The Crimson Claw

by Deborah Chester

  As he selected a hassock instead and maneuvered it over to the table, the lamplight fell across his face and shoulders, illuminating him clearly for the first time.

  He was leggy and tall for a Kelth, thinner than he should have been. When he straightened and turned around, something about the twitching of his pointed, upright ears, something about the shape of his slim muzzle, something in his quick, sidelong glance made him look like someone she should know.

  Ampris stared at him, trying to grasp the memory without success. “What is your name?” she asked him.

  He glanced at her again, with that familiar darting, sideways cast of his eyes. “Don’t you remember me, Goldie? Don’t you remember the auction? You’ve come a long ways since then, you have.”

  The old nickname clicked everything into place for her. Recognition flooded her, and she gasped. “Elrabin!”

  His lips peeled back from his pointed teeth in a grin, and his eyes filled with a look of glinting mischief that she well recalled. “That’s me,” he said. “I was hoping you wouldn’t forget me.”

  Delighted, she rushed to him, ignoring his cautious flinch back, and slapped him on both shoulders. “Of course I remember you. How good it is to see you. I did not think we would meet again.”

  “No,” he said, glancing down shyly. “I didn’t think so either.”

  “But how do you come to be here?” she asked him. “Tell me your story. I thought you were sold to the gladiators. You should have been in the ring—”

  “I’d be dead by now, wouldn’t I?” he said. “Gladiator bait’s all I’m good for.”

  “Don’t say that. You’re quick and agile. You—”

  “Look, Goldie,” he said in a voice that stopped her. “I ain’t got the knack for fighting. Never did. But I got a head for details, and my talents work fine at this. Serving. It’s a relief to me, not to have my hide tacked on some gladiator’s door like a trophy.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that, so she smiled at him again. “I am so amazed that you are here, that we are here together. To see you again, after all this time—it’s astonishing. I feel that Fate must have brought us back together.”

  Elrabin’s ears twitched. Swiftly he clenched his fist, tapped it, and blew on it in a quick, superstitious motion that amused her. “Maybe it did.”

  She touched the Eye of Clarity hanging around her throat, wondering a little.

  Elrabin bent over the table and whipped the covers off the dishes with a little flourish. “So eat your grub before it gets cold. It’s good stuff, but you don’t get seconds.”

  Ampris needed no more persuasion. Ravenous, she seated herself at the table and dug in.

  Elrabin hovered over her, attentive and silent while she ate. He kept her cup replenished constantly from a carafe of the metallic-tasting, icy cold water.

  “No wine?” she asked, licking sauce from her mouth. “No mead? No imported ales?”

  Elrabin swiveled his ears back and blinked in visible consternation. “Uh, you’re in training now. No—”

  “Stop it,” she said playfully.

  “I think I can find a way into the kitchens after hours, but they count all the supplies, everything, twice a day. It could be hard to conceal a missing—”

  She realized he was seriously considering breaking into the kitchen stores to supply her request. She gripped his sleeve. “Elrabin, no. I was joking. I don’t drink wine. It makes my head too heavy.”

  Relief flooded his gaze and his thin shoulders straightened. “Well, I could do it, all right.”

  “Don’t,” she said, having visions of Elrabin being caught and chained for punishment. “It was a joke.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t seem sure. “You just let me know what you want, anytime you want it. I’ll find a way—”

  “Elrabin, I don’t expect you to get into trouble on my account.”

  “My job is to take care of you outside the ring,” he said. “Keep you fed, keep you warm, keep you happy. Whatever it takes—”

  “You’re my friend, not my slave,” she said sharply.

  He tilted his head to one side and stared at her hard. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No. You gotta be tough here, or you won’t last. You gotta play the games, learn the rules.”

  Ampris smiled slightly. “I am tough. I understand the games. I’m not the naive cub you met before.”

  “Maybe,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

  Now her smile did widen. “No maybe about it. Don’t worry about me.”

  “The Blues ain’t easy,” Elrabin said. “There’s things you don’t know yet, don’t understand yet.”

