by Ana Mardoll
Miyuki gives me an exasperated look. "After Handler takes me back, you guys need to collect enough weapons and armor for all of us to use. You'll also need to save the food bowls from second meal for carrying water, and you'll have to make slings or something to carry them. So cool your heels and help me and Tony make a list of everything we need and how we're going to get it out of here."
I offer my most plaintive pout in supplication. "Can we sleep a little longer first?"
She rolls her eyes but the effect is softened by her smile. "C'mon, now's your chance to show me you're worth half as much as Aniyah thinks you are."
Chapter 27
Aniyah
"We'll need to wrap up the way we do for matches, completely covered with no skin showing; otherwise the sun will sear us and we'll be too weak to get very far." Imani gathers up armfuls of gauzy cloth as she talks, briskly dumping everything in a big pile on her bed.
"Damn, I didn't think to tell the boys that. I hope they're not going to run around topless, the way they usually do." Miyuki pushes xer glasses up xer nose, squinting as xie peers up at the sunlight pouring through the hole in our ceiling. "Did you sense any shade beyond the gate, Aniyah?"
"Only distantly, on the other side of the border. There might be a little at the cliffs, but I wouldn't count on that for shelter." The lies come effortlessly now, rolling from my tongue without hesitation.
I did try to tell the truth when I was brought back from the arena. I was woozy from what the shadowy man had done to me, my senses so heightened that the magic around me had become a constant assault of glittering light. Hana and Miyuki were there to catch me when I stumbled over the threshold of the golden doors and I opened my mouth to speak the truth, too weary to care about a vow I'd never intended to keep. Then I tasted ash on my tongue and my throat dried until all I could do was sputter wordlessly.
Miyuki brought me water and stroked my shoulder as I gulped down the soothing liquid, but each fresh attempt to speak brought another round of shuddering coughs. Only when I gave up the effort and resolved to lie did the ash wash away. So I'd 'heard' the news of our doom, letting the others deduce that the speaker had been the Master. And I'd 'sensed' the path through the wasteland, rather than receive detailed instructions from an invisible voice as I lay faint beside a bench in the arena.
I don't know if these easy lies are part of the magic that seals the truth inside me or a facet of my own character; I only know that lying to Miyuki ought to be harder than this. Even knowing it's the best chance I have to save our lives, I'm uneasy with the deal I've struck. I just need to get everyone out and safe, I remind myself. Once we're away from here, I can decide what to do about the shadow man.
"We've got enough cloth to cover the boys," Hana says, breaking into my thoughts. "My real worry is water. Even if we cover up, the sun will suck the moisture out of us. We've seen boys faint from thirst in the arena; I don't want that happening to any of us."
"Handler only brought nine bowls with second meal," Sappho says, looking up from the table with a dejected expression. "I guess we're lucky he brought any at all."
It's hard not to wince at the pain in her voice. Her wounds are healing—the purple-red bruises have turned a mottled yellow-green at the edges—but her mood is still low. Not even the prospect of escape has lifted her distress and, though she's insisted that what happened was not my fault, I still feel guilty.
"If you count the ones we've been keeping by our beds, that makes fifteen." Chloe carries them in a stack to the table, separating the bowls into three neat little towers.
Heather looks up from her seat by Sappho, her chin resting on her hands. "That's two for everyone else to carry and three for me? Joy and rapture."
"The boys should bring enough water for themselves, as long as they don't flake out on us." Hana counts on her fingers with a frown. "Well. Not the wounded one, of course. And someone will have to carry him, so that's two boys not lugging water. But we'll make it work."
Imani surveys her pile of cloth and pulls out several long strips. "We can wrap up the food that Handler brought for second meal. The fruits will bruise, but if we're lucky the meat will dry in the heat. Anyway, we don't need it to last long, just until we get to the border." She looks up at me, and I see the lingering doubt in her eyes warring with hope. "After that we'll be safe, won't we?"
"I think so." I want to say more but my throat is pricking as I remember the strange words the faery man had whispered as a punctuation to his directions: 'When you reach the forest on the other side of the chasm then, if you humans wish deeply enough to cross over into freedom, you will do so.'
