Survival Rout

by Ana Mardoll

  Was I asleep? I hadn't thought so, but I'd been in darkness and now I find myself in light, shaken by the slam of doors. A hand clasps mine and I turn my head to see dark eyes blinking back tears. "Tony," I whisper, feeling a goofy grin spread wide over my lips. "I thought you were mad at me."

  "Stupid," he says softly, shaking his head. Hair falls over his eyes and he has to swipe it away. "I am. Now stay alive so I can beat you up in practice."

  My grin widens as the firelight behind his head flickers into a warm halo, causing his skin to glow invitingly in the gloom. "Only if you promise to kiss it all better after," I tell him, hearing my words slur.

  Worry creases his brow and he touches my cheek with the back of his hand. "You're burning up."

  "Answer the question," I mumble, feeling sleep closing over me.

  "Yes! Don't you fall asleep on me," he orders, slapping my cheek. The sting is barely noticeable above the dull pain dragging me down. "I will, but you have to stay awake."

  "Okay, okay. 'S hard," I mutter. My eyelids feel as heavy as the iron gate to the arena, slipping shut despite my best attempt to please him. Above me I hear a buzz of words, the strange sound of girls' voices.

  "Miyuki! Tell us how we can help you."

  "I-I don't— That one is worse off. We need to set his leg and stop the bleeding. Amethyst, help me?"

  "I'm here. We'll need wood to make a splint and cloth to wrap it. And we need to wash the wound."

  "We'll get water from our pool. Handler, we can use your cart. Ruby and I can load it up with bowls."

  "Diamond, I don't have the Master's approval—"

  "And if his fighters die while you're asking him? C'mon, open the doors!"

  "She's right, Handler. Scoria, Breccia, go help the girls fetch their water."

  "Not to butt in, but has anyone noticed the strong one is fading fast? Someone should fix that; we'll be punished if he dies."

  "Yes, I don't— Aniyah, help me, I need—" A panicked pause in the heavy air before the same voice barrels onward. "Alexandrite! Undress him so we can wash the wound when they come back with water. Sapphire, can you wrap his cuts like you did with Emerald's arm? Amethyst and I will take this one."

  "This is going to hurt him. I need someone to hold him down so he doesn't thrash while I set the leg."

  "I'm on it." I hear Christian's voice, warm and confident, followed by a grunting howl of pain that pierces my mental haze.

  "Justin." His name slurs on my tongue, my mind fumbling with helpless urgency. "I've got to save him."

  "He's gonna be okay." The most beautiful girl in the world—the one Christian got before, and it was so unfair—appears beside me. Tight corkscrew curls frame brown eyes that flash in the firelight. Her lips are soft and plump, and her skin is a dark burnished brown I could fall into and never return.

  "Hi," I breathe, my heart pounding faster.

  "Hold still," she says, not looking up at my face. Her hands work over me, pulling away bloody scraps of cloth that stick to my body and are embedded in my wounds. I wince at fresh waves of pain, and Tony squeezes my hand.

  "There... There was a bear. Justin." My words slur again, pain muddying my mind. There was red fire and eyes that gleamed dangerously in the dark. But I was wrong; it was just an innocent animal. I have to tell her. I have to explain. She needs to know what I did, and how Justin got hurt because of me.

  "I know." She doesn't meet my eyes as she works. "I saw. But you won. You saved your friend. You're both going to be okay." Only then does she look up at me, her brown eyes stern. "You're not allowed to die. Miyuki is going to heal you and you're going to be properly appreciative when the Master asks."

  "He's not going to die," Tony agrees, his voice hoarse. "We'll heal him up and sing your praises. Promise."

  She shoots him a grateful look, her eyes softening when she sees his hand holding mine. "Are you friends?" Before Tony can answer, there is a sudden sound of grinding doors and they look up. I hear the pounding of bare feet on stone and another girl runs into my blurred field of vision, a bundle of white in her arms.

  "I got clean cloth," she reports, panting. "The others are coming with water. Handler is with them. Did you need help getting his clothes off? Oh, hello." She studies me with a detached expression, sparing a nod for Tony. "You're the new boy, huh?"

  "Keoki," I croak out, studying her face. The beauty kneeling beside me continues to pick torn shreds out of my wounds, the accompanying jolts of agony helping to keep me awake. "What's your name?"