  She met his light brown eyes and ignored what he was trying to tell her. “You’re still my friend. That, I understand. I want you to understand it too. Now, sit with me. Eat some of this feast, and we’ll talk.”

  Elrabin smiled for a moment, then his ears swiveled back and he dropped his gaze from hers. “You’ve got a golden heart, haven’t you? Golden through and through. I’m glad you haven’t lost that.”

  It was her turn to be embarrassed and look away.

  “Thank you for saying what you did, Goldie,” he continued quietly. “It means a lot. But for my sake, you don’t let on that we’re friends or that we ever knew each other in the past life.”

  Her gaze snapped up, and they stared at each other in fresh understanding.

  “Does it have to be like that?” she asked. She glanced at her surroundings. “This is so pleasant, so private, like a dream.”

  “No dreams around here,” he said sharply. “You’ll see. They treat you like this”—he gestured at the luxurious room—“to make up for what you go through the rest of the time. The one I served before you, the last one to live here, she used to come in and wrap herself up in that bed and cry for hours, afterward. The arena is horrible, Goldie. Don’t you ever think different.”

  His warning was well-intentioned, but she didn’t need it.

  “I know what it’s like,” she said. The rest of what she could have said tangled inside her throat, and could not be uttered. She sighed. “I know.”

  Elrabin cleared his throat and busied himself stacking the emptied dishes. “You know about the training ring,” he said. “You ain’t seen the pros at work yet. It only gets worse. You—”

  “Elrabin,” she interrupted. “Stop. This is a good place for me.”

  “You don’t know about the surveillance, the—”

  “No,” she said sharply. “Don’t spoil it. Not tonight. I need to know that sometimes life can still be good.”

  He snorted. “Call yourself tough. You ain’t any tougher now than you were that night you wouldn’t eat in the auction pen.”

  She drew in a breath to argue, but then stopped herself.

  Maybe tomorrow she’d find out about the bad things he kept hinting at. Maybe tomorrow she’d be moved to the real training barracks to be fed hardtack and cold gruel before being hosed down with chemical sprays to keep off body vermin and sent forth for a long day of exercise and drills.

  She knew he wanted to lecture her against still believing in hopes, dreams, and goodness, against still being young and naive, against still wanting the impossible.

  There was a knot just at the base of her throat, jammed beneath the circle of her restraint collar. A knot of fear she couldn’t cope with, a knot she had to deny was there at all.

  And if Elrabin untied the knot, and let all her fears go spilling forth, she didn’t know what she would do.

  He picked up a piece of globular fruit and handed it to her. “Eat dessert while I fill the pool and heat your bath.”

  She laid the fruit on the table. “Elrabin,” she began, but he gave her a quick warning shake of his head and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

  Understanding his warning, Ampris knew better than to glance up in search of the surveillance device which must have been activated. She wondered how he knew. He would have to show he
r how to tell also.

  Backing her ears, she said, “A bath sounds wonderful. Prepare it at once.”

  An appreciative gleam entered Elrabin’s eyes. Bowing to hide his smirk, he did as he was told. Seconds later, she heard the rushing sound of water coming from the bathing chamber.

  Ampris ate her fruit, smacking her lips over its ripe, exotic taste. She couldn’t remember when she had eaten this well, yet the meal had not been heavy. She would sleep well tonight, and the good rest would help prepare her for whatever she had to face tomorrow.

  While she wandered around the sitting room, opening table drawers and exploring, Elrabin returned to clear the remnants of her dinner.

  She watched him work. His slender hands were deft and quick. He made almost no noise. Every movement was economical and efficient.

  “What will I do tomorrow?” she asked. “I was supposed to see the grounds today, but Ylea put a stop to that. Will you show me around?”

  Elrabin kept working, sweeping the cloth off the table with an expert flick, then folding it into a small bundle. “Me? No. Ain’t allowed on the training grounds,” he said. “Probably you’ll hit the outside ring, show off what you can do. The next day you’ll do weights and endurance in the gym. Then tumbling. By the end of the week, maybe the master will let you meet the others.”

