and I took seconds of each dish. Brats immediately snatched my plate, running off to lick it and then wash it up so someone else, someone less honored, could use it.
From the sidelines, I watched the party until a Hunter came to get me. Gazing up at him, I realized he’d been patrolling longer than Fade. As a brat, I’d watched this one train and he was smiling at me. What was his name? Silk had introduced me, but that first day, I’d been so nervous, I couldn’t remember more than half of them.
Crane, I remembered belatedly.
“Come on,” he said. “You’re going to miss it.”
“Miss what?”
“We’re doing a demonstration.”
A thrill went through me, despite my dark mood. How could I have forgotten? At any feast, the Hunters assembled and sparred as part of the entertainment. Citizens often bet on the outcomes. Rising, I tried to l
ook serious when excitement bubbled inside me.
I glanced at the Wordkeeper, who had been sitting with me, watching the others dance. “May I be excused, sir?”
“Certainly. Fight well, Huntress.”
I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of hearing people call me that. Hurrying, I kept pace with Crane. He led me to the training room, where everyone else stood already waiting. As we slipped in, Silk was handing out the assignments, telling people who they’d face first in the tournament.
The elder Hunter beside me whispered, “It’s by elimination. The winner of each round progresses to the next until only two remain.”
That much I remembered. When Silk paused before me, she said, “Deuce, your first opponent will be Pinwheel.” It was a terrible name, and the girl who owned it scowled at me. She was tall, which meant she had a good reach — better than mine. I could see her assessing me in turn.
“Pin,” the other Huntress muttered, not that Silk cared. She had already moved down the line.
Once she finished, she went and got a box. “The senior Hunter will choose a number that determines the order in which you’ll fight.”
I stood by while Pin picked for us. No question I was low in seniority, even if I’d completed a dangerous mission and brought back some artifacts. She held up the wood chip so I could see it read “5.” Good, other people had to go before us, but not so many I’d have too much time to get nervous.
Pin slipped over beside me. “Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon.” But her tone was friendly. I wasn’t used to that.
“Make sure you give them a good show,” Silk ordered. “Now move!”
I followed the throng of Hunters into an orderly formation to the side of the training area. The rest of the enclave filtered in, forming a circle around the fighting ring. As a brat, I had pushed my way to the front, kneeling down so nobody complained about me being in the way. I’d watched so many of these tournaments, and now I was finally going to compete. For safety’s sake, we didn’t use weapons.
Random pairings meant no consideration had been given to skill level. I watched as a slim Huntress faced an older Hunter. She fought hard, but his experience dominated. In the next match, two Hunters circled each other, but the elder had the greater reach and better timing. Speed would help the smaller one in time, but at the moment he lacked the experience to parlay it into a win.
So the first two went quickly. The opponents were too unevenly matched for it to be otherwise. Anything else would’ve amounted to fakery, and the Hunters had too much integrity for that. The next two pitted veteran Huntresses and Hunters, and they were so fierce and graceful, they had me bouncing on my toes, cheering and oohing along with everyone else.
Then it was my turn.
Heart pounding, I took my place in the circle, where I faced Pin. She wore a fierce, focused look. At Silk’s signal, we faced each other and bowed.
“Begin!”
We circled. She was wary enough of me to want me to go on the offensive first; I took it as a compliment. Seeing I wouldn’t, Pin spun at me with her big move first. I leaped away from her lashing leg. I faked an off-balance landing, hoping that would bring her rushing in. It didn’t. She grinned at me and shook her head.
Pin blocked both my attempts to punch and countered with a kick aimed at my knee. I wheeled her arm into a lock and flipped her. Ha. Didn’t see that coming, did you? She landed hard on her back, but she pulled until I fell with her, flipping over the top. I turned the fall into a roll and came to my feet with a bruised shoulder. The sounds of the audience hooting and cheering faded as I narrowed my eyes on her movements.
We exchanged a flurry of hits and blocks. My speed came into play then, but when she connected, it rocked me. Her fist felt like ten pounds of solid rock slamming into my stomach. I doubled over, but when she went to finish me, I snagged her ankle and pulled. Immediately, I dropped all my weight on her chest and sank an elbow into her throat. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to prove my dominance. I held her there until she slapped the floor three times.
I staggered to my feet and Silk threw my hand in the air. I don’t believe it. I won. Proud and happy, I beamed at the audience, despite my new bruises. Afterward, Pin shook my hand and slapped me on the back. I went to stand with the other victors.
The other fights were good, but I was too pleased with myself to pay close attention. I should have. I might’ve learned something.
