by Frankie Rose
We break off, and Callum and Caius each take a group of twenty, and I take the remainder of the students. There are no knives today, not even fake ones. We’re training them how to escape if they’re being pinned to the floor by an attacker. This escape was supposed to take up a third of the lesson, but so many of the people we’re training have never fought in their lives. They’re women and men who built houses, or ploughed fields. They just don’t get it.
“Can’t you demonstrate?” a young kid, Andrew, asks, after both he and the guy supposed to be attacking him fail to understand for the fifth time.
“Yeah. A demonstration would help,” another guy from Callum’s group pipes up.
I can’t see the harm in a demonstration. “What do you say, Cal? Are you up for it?” Callum smiles and nods, yes. He becomes the attacker and I become the attacked. He charges at me—I see him coming, but I do nothing about it. That’s not the point of the exercise. I need him to put me on the floor. He slams into my rib cage and the air huffs out of my lungs in one loud grunt. I keep forgetting how much fighting hurts without a halo, but at least this is real. This is what it would look like if someone attacked one of them, anyway. I go down, Callum’s full body weight on top of me, and for a second I see stars. He grabs hold of my arms and pins them to my sides, but then I’m thrusting my hips up, twisting. He’s unbalanced for a second and that’s all I need. I take my opportunity and slap my hand hard against the side of his head. Most people always go for a punch, but that isn’t necessarily the best way to strike. Especially if you’re at close quarters and can’t pull back properly. A hard slap to the ear will disorientate your opponent and has the added bonus of hurting like hell.
Callum topples sideways, clutching his hand to the side of his head. I whip out from underneath him. In a second I have him on his front, his arm bent behind his back, with his wrist locked behind him. I have complete power over him and it has nothing to do with my strength. The weakest of women could apply the smallest amount of pressure to Callum’s wrist in this hold and make him scream for mercy.
“I think they get the picture.” Callum says, laughing stiffly. His voice is muffled with his face mashed into the concrete. I let him go, and no sooner have I done it then I am slamming into the floor, myself.
I don’t know where the impact comes from but I react to it immediately. I kick out my right leg and my boot makes contact. A loud ugghhh sound echoes around the empty space, and I have two seconds to roll myself over and crouch down into a defensive position. Caius is already up and facing me, dust marking his shirt and pants. I don’t even question why he attacked me. The tiny smile twitching at the side of his mouth explains that this is now a part of the demonstration, and I play along. I can’t resist.
Our last fight flashes through my head—Caius letting my knives hit him over and over again—and I can see so clearly that that was the case. He let every single one of my strikes land. It’s not that he’s better than me and he let me win. It’s just that he didn’t fight back. This time, that’s not going to happen. Every angle of his body tells me he’s going to fight back. Relief floods through me like a tidal wave. I had no idea I needed this so badly.
Caius starts circling me, concentration marking his face, and I know he needs it, too. He comes for me, and I lunge out of his reach. I have to be careful. Without knives in our hands, it would be all too easy for Caius to grab hold of me, and I know from experience that it’s hard to shake him. Our students gather around us as we circle, shifting to give us room when we get too close. We still haven’t made contact, and the sixty other bodies in the room remain deadly silent, waiting for it to happen. Caius presses forward, forcing me to retreat a couple of paces, and I realise what he is trying to do. He’s trying to corner me, give me nowhere to go. I should have realised sooner, but with our students crowding around, it was hard to see. Never forget your surroundings. Never forget where you are. I have done exactly that, and I can see Caius believes it might just be my downfall. He doesn’t realise, of course, that the last time I fought was in a pit eight metres across in diameter, and I’m used to having walls around me. He isn’t.
He rushes forward when he thinks he has me trapped. I dodge to the left and run three paces, jumping with as much force as I can gather. My boot hits the wall and I use the leverage to flip over his head. I twist my body mid-air, and I’m already committed to a strike before my feet hit the ground. My elbow hits Caius exactly where I had planned, right on the shoulder. His body rocks sideways, though he’s quick and is already turning around. I kick out, a snapping motion designed to push your opponent away, but Caius catches my ankle and sweeps, taking my other foot straight out from underneath me. A gasp ripples through the spectators as my back hits the concrete again. Caius doesn’t waste a second. He’s on top of me in a heartbeat. This is the precise position we have been trying to teach the class how to escape from, but I know Caius isn’t going to make it easy for me. I won’t be able to unseat him with my hips so I don’t even try. There’s no point. Instead, I let my body go limp for a second. Hesitation flickers behind Caius’ eyes. He waits for me to react, and I do. I yank my right arm back as quickly as I can. I pull it free from my side and manage to lift up my torso at an angle. Caius goes to grab hold of me again but I’m already moving. I lift my arm high and reach it over the back of Caius’ head, pulling his body closer to mine. He tries to draw me into a hug, but I’ve come too far and he can’t stop me. With my hand now on his back, my body twisted at an awkward angle, I lunge forward and grab hold of the belt at Caius’ hip. I rotate my body half a turn so that I’m nearly on my back, and that’s when Caius realises what I’m trying to do. I’m planning on twisting one more time and then reaching up to lock my legs around his throat. I know he won’t let that happen when he pushes back and lifts his upper body from the ground. Damn.