  “Are they all like Ylea?”

  Elrabin kept his head down and his expression hidden, reminding her that they were still under observation. “The Blues are a good team,” he replied in a neutral voice. “The best. You’ll see.”

  She hated being spied on, hated the feeling of violation, of having her privacy stripped away. Of course they would spy on her, watch her to see how she behaved in private. They would want to know if she complained or plotted or sought escape when she thought herself alone. It took effort for her not to back her ears, but she kept them erect and forward.

  “It’s a big honor to fight with the Blues,” Elrabin said.

  He glanced up then, met her eyes, and rolled his.

  Ampris had to cough to conceal a laugh. Unable to mouth such platitudes in return, she changed the subject. “So what’s in the vid cabinet? When will I be allowed to leave my quarters? I’d like to take a walk, stretch my legs. I’ve been cooped up too long. I need to move.”

  “Tomorrow you’ll get to move plenty,” Elrabin told her. “There’s a couple of vids in the cabinet. You let me know what you like, and I’ll see that you get it. The better you fight, the more rewards you get.”

  Picking up the heavy tray of dishes, he pulled out a transmitter and unlocked the door.

  Watching, Ampris wondered if he would give her that transmitter if she decided to escape.

  “Elrabin,” she said, then stopped, not knowing what she wanted to ask.

  He glanced over his shoulder and gave her one of his sidelong grins. “You’ll get used to it, Goldie,” he said softly. “Now, bathe and get some sleep. You need to be fit, in case you run into Ylea in the morning and she decides to sit on you again.”

  So that was to be a standing joke. Good enough. Grinning back, Ampris watched him go through the doorway, quick as smoke. Her amusement lasted until she heard the locks snap on. Then her grin changed to a silent snarl.

  She paced around the sitting room, restless and far from sleepy. She intended to do what she was told. For now, she would be a good gladiator, a quiet gladiator. She would perform her practice drills. She would obey her orders. She would stay fit and sleek.

  But there had to be a way out of this luxurious prison. Someday, hopefully soon, she would find it.

  CHAPTER•THREE

  An insistent tapping roused Ampris from deep, dreamless sleep.

  She rolled over, refusing to open her eyes, and burrowed deeper beneath the coverlet.

  “Ampris!” said a voice. A hand gripped her shoulder and shook her hard. “Hey, Goldie, wake up!”

  Startled, Ampris sat bolt upright and looked around wildly. For an instant she did not recognize where she was. “Where’s the bell? How long till inspection?” she mumbled, rubbing her face.

  “What inspection?” Elrabin countered. “Flash those big browns around and figure out where you are.”

  But by this time Ampris already had. She lifted her arms and stretched deep and long until her joints creaked. The smell of food tickled her nostrils, and she sneezed in anticipation.

  “Is it morning?” she asked, looking toward the small window and seeing only darkness.

  Elrabin flung open the doors of the chest and rummaged through drawers. Pulling something out, he rolled it into a ball and threw it at her.

  Ampris caught the clothing just before it hit her in the face. “What kind of service is this?”

  “Hurried. Get moving,” he said, pulling out a training harness. He turned with it jingling in his hands and bared his teeth at her. “It’s daybreak. You have to be on the training grounds by the time the suns top the horizon. If you’re late, I get the beating. So move your fur, will you?”

  But Ampris was used to having less time to roll out, throw icy water in her face to smooth down her fur, and bolt down cold, unappetizing food before heading at a run for practice.

  Here, she didn’t have to worry about making her bunk. She didn’t have to wait in line for the hygiene closet. Her breakfast was served hot and delicious on a spotless platter.

  Garbed in the unfamiliar coverall that Elrabin had given her, Ampris found it clung too tightly to her body, making her fur itch underneath. It was made of a strange, stretchy fabric, web-thin, yet incredibly tough and resilient.

  She plucked at her sleeve. “What is this?”