  She ignores me, pressing her lips together as she considers my condition. "Wrapping him is gonna be a pain. How will we lift him?"

  "I can't help there," the beauty says, her voice flat. "Maybe Ruby could—" Her words are cut off as another girl approaches. A familiar face this time, though when I last saw Diamond she looked very different than she does now with two heavy bowls of water tucked under her arms and sweaty hair plastered to her brow.

  "Handler's back so keep your voices down. He hasn't said anything about you two using your names, so I'm hoping he didn't notice, but we need to be careful he doesn't hear any more. Ruby's keeping him distracted, but I can move the boy; he's not that heavy. Sapphire, take these off me before I slosh." The inked girl hurries to fuss over the bowls, working out the best way to unburden her without losing all the water.

  "He's heavy to me," my goddess mutters, shaking her head as she stands to help the others.

  She rises slowly, and not in an elegant way; she moves as though every action were a deliberate choice. When she stands from where she kneels, her hands push off from the floor and I see pain flicker over her face, twisting her sweet lips from a smile to a grimace.

  What's wrong with her? Can't they fix her? Everyone here seems so damaged. I remember the scars crisscrossing Tony's back, the sensation of the raised welts under my fingers. If I don't die from these wounds, I suppose I'll soon have scars of my own. I don't know how I feel about that, but I don't think I like the idea.

  "Sapphire, I'll lift him, then you two get the cloth under him, okay?"

  "I'll help," Tony announces, moving to slide his hands under my shoulders.

  Even this slight jostling sends new waves of pain rippling from the gashes in my stomach. "Stop, no! Hurts," I gasp, panting in agony. I black out, but only for a moment; when I can see again, no one has moved from where they'd been. Their distorted voices wash over me.

  "Fast as we can," Diamond says, ignoring my words and bracing her hands under my legs. "Sooner we get that cloth under him, the sooner we can wrap the wound and staunch the bleeding. One, two, three!"

  I don't have the breath to scream, but gasp again as the world swims around me. I feel the bustle of the two girls—the beauty and her inked friend—passing something through the thin layer of air beneath me. Then I'm lowered back down and the world is only darkness and pain and a sense of time being lost.

  "Hey! Don't fall asleep; come on, come back!" Tony's voice, pinched and worried, sounds very far away.

  "I've got you. You're not leaving us. I know it hurts." A soft voice, low by my ear. Musical and warm, suffused with understanding. "Listen, don't resist the pain; it'll just overwhelm you and carry you away. Let your mind move with it."

  Her words don't make sense at first. Images and sounds flutter disjointedly through my mind. A memory jars loose: a powerful image of rushing water carrying me away from shore. Fighting the water would only wear me out and so I swim with it, breaking away in small strokes.

  I close my eyes, trying to follow the pain. Where is it worst? Here, along the deepest gash: a tear that crosses my chest and cuts down to my hip. I let my mind trace the outline; it sharpens under my attention, then begins to lessen. Like the current, once I've accepted the pain, I can take steps to lessen the worst of it. My breathing becomes shallow, restricting the movements of my chest; I force my shoulder to relax, loosening the muscles along my side. Working with the pain, instead of against it, does help.


  "But I still hurt."

  "I know," the girl says, her hands moving over me as she dresses my wounds. I hadn't meant to voice my thoughts, but when I open my eyes I see understanding in her gentle gaze. "I know it's awful, and so very unfair, but I need you to be strong now. So much depends on you getting better."

  She's right; it isn't fair. A part of me wants to scream, to break things, to smash in the white featureless face of that creep who was here before—the one who ordered Justin's death as though it were nothing to him. But I can't even move, so I sigh and settle back. The inked girl begins the painful process of knotting my wrappings, and I focus on the beauty's face and voice to get me through these ministrations.

  "You know my name?" It was music on her tongue, the three syllables flowing as smoothly as the soothing water she now pours over my wounds. I would have expected washing to be fresh agony, but the water tingles against my skin and soaks away the sharpest pain.

  Her lips twitch at my question. "You introduced yourself to Sapphire," she reminds, nodding at the inked girl.

