Trish Abercrombie turned out to be one of these louder fighters. On top of wearing tight, skimpy clothing, she wore copious amounts of jewelry and made a big display of shouting her own name whenever possible. She and her two handmaids even had the word “TRISH” in rhinestones across the legs of their tight shorts. I wandered over to her, er, throne room, which consisted of a few stray falsebone crates arranged to create a big chair that stretched outwards in a semi-circular fashion, making a cleared space for all Trish’s adoring fans, none of which seemed to have shown up on this particular evening, to approach their queen. The crate throne was covered with a thick, velvet blanket that had definitely seen better days. Trish sat in it haughtily, not taking any notice of how shabby the whole thing looked. I spent some time watching her movements, trying to see what Ariadne saw.
The rhinestone queen overall looked like more show than go, but she was tall with three long, strong-ish arms. Yes, three. Technically the third one, coming out of her left shoulder, was an organism all to itself with a unique genetic code and falsebone structure. It merely obeyed the commands of its host body, Trish. It probably shared her pulmonary system. It wasn’t a great graft, however, because it looked more like the greenish organic floor than Trish’s tanned skin. She waved a bejeweled hand almost elegantly in the air, gesturing back and forth to her handmaids, having them fetch everything from coffee to what I was pretty certain was illegal drugs.
Who was I to judge? Actually, I was exactly there to judge. The drugs could prove useful to Ariadne. I pondered my options. It was likely Trish was on stimulants given the fact that her heart now pumped for an extra, mostly parasitic, limb and she needed the boost in heartrate during a fight. Of course, this was only one of a million other options it could be. The only way I could know for sure was to get up close.
I ducked out of sight for a moment into a pile of tarped debris. I pulled out the pocket mirror I always carried and carefully smudged some of the eyeliner I had on across my lower lids. In the area’s relatively low light, I’d look just drug-addict enough. Wiping my fingers, I stumbled back toward Trish and her handmaids.
Well, they were more like bodyguards, only a little less built than their charge.
“I just wanna see Trish,” I said in the whiniest voice I could muster as the handmaids/former bodybuilders locked tight hands around my arms.
“She isn’t in the mood for company,” one of the handmaids hissed. She was very threatening, but not very scary with the glitter lipstick she wore.
“But I—” I whined again. This time the handmaids decided to toss me as far as they could, which ended up being a dozen feet or so as I slid across the decaying and slimy epidermis. I was not about to give up, however.
“Fine! If that’s the way you want it,” I declared, and picked myself up clumsily, staggering back toward the handmaids. While I could use the shock device to bully my way past these two, I preferred to be invited in by Trish due to my fanaticism for her and the fact I was a druggie willing to put up a fight. I hoped she’d consider me something of a withdrawal-ridden pet, but for the most part she just eyed the situation with an unreadable expression.
I continued stalking toward the handmaids who were braced for whatever I had coming. My purposefully ill-fated punch was easily dodged, one handmaid to one side and one to the other. The one on my right caught hold of my punching arm and tripped up my right leg. I didn’t go very far as the one on my left caught hold of my left leg and a handful of hair.
“Owww!” I howled indignantly, trying to scratch at any exposed skin I could find. While I landed a few embarrassing hits on the handmaids, they had me completely secure. “Just let me see herrrr.”
“Come now, ladies, let’s all play fair,” Trish finally said from her throne. It was a relatively bored tone, but a wave of her hand called off the handmaid-bodybuilding-bodyguards and beckoned me forward. I stumbled and stuttered a little, putting on what I’d hoped was a good show. I finally made it to Trish’s feet where, with some unwarranted assistance from the handmaids, I fell flat on my face.
“Get up, idiot,” Trish said. I stood up slowly, painting my slimy face with awe.
“Trish Abercrombie,” I whispered vainly.
“Obviously. Now what do you want from me?” Trish said impatiently.
“Oh, you’re my idol,” I said in a hushed tone. “I’ve always admired you but never got the courage to come see you.”
“I gathered that when you screamed my name. Now you are here, what do you want?” the extra-armed woman looked an awful lot like a scorpion up close.
“Just to sit next to you,” I ducked my head down respectfully. “Before your next fight.”