The next three seconds happen fast. We battle against each other for a moment, and then Caius is on his back, me resting on my back between his legs, which are wrapped around my waist. Squeezing. Crap. He tries to grapple for my arms, to lock them above my head, but that’s not happening. I drive both my elbows as hard I can back into his ribs. Caius’ legs stop squeezing for a second, long enough for me to turn around. I’m facing him now, which might have been a stupid move. Or maybe not. Before he can proceed to tighten his hold, squeezing the living daylights out of me, I extend my index and middle fingers on each hand and jab them into the sweet spot, an inch inwards from either of his hipbones. A collective groan goes up from the men in the crowd as Caius bucks underneath, trying to get away from the pressure.
I allow myself a small smile, knowing how badly that pressure point must hurt, which is my undoing. Don’t get cocky. Caius nails me with my own move, slapping his cupped hand against the side of my head. Ringing. That’s all I can hear. My body betrays me and I start to tip sideways, but I catch myself before I can hit the ground. With Caius’ legs no longer wrapped around me, I tuck myself up and roll.
When I right myself into a crouched position, Caius is a mirror image of me, ready to defend. Our bodies angle toward each other, responding to every twitch, every potential attack. We assess each other for a tense fifteen seconds before Caius breaks out into a smile. The smile develops, and for a moment the crowd is silent as he tips his head back and laughs. Then I’m joining him, and everyone else seems to gather that our fight is over. I don’t know why he’s laughing. I have no idea why I am, either, but it feels good. I slump backward so that I’m sitting on the ground, my legs splayed out in front of me. Even Callum and Penny are laughing now, along with everybody else. Caius gets up and approaches me, offering out his hand. I don’t even think about it; I take it. With one swift tug I’m back on my feet. He smiles and nudges me with his elbow again, and I give him a small shove back. Neither of us won the fight, and that makes me ridiculously happy. It’s when I’m dusting off my pants, still grinning, that I turn and see a flash of blond disappearing from the open doorway.
Eighteen lights flicker in the darkness. Each one is a fire burning on rooftops across the city. Luke and I watched as each one blazed into life, forming six lines rotating around us. Each line is a spoke in a wheel, and we are the wheel’s center. James watches on at a distance, silent and difficult to read, until he sees that all eighteen fires are lit—the system works—and then he leaves. Ryka, on the other hand, sits with his back pressed against the wall where I found Simone last night, his legs bridged and his elbows resting on his knees. When it’s just the three of us, Luke goes and sits next to Ryka and my heart tumbles over in my chest. Gods, could this hurt any more? I don’t think so.
“Do you think I can go out and man one of the towers, Ry? Opa thinks I’m as good as Foster with the rifles.” Ryka’s eyes drift to me, hesitation clear as day.
“I think that would be up to your sister,” he says softly. Luke looks up at me so hopefully that I feel terrible when I shut him down.
“I don’t know. It’s probably not safe, Luke. I mean, it’s bad enough when you’re on the roof here. At least here there are a hundred other people to rely on. Out there it would just be two or three of you.” I think I may have just ruined Luke’s life. He definitely thinks I have by the look on his face.
“Everyone here has a purpose, Kit. What am I? I’m the kid everyone calls on when they need messages running up and down these stupid stairs. I don’t want that, okay! I want to be useful. I need you to stop treating me like this!” He gets up and storms away without a backward glance. Well that was awkward. I clear my throat, not sure whether to apologise for him or go and apologise to him. I had no idea he thought I was treating him unfairly. With his previous guardians so keen to put him in danger at every single opportunity available, I have just been trying to keep him out of it.
Ryka heaves himself up, and I think he would walk straight past me if I don’t reach out and touch my hand to his arm. His hair is tied back as usual, his shirtsleeves rolled up around his elbows, displaying his tattoos. His brown eyes are impossibly dark without daylight to warm them. My chest constricts when he glances down at my hand on his bare forearm and swallows. He doesn’t remove my hand, just looks away.
“We have to talk about this,” I whisper.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Of course there is! How can you seriously do this right now? You promised me! You promised me things would be better if I chose you. You promised me there were things worth feeling pain and guilt for, Ryka. You were right. You showed me all of those things, and then you snatched them away.”
Ryka runs a hand through his hair, still staring at the ground. “I’m beginning to think I was wrong.”
“What?” I can’t believe I’m hearing this.
“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have made that promise.”
“So you think I’d be better off with the halo back around my neck, is that it? Because there are over twenty of them sitting in a box on red ten right now. I could be wearing one in less than five minutes if—”
Ryka snaps his head up. “Of course I don’t think that! Don’t be so ridiculous!”
“Then what?”
He starts pacing, rubbing his hands together. “I stand by what I said, Kit. I’m just saying, maybe I shouldn’t have been the one to make that promise to you.”
Oh. And suddenly it all becomes so clear. “What the hell are you talking about, Ryka? I don’t want Caius. I don’t want him or anyone else making promises to me. I only want you to keep yours.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You only agreed to be with me when you thought he was dead.”
“I never agreed to be with you!”