  "Oh, right." I glance at the other girl, but she doesn't look up from her work. Diamond is gone; she must have left while the pain was still washing over me. Turning my head, I see her with the others working on Justin. "There are so many of you: Sapphire, Diamond, Amethyst, Emerald, Ruby." I frown up at her. "What's your name? You said 'Miyuki', and I thought I heard her say 'Aniyah'. Or should I just call you 'Beautiful'?"

  The other girl, Sapphire, ties off the last of my wrappings with a surge of vigor that makes me wince under her attentions. "I gotta go help Diamond with the other one," she tells my girl, jerking her head in Justin's direction. "You got this one by yourself?"

  "I'll be fine." The beauty smiles at the other girl, who promptly bounces up and darts away. My benefactress watches her go with a fond gaze before her eyes drift back to Tony and me. "My name?"

  She hesitates for a long moment, her eyes flicking to the knot of girls behind her. "Yes. My name is Aniyah," she admits in a low murmur, her expression turning solemn. "But the Master calls me Alexandrite and I'm not supposed to know my real name. Please don't tell?" Her voice is a gentle song drifting over me. "I'd get in trouble if he found out. Killed, or worse."

  "Really? We have the same thing. Was it written on your clothes?" Tony studies her, curiosity alight in his dark eyes. He glances at Handler on the other side of the cavern, pitching his voice so we can't be overheard. "I'm Basalt in the arena and this one here is Granite. But my real name is Anthony Suen. You can call me Tony, though. Everyone does."

  Aniyah graces him with a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you, Tony." She looks down at the bowl of water in her lap, now half empty and swirled with my blood after repeated dippings with the cloth used to clean me. "Can I ask you to get me a fresh bowl from the cart? Standing is a bit of an effort for me."

  He studies her for a long moment, his dark eyes peering from under his shaggy fringe, then he breaks into an easy grin, all lopsided arrogance. "I'd be happy to help. Stay here, I'll be right back." He pats me lightly on the shoulder and bounces up to stroll over to the silver cart.

  She watches him go with a skeptical smile on her face, then turns back to me. Lowering her voice and not meeting my gaze, she murmurs, "Thank you. For Miyuki."

  I nod, but the words don't make a lot of sense. "For what now?"

  Her lovely face is written with a confusion that melts into hesitation. "My friend was, uh, assigned to you. Miyuki told me you didn't— You gave her your blanket and pillow. Thank you."

  I blink, remembering the girl in my room and how Tony had given her those things. Did Aniyah misunderstand which boy gave out the blanket when Miyuki told her story, or did she take her promise of silence more seriously than I'd expected? I stammer, trying not take credit for something I didn't do. "Hey, it wasn't a problem. I don't touch girls who don't want to be touched."

  I'm rewarded with a warm smile, the curl of her lips turning my legs to liquid where I lie. "I'm glad. I haven't met everyone here yet, but you seem nice. You and Tony and Christian."

  I give her a winsome grin, trying to look dashing despite the pain. "Tony and I are really awesome," I tell her with a wink. "But Christian? I'm incredibly jealous of that guy." I wait a heartbeat for the delivery. "He got awarded the best girl. How is that fair?"

  She blinks, staring at me for a moment. Then her smile widens and she bursts into laughter, struggling to conceal it so the others don't notice. "Does that work?" she demands, her brown eyes dancing. "Like, ever?"

  My own grin is unrepentant. "Well, I don't know!" I chuckle, wincing at the accompanying wave of pain; no laughing until my chest heals up, I note with some sourness. "I only woke up three cycles ago."

  She nods, her expression sobering. "I know," she whispers, dabbing at my chest with her wet cloth. "We came in at the same time, you and me and Miyuki." She gives me a sidelong glance, her eyes watchful. "The other girls thought we might all be friends, the three of us, but who knows?"

  I stare at her, processing this. With all the near-death situations I've been dealing with, I haven't had a lot of time to think about the memories I don't seem to possess anymore, and whether one of those memories was of a pretty girl with perfect hair and a dazzling smile. "Aw, man," I breathe, "if I forgot something like that, that'd be the unluckiest thing ever; to have a girl like you and then lose her."

  Her lips quirk again, and she shakes her head at me. "Stop it," she orders, her voice teasing. But her eyes don't dance this time, and I wonder if she's thinking the same thing. Even if we didn't lose each other, there's a good chance we've both lost someone.