Chloe doesn't look at us, preoccupied with more immediate concerns. She frowns at the bowls she's stacked. "We can make slings from the curtains to carry them, but sloshing will be a problem. Every step we take, water is gonna be slopping out over the tops."
"What if we leave them stacked?" Sappho's voice is soft, her hands reaching out to run over the bowls. "They've got that indented lip around the top rim that lets him stack everything on the cart. It's not a perfect seal and water would still get out, but it'd be a slower leak than an open bowl in each hand."
Hana makes a face and walks over to the table, picking up a bowl and measuring it with her hand. "Wrist to finger," she mutters. "And we've got fifteen? We could make a couple stacks of seven and eight, but they'll be heavy when they're full."
"Halter across the neck?" Miyuki suggests as xie adjusts xer glasses. Xer nose glistens with slippery sweat after spending half a cycle running around making preparations. "Who's going to carry it, though?"
"Maybe one of the boys?" I suggest, anxious to contribute. I'm watching from my bed where I've been ordered to rest, since I'll slow the group enough without wearing myself out packing. But I hate having to sit still while the others run around; I feel antsy and useless. "Keoki could—"
Chloe scoffs before I can finish, shaking her head with amusement. "Y'all, I can handle them myself. Get them filled and stacked and tied up and I'll carry them fine. Just make sure they're wrapped tight so they don't shift off each other when I move."
It isn't a perfect plan, but no one can think of a better way to carry the water. Miyuki and Hana fill the bowls at the pool and bring them back to my bed. Chloe rips curtains into strips of heavy fabric and I tie the strips around the stacked bowls, securing everything tightly. Then Imani wraps the two little towers until they're cushioned in a thick weave that allows only the slightest movement. The result isn't perfect, but as long as Chloe doesn't move too fast it'll probably be okay.
Under different circumstances, I'd find this work relaxing; as it is, my heart is pounding and my shoulders feel stiff as the stone beneath me. Time seems to pass much faster than I feel it should, which is vexing when every cycle up to this one has been spent longing for the bells to come sooner. Everything must be finished before the third meal, and the other girls whirl around the cavern as they wrap food in gauze bundles and drape cloth over every inch of their skin and mine.
At last, Hana judges the time close enough for us to take our places. Miyuki helps me off the bed, xer glasses catching the sunlight as we walk to the door. It occurs to me that if this works and we manage to escape, xie will never have to hide xer glasses again. It's a small thing next to all of us being free and alive, but longing tears spring to my eyes. If we stay together and don't panic, we can do this.
Miyuki guides me forward until we stand before the golden doors. Ever since my senses were sharpened by the shadowy faery—whom I've begun to call the 'Shadow Man' in my head—the doors have glowed like a beacon, shining brighter than the sun which spills through our ceiling. Tendrils of magic writhe over the surface, like shrunken arms flailing bonelessly for something to grasp. Their constant wriggling unnerves me and I hate standing this close.
"Okay, Aniyah, do what you have to do," Hana prompts, shouldering her sack of fruit.
I nod without turning away from the doors. I know how the magic works now. I ca
n see it, as clearly as I see the freckles on Miyuki's face. I understand the way Handler reaches out to the magic and how it flows through him as a conduit. Now I just have to create that circuit myself. What could go wrong?
Holding my breath, I take a step forward. I stand alone in front of the doors and spread my arms, waiting for the writhing tendrils to notice me. A thick golden strand brushes against my face, too warm to be comfortable; I swallow hard and wait for the others to follow. They reach out now that they know I'm here, encircling my wrists and caressing my face.
I'm part of you, I think, willing the magic to understand. You recognize me, don't you? We were made by the same Master. The twists and turns in your design are stamped on me as well. I see it now. The magic pulses faster, perhaps in response to my thoughts or the stillness of my stance, and hot light flows over and through me. The door glows subtly brighter, and I wait for the crack to appear down the center.
Nothing happens. We wait, the tension in the room rising as breath is held and feet shuffle in place.