Trish flattened her eyebrows at me, but sighed and waved to an empty, velvet-less crate that made up part of her throne.
I eagerly sat down and for a long while just stared at Trish adoringly. It wasn’t too difficult to stay in character. I just sat there and stayed quiet like a good subject in Trish’s kingdom. A few other fans came up to wish Trish luck, but most spectators were paying more attention to the good time they were having than the actual fighters. I watched Trish’s reaction to this apathy. She covered up her disappointment well, scowling and yelling at her handmaids to obey whatever whim managed to cross her mind. I saw the disappointment behind her eyes, however.
After the seventh or eighth spectator passed by without even glancing in Trish’s direction, the rhinestone queen glanced in my direction. Her expression was almost relieved. In that moment, I felt like scum. Here Trish was, hoping for at least one real fan, and I was taking advantage of that to betray her wholeheartedly.
Ariadne needed the information, I reminded myself, I’d just have to suck it up.
“So, how long have you been a fan?” Trish asked.
“Ever since the first time I saw you,” I said confidently.
“When was that?” the three-armed woman asked.
“Um…” I said, going a little glassy-eyed and starting off at some patch of floor. “I don’t remember. I’m not very good with the days.”
Trish raised an eyebrow almost in pity and left me in silence again. I sat there for what felt like almost an hour, watching and listening to people come and go around Trish. It wasn’t until a few minutes before the fight that something actually happened. Trish glanced down at my jittery foot, which I’d been twitching to stave off boredom and make my whole drug-addict cover a bit more believable.
“Nerves?” Trish asked. “When was your last fix?”
“I dunno. Tuesday?” I scratched my head.
“Here,” Trish handed me one of the pills she had gotten earlier. “I always take these before a fight. It calms everything down.”
I accepted the pill, sticking it in my mouth and pretending to swallow.
“Thank you,” I said, having tucked the pill beside my tongue and out of sight.
“Wouldn’t want my best fan so twitchy she couldn’t see straight,” Trish smirked.
I kicked myself inwardly, praying that I’d never have to go undercover and completely ruin someone’s day ever again.
“I’ll see you around,” the three-armed woman said, rising to leave and patting my shoulder. I nodded exaggeratedly. The minute she was out of sight, I spit out the pill, wishing for a tall glass of water to rise my mouth out.
I continued to spit as I made a mad dash toward Ariadne, who I found bouncing up and down at one of the silo’s old doorways. It was covered by a tattered sheet, ready to be pulled back at the start of the fight.
“Where’ve you been?” she demanded as I approached.
“Scouting. Trish has two things: an extra arm and a drug problem,” I said quickly.
“What drugs?” the princess asked. As if on cue, the whole world went a little quieter and calmer. This was the exact opposite of what was actually going on, since Ariadne and I were standing smack-dab in the middle of a raucous crowd that was pushing and shoving mercilessly to get at the best rust-holes.
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br /> “Downers,” I said thickly and blinking a lot. I hadn’t swallowed the pill, but some of it had probably been absorbed by my mouth.
“I realize we are already knee-deep in illegal here, but what did you—” Ariadne began to shout.
“Nothing, I didn’t even swallow it,” I said, feeling inappropriately calm. “Just focus on the three-armed lady you’ll have to fight.”
“If she’s got a third arm, why’s she on downers?” Ariadne asked. I shrugged helplessly.
The princess looked at me almost petulantly, but nodded and turned back to the curtain.
The subtle bell finally rang for the 0300 fight. No loud announcers like the semi-professionals had, because even though we were tucked fairly far into the uppermost shelf, the sound could still carry into Myrkheim’s center and alert the authorities. The curtains for Ariadne and Trish’s doors opened up, allowing the fighters to take their positions. The crowd almost pushed me into the ring, trying to get as close to the door’s threshold as possible. I stood my ground. Being associated with one of the fighters, I’d earned my prime seating. Plus I didn’t have the wherewithal to actually think about sinking into the crowds.
Of course, I wished I hadn’t decided to stay in the doorway as Trish saw me. I could hear her growl from across the silo and throw what were probably a few choice words in my direction. I shrugged harmlessly, which only irritated her more. I’d have feared her handmaids, who were standing at the other doorway, undoubtedly