  Yet if we have, there's nothing that can be done about it now. I take her hand, trying not to grimace at the pain as I struggle through movements that were so thoughtlessly easy before. "Sorry. I won't melodrama at you. But, uh. Would you be open to exploring that idea sometime?" I give her another grin. "I seem to win a lot of fights. Should I ask for you next time?"

  Aniyah stares. Her hand is soft in mine but slightly limp; not holding me, but not pulling away either. "Maybe," she says, five whole heartbeats later. Her eyes soften again, warm and gentle, and I see temptation there. "We'd be able to talk, at least," she hedges. Her fingers curl against my palm, stroking the skin and sending little shivers of pleasure up my arm in welcome contrast to the pain.

  Another moan from Justin ruins the mood; we both start guiltily and she yanks her hand away. I turn my head to see the others finishing up with him, having apparently done all they can do. His leg has been laid out with two thin wooden poles on either side then wrapped heavily with cloth. The wounds on his chest have been washed and bound in the same way as mine, and the jagged cuts on his face bandaged with gauze. He doesn't look well at all, but he's alive and no longer bleeding; that's got to count for something, right?

  Until the Master sends him out again, I think, a gloomy mood descending.

  Aniyah turns back to me, her brow knitted with distress. "I'd better get back to Miyuki," she murmurs. "I'll send Tony over to you, okay?" She says his name hesitantly, as if she doesn't feel the word is hers to use.

  "Yeah." I give her a sympathetic wince as she rises in her careful way. "You do that. And we'll talk later?"

  She hesitates for a moment before nodding. "I'd like that. But don't you die! I mean it."

  "I won't," I promise, watching her walk away, then leaning my head back with a sigh.

  Chapter 19

  Aniyah

  We stay with the boys until fourth bell, but everything is awkward and awful. Keoki is washed down twice more with healing water from the pool, but I don't return to his side or speak with him again. I'm too aware of Miyuki's bustling presence nearby, directing us as a group and working with xer healing hands.

  Instead, I leave his care to Sappho, Hana, and Tony, who together replace his blood-soaked bandages at third bell and keep the fresh ones damp with the magical water we bring in on Handler's cart. Keoki seems uncomfortable on t
he floor and in too much pain to carry anywhere else, but otherwise stable. He even tries to joke with us, and grins in momentary triumph when he coaxes an eyeroll out of Chloe.

  Aside from his jokes, which mostly fall flat, the mood in the cavern is somber. The other boy, Justin, flits in and out of consciousness, moaning weakly and thrashing the leg that isn't wrapped from ankle to thigh. Now that his bones are set and his other wounds bandaged, there isn't much more we can do. Boys hover around him and I manage to coax a sip of water down his throat, but only time will tell if he can be saved.

  We do one thing right: we make Miyuki look good. After the bumpy start when Miyuki and I blurted out each other's names, xie swings into command. Xie tells us when to wash the boys, how to bandage them, and when to replace the first batch of stained cloths with fresh ones. For things xie needs help with—like splinting Justin's leg—or when xie absolutely needs xer glasses to see, we're careful to get Handler out of the room first, having him escort Hana and Chloe to the pool for more water.

  The purpose of this play is to save Miyuki, but it isn't all an act. Xie focuses xer attention on the boys once they've been made stable, working xer magic to ease their pain. I watch as dark dust pours out from xer fingertips to coat xer hands. The glittering powder soaks into the patients as xie works and, though only I can see the magic, it is undeniably real. Keoki swears his pain drains away at xer touch, and Justin's moans quiet under xer attentions.

  For a moment, I'm caught up in my own fiction: I almost believe Miyuki can work miracles, that xer magic can heal them. My eyes know better, though. The dust coating xer hands manipulates muscles and numbs nerves with growing power, but xie can't knit bones back together or close the ragged gashes carved into their skin. We've done all we can for them, and I fear it won't be enough. I ache for these boys to be saved. Keoki is goofy and adorable and, while I don't know Justin, he doesn't deserve to die like this.

  My heart weighs heavily in my chest as Handler escorts us back to our grotto at fourth bell. We've already eaten with the boys, though no one was very hungry, so there isn't much left for us to do in this cycle except to put up the bed curtains. Handler makes sure we have enough material left over after what was used to bind Justin's leg to his splint, but his demeanor is once again frosty. The air around him bites with a fearful chill, and his thumb rubs in repetitive motions over the mole at his wrist.