"Aniyah?" Hana's voice is low, verging on the edge of concerned.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm super impressed," Heather drawls, setting her pack against her feet.
I shake my head and step back, grimacing with frustration. "It's trying to work! I can tell by the way it speeds up. It goes faster when it flows through someone, and flows fastest through him. The cuts in his face and hands, the patterns—" My voice trails off as I turn to face the others and my gaze catches the shimmer that dances unceasingly over Imani's face.
Imani's talent is to alter her face. They captured her so the boys would have variety in their beds, but she uses her talent to tell stories instead. She's entertained me over the long cycles when I waited for Miyuki to return, her face remaking itself for each speaker in her tales with almost limitless range. And her body is stamped with the same magic as me and the doors.
She watches me staring at her. "Aniyah? Can I help?"
I lick my lips as the idea solidifies in my head. "Imani, can you alter your face to be like Handler's? With the cuts? And maybe your hands as well?" The flickering magic dispersed over her body is concentrated in her face, but a glimmer stretches over her extremities. "Just enough to change the texture. That's all we need."
Imani takes a deep breath, looking unsure. "I'll try."
She closes her eyes, her breath deepening as though falling asleep. The magic in her face flares so brightly I have to avert my eyes; when I look back, cracks are forming. Hairline fractures spread over her face and thicken into furrows so deep I could press my finger into the rows. Smaller cuts ripple up her hands and over her wrists, the strain of producing them etched into her tense shoulders.
"Aniyah." Her voice is a whisper through clenched teeth. "I don't know how long I can hold this."
"You're doing fine! Let me just—" I jump forward, ignoring the accompanying twinge of pain in my lower back as something I'm just going to deal with later. I put my hands on her shoulders and guide her into position with her arms stretched out, letting the magic find her. "Hold still. It's going to be warm, but let it flow through you; don't fight it."
The tendrils find her faster than they did me. They reach out with greedy hunger, sinking into her face and hands. My heart pounds as the light coating the door brightens with fierce urgency. Imani gasps, the sound loud in the silence, and I tighten my grip on her shoulder. "Just a little longer. It's working!" The air throbs with heat as the magic glows red through the cracks in her skin, casting the same shimmer in the air as the torches lighting the hallways.
A dark crack bisects the golden doors and someone behind me sucks in a surprised mouthful of air. I'm turning to grin at Miyuki when the light pulses again, this time brightly enough to leave me blinded. Imani cries out in pain and collides with me as she's flung backwards. We go down in a tangle of limbs, my groan inaudible over the clamor of voices and the screech of doors being hauled open before they can close again.
"Exactly what is going on here?"
The unexpected sound of Handler's voice traces raw fear down my spine. I look up from where I've fallen with Imani unconscious on top of me, blinking my eyes against the golden afterimage burned into my sight. The hooded man stands in the hallway outside, his cart loaded with food. He came to feed us first. We'd assumed he would go to the boys first, serving us later; they were the most valuable, after all.
"Heather, take the door!"
Hana is the first to react, her shout rising over the sudden terrified silence. Handler sweeps past her and Chloe without a backward glance and she glares at his back in frustrated impotence, the two girls unable to move from where they'd leaped forward to grab the doors when Imani and I were flung away. If we don't keep them open, the doors will pull themselves closed and we'll be trapped again.
Heather doesn't seem to hear; she's frozen to the spot, staring at Handler with wide, unblinking eyes. Sappho jumps to her feet and rushes forward, but Handler backhands her with a wide sweep of his inhumanly long arms. She staggers before collapsing to the stone floor, clutching at the bruise over her eye. He doesn't even check his walk, continuing in his long stride until he reaches the spot where I scrabble against stone in an unsuccessful attempt to get out from under Imani.
"You," he growls, peering down at me with his sightless gaze. Fear rolls off him in waves, setting my teeth on chattering edge. "I knew you were going to be trouble. Come here." He stoops to grab my arm and cold terror shoots through me.