  Elrabin crossed the sitting room with her training harness in his hands. “What do you think?”

  “Sensor web?” she guessed.

  He nodded, intent on adjusting her harness to fit her better.

  She’d heard of sensor suits on vidcasts, chiefly because of controversy over whether they should be allowed in arena competition, but there’d been none at Bizsi Mo’ad. “Does it work?”

  Elrabin finished with the last buckle and held the harness up against her to see if he had the size right. “No, you have to wear it because the master likes the color. Of course it works! Everything here is state of the art, see? At least when it comes to you fighters.”

  Nodding, she went back to her breakfast, swallowing the last flavorful morsel and letting the taste linger on her tongue. “This is so good. I haven’t eaten this well since—” She broke off abruptly and stood up, making her amulet swing around her neck.

  “Better tuck that piece of fancy inside the web,” Elrabin advised her. “Especially if it’s your good luck. You don’t want to lose it in training. And don’t let Ylea try to take it from you.”

  Ampris narrowed her eyes. “No one will take it from me,” she said grimly. “It’s an Eye of Clarity, and it—”

  Elrabin grimaced suddenly and tilted his head away from her as though listening to something.

  Puzzled, Ampris stared at him. She heard nothing, but perhaps his ears were keener. “What is it?”

  But he was already straightening and turning to face her. He stood erect, with his thin shoulders pulled back. His eyes grew veiled.

  “Time’s up,” he said. He held up the harness and helped her shrug it on.

  Realizing that the surveillance of her quarters must have been switched on, Ampris found herself dying to ask him how he knew it, but she dared say nothing that might get him in trouble.

  Elrabin finished buckling the harness for her. It fit too snugly over the sensor web, and she backed her ears in annoyance, not liking it. She slid her fingers under the straps, tugging.

  “Too stiff,” she said. “Too tight.”

  “It’s new. You’ll break it in soon enough,” he replied without sympathy and gestured toward the door.

  As she headed to it, he pulled out the transmitter from his pocket and disengaged the locks.

  “Good training today,”
he said formally, bowing as she stepped across the threshold.

  Ampris glanced back at him. As he started to close the door behind her, he stepped close and whispered in her ear, “Watch your back. Ylea’s blaming you for her whipping.”

  “I knew it—”

  “Hush!” He lowered his voice even more. “She won’t get to you today, but Ruar’s on her side.”

  “He—”

  “Don’t trust the old odger, see? Now forget him. He’s nothing as long as you keep an eye on him.”

  “Thanks,” she said, feeling nervous about what lay ahead of her.

  “Yeah. And watch your step with Halehl. He’s meaner than you think.”

  She drew breath to ask him questions, but his expression changed and he straightened away from her.

  “Hey, Ruar,” he said. “Good daybreak to you.”

  Hastening up with a long leather strap coiled in his knobby hands, Ruar scowled and grunted a response.

  “Hello, Ruar,” Ampris said.

  Shaking back his scraggly mane, he ignored her and clipped one end of the leather strap to her harness.

  Affronted, she stiffened in protest. “I don’t have to be led. Take this off at once.”

  As she spoke she reached for the snap, but a tiny spark jumped from it and bit her fingers.

  Wincing in more surprise than pain, she glared at him and shook her smarting fingers.

  Ruar curled his broad lips back from his teeth and held up a transmitter. “I control your restraint collar too, so no bad talk from you today, no trouble.”

  Fuming, she opened her mouth to tell him what he could do with his transmitters and collars, but Ruar waved the transmitter at her in warning, and she remained silent.

  Her temper, however, was boiling. There was no need to leash her and restrain her like some wild animal.

  “Today, I take you where to go,” Ruar said, leading her away.

  Ampris glanced back over her shoulder, certain Elrabin was watching her humiliation, but he had already vanished inside her quarters with a firm snap of the door.

  “Tomorrow, you will know,” Ruar went on, tugging at her to quicken her steps. “Tomorrow you will go by yourself. Nowhere else will you go. You will be trusted, and you will cause no trouble.”