Ryka reels, his eyes widening. “What? Then why—”
“This was never an agreement. It was something that happened, something that neither of us could have stopped if we’d tried. I couldn’t, I didn’t want to stop it. You made me feel…you made me feel amazing and beautiful and loved. You made my heart work again, Ryka, and right now you’re crushing it under the heel of your boot!”
I’m shaking so hard, I can barely stop myself from flying at him. I don’t know what I need to do—whether I need to hit him or kiss him. Ryka just stares at me, his eyes shining too brightly in the dark. His chest rises and falls quickly, his nostrils flaring with each and every breath. The tension snaps in him in the blink of an eye, and he steps forward. He gently pulls me to him, wrapping his arms carefully around me. I reach up and fist the back of his shirt, the smell of him flooding my senses.
“I don’t mean to hurt you, Kit. I don’t. I’m hurting, too.” He places a feather-light kiss on the top of my head, and that’s when the tears start to burn in my eyes. “But this won’t be right until you know what you need.”
“I already know!”
“I don’t think you do. Not yet. You need to know the both of us. Caius…” he pauses, as though even saying his name causes him pain. “Caius loves you. You’ve known him your whole life, and yet he’s a stranger to you right now. You have to make sure that you’re not going to regret not getting to know him better before…”
“Before what?”
Ryka won’t answer me. He lets me go. Steps away. “Just do this, Kit. Do it for me. Get to know him.”
I’m so sick and tired of people walking away from me and yet that’s exactly what Ryka does next. “It’s not going to change anything,” I say. “I’m still going to feel this way.”
Ryka pauses as he reaches the doorway. He doesn’t turn around when he says, “I really hope you do.” I don’t want to watch him vanish into the darkness so I turn my back first. The fires are slowly going out one by one across the city. I walk to the very edge of the rooftop and climb up onto the stone ledge, swinging my legs over the other side. The wind carries voices to me as I watch the world turn black, and I feel desperately, painfully, agonisingly as though I’m falling.
Caius is the last person I want to see when I leave my room the next morning. His knuckles are raised—he was about to knock on my door.
“Morning.”
“Morning back.” I slip by him, trying to make myself small so our bodies don’t touch. “Have you seen Luke? He was gone when I woke up.”
“Yeah, he’s up with Opa on the roof again. I think he’s after my job.”
“I think you’re right.” Caius raises his eyebrows, an I-don’t-really-care gesture.
“It’s nice being outside all day, but I have to say…” he rolls his eyes at me, “it gets pretty boring. That’s actually what I was coming to talk to you about.”
“About boredom?” I jog down the stairs, my stomach growling. I need to stop and grab something for breakfast before I go looking for Luke. Caius follows close behind me.
“I had fun yesterday. I was wondering...”
Wondering doesn’t sound like a good thing. It sounds like trouble. “Wondering what?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to start training with me again. In the mornings maybe, before you have to teach. I could also help you out with that more permanently, if you like?”
So he basically wants to spend most of the day together, nearly every day. That’s how it used to be, but a lot has changed since then. I slow on the stairway, moving to one side as a group of four women pass us. They shoot me dirty looks, but Caius bears the brunt of it. I feel like slapping them when I realise that they think I’m up in the higher floors, rendezvousing with Caius instead of being with Ryka.
Screw them.
The jangle as they climb the stairs, bells everywhere, the sound ringing in my ears as I charge in the opposite direction. “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, Cai.” He’s trying to hide a small smile as he jogs down beside me. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because, Kit, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped to appreciate how much I like my name coming out of your mouth. It’s much better than Falin Asha, put it that way.” I don’t reply
to that. I might be forced to acknowledge that he gave me my own name if I do, and I really don’t want to travel down that path. It leads to a level of awkwardness I’m still not equipped to deal with.
“I don’t know if training again is such a good idea,” I tell him. We push into the canteen and the place is busy, full of people grabbing food before my class, or going off to the other checkpoints that have now been established throughout the city. Simone sits with James at the far side of the room. She gives me a small wave, which I return. James observes the interaction with a raised eyebrow.
“How is training every day not a good idea? You’re telling me you’re ready to fight right now if you have to? You don’t feel rusty?”
“I handled myself well enough yesterday, didn’t I?”
Caius laughs. “Barely. You didn’t beat me, and I am rusty.”
Maybe he’s right. I grab an apple and a warm bread roll from the baskets beyond the makeshift kitchen that’s been reclaimed from various levels throughout the building and brought back to life. Caius does the same. I stuff the apple into my mouth and leave the canteen and people’s curious glances behind me. Why can’t they all just mind their own damned business, anyway? I take the stairs two at a time, knowing that Caius is keeping pace. I don’t stop until I reach twenty-eight.
“Okay, we can train. But if it interferes with anything, with Luke or, or…” I’m just looking for excuses right now, and Caius knows it. He gives me a smug look. He’s been feeling for months longer than me, so he’s perfected things like that. I’m not there yet. Not even halfway there.
“Don’t worry, Kit. I will completely understand if your pressing responsibilities take you away. In the meantime, we can beat the guts out of each other and then teach others how to do the same. I’m looking forward to it.”