"Don't you touch her!" Miyuki yells in a voice hoarse with fury. Xie darts forward to grab his hands where he grips me. I see a flash of magic, the sparkles in xer hands flaring into the air and sinking into his skin. He reels away in shock, clutching his hands to his sides at an odd angle while his feet skitter too fast on the stone. Miyuki drops to xer knees, hands fumbling to help me up even as xer breathing is labored.
"What did you do?" I hiss, scrambling to my knees as Miyuki rolls Imani off me. Now that she's no longer on top of me, I see what tore her consciousness away: the magic flowing through her face and hands has burned her, leaving angry scars in place of the furrows. Oh, no! Imani, this is all my fault. I am so sorry.
"It's— I figured—" Miyuki's breath comes hard and fast, struggling to get the words out. "The things I do to your muscles to loosen them? I reversed it. Imani, hon, we need you to wake up now," xie adds, placing xer hands on either side of the dazed girl's face. "I can take the pain away, but you have to get up."
"Heather, snap out of it and take the door!" I look up at Hana's bellow to see alarm written on her face as Handler stumbles backwards into the hallway. "He'll get the Master if we don't stop him! Heather!"
"I got it," Chloe growls, her voice low under Hana's shout. In a blur of sudden movement, she kicks back hard against her door. I clap my hands over my ears in automatic response to the horrible grinding crunch that follows when metal meets stone with far more enthusiasm than either would desire. The door shudders and buckles at the point of the kick, sticking fast to the wall. Chloe strides after Handler, her expression furious.
He's taller than her by more than a head and still sweats magical fear from every pore, infecting anyone who draws close with paralyzing dread. But his hands hang stiffly at his side, completely useless to him now, and Chloe's anger seems to carry her over the cresting fear as though feeding on all lesser emotions. She grabs him by the robes, her fist crumpling the fabric in a tight knot and pulling him forward until he's forced to stoop down to her level.
"You ever wonder what the boys think just before they die?"
The tone of her question is calm, almost pleasant. Before he can answer she jerks his robes in a swift forward tug. A loud crunch resonates as his face slams hard into the floor, followed by a second when she places her foot on the back of his head and presses down in a quick stomp.
Liquid oozes from the mangled remains of his head, and she shakes her foot daintily as she steps out of the mess. "Heather, are yo
u okay? You kinda froze up there."
The blond girl nods her head, closing her eyes as she swallows hard. "Yeah." She doesn't say more on the subject but Hana studies her with worried eyes.
"C'mon," Hana orders. "Help Imani and Sappho up, then we have to reach the boys. Shit, with Handler dead we don't have any other way to open the doors. We're just gonna have to do this again."
Imani stands with Miyuki's help; at Hana's words she runs a shaky hand over her tight curls. "I'm ready," she chokes out, but the scars on her face tell another story. I'm not even sure if she can form the furrows again, given the state of her burns.
"I'm okay too," Sappho manages, pulling herself to her feet with Heather's help. "It just hurt, that's all."
"Up, up, up, here we go," chants Hana, ushering us through the doors and around the corpse of our jailer before jogging down the hall to the boys' cavern. I try a tentative run and conclude that, while it hurts like hell, it won't kill me. My body will make me pay for this later, but I'll either be free or dead by then so it won't matter.
"Look, worst case maybe Chloe can kick the doors down," Sappho suggests as we run, wiping blood from her cheek where Handler struck her. "Maybe you guys can open them halfway and Chloe can—"
Her voice dies away as we round the bend in the long hallway and skid to a halt. In front of us are the enormous black doors to the boys' cavern, imposing in their solidity and frightening in the strange writhing pattern of their magic.
The doors are currently open, though closing fast with the ponderous screech of metal on stone. Through the rapidly disappearing crack in the center of the doors we catch a glimpse of Handler, robed and hooded, with a silver cart near at hand.
Chapter 28
Keoki
There isn't time to lead up to the whole escape plan; the moment the doors close behind Handler and Miyuki, I have to dive onto the food to keep the guys from tearing into it. "Hungry?" Christian asks, picking meat from a bowl he'd snatched up before I almost landed in his lap gathering dishes into my arms.