In the second round, I got my butt handed to me by the Hunter who had come to get me. Crane rushed me, ignoring my attempts at finesse. Up in the air, I tried to overbalance him, but he was holding me too tightly. I could feel the bruises forming. He slammed me to the ground and shoved my face in the floor before I had time to get my balance. I felt like he’d break my spine before I tapped.
Afterward, I shook his hand and limped to join the other losers, but even that didn’t dim my glow. I hadn’t lost in the first match, at least. As far as I could tell, no other new blood had made it out of the first round besides me.
Bets flew fast and furious while the fights went on. In disbelief, I watched Fade claw his way up the ranks. He was grace personified, compared to most of the Hunters. He fought with lethal beauty and an escalating sense of urgency. Sometimes, after a fight, he stared with such ferocity the spectators backed away. Even the other winners gave him a significant amount of space.
Eventually, it came down to Crane … and Fade. Final match. This would decide who held the title until the next feast. Fade was taller, leaner, but Crane had more muscle mass. He had brute strength in contrast to my partner’s agility. After watching them both, I didn’t know which way this would go.
The big Hunter charged but Fade dodged. He was so fast he made Crane seem lumbering in comparison. I knew how strong Crane was, but he had to get ahold of Fade first.
Three times, Crane lunged, Fade evaded, and the crowd got restless. Fade was losing them. They wanted a final match, not to see him refuse to take a hit. Come on, I said silently. You can do this.
He attempted his first strike, and he was just fast enough to clip the big guy’s jaw. But that brought him close enough for Crane to grapple. He crushed Fade in a rib-breaking hug and lifted him up off the ground. I realized the mistake as soon as he did it. Fade slammed his brow into the other Hunter’s temple.
Yes, that’s the way. Fight to win. While the big Hunter staggered, dizzied, Fade went for the kneecap. He gave no quarter, becoming more ferocious with every passing minute. It was almost as if he’d forgotten this was a match, as if he thought he’d die if he lost. On his last hit, he dropped Crane to the ground and he went with him, fist upraised to pummel his face.
The big guy tapped.
The crowd stilled, breath caught. They expected Fade to hit him anyway. So did I. I shook my head slowly, hoping he wouldn’t, hoping he wasn’t crazy. Slowly, he lowered his arm, and let Silk pull him to his feet. When she threw his arm in the air, he stumbled. He’d fought a lot of matches today. His black eyes flashed as he glanced around. His fists were still clenched, despite Silk’s grip. I wasn’t sure he knew the fights were over, or that he was safe.
“Our winner!” she shouted, and the citizens surrounded him to thump his back.
He was the best the Hunters had to offer, and he was about to attack the congratulatory crowd. Before I could think better of it, I pushed my way through the throng toward him. When necessary, I connected with a discreet shoulder or elbow to clear a path. I snagged his hand and towed him out of the mix.
The pipers and drummers started up again, distracting everyone with a festive tune. All the better for us to make our escape. The dancers stomped and clapped, and I pushed clear, leading him away into a quiet section of the warren. He leaned against the wall, seeming grateful for my intervention, even though he blamed me for my inaction after Banner’s death. His breath churned his chest as if he’d been running, and sweat trickled down his face.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“It’s hard for you,” I said. “Because you fight to live, not for show.”
Eyes closed, he nodded. “I participate because Silk won’t let me sit out. But once I get going, I … forget it’s not real.”
What must those years have been like for him outside the enclave? This wasn’t the time to ask, but I wondered. I noticed he had a host of new bruises from all the matches he’d fought today, but they didn’t seem to trouble him. He pushed away from the wall, skin gleaming pale in the torchlight. For a moment I wanted to put my hand over his heart so I could feel it beating, and the impulse frightened me. I took a step back.
“You sure I can’t get you anything to eat or drink?” Ordinarily I wouldn’t offer; that was brat work, but he’d earned it. Tonight he stood as the Hunters’ champion, and he could have whatever he wanted, including a Huntress for a serving girl.
“You did enough getting me out of there.” The flat, unfriendly tone cut me, and my smile died. For a minute, I’d felt like we were back on the old ground.
I didn’t know why I was still trying to help him. If he still thought I had something to do with Banner’s death, then we shouldn’t work together. Hurt curled through me.
“If we don’t hammer this out,” I said, “I’m going to ask Silk for a new partner.”
“I would have already if I thought it would do any good.”
I exhaled. “I’ll go talk to Silk.”
As I turned, he grabbed my arm and wheeled me around. “You want to tell me why you did it? This is on me. I told her she could trust you.”
I’d thought he trusted me — and that he was angry because I wouldn’t do anything after I admitted I knew she hadn’t killed herself. It was much worse than I’d imagined.
With fierce resolve, I broke his hold on me. “You want to fight this out? I didn’t do anything. If someone found out her secret, it wasn’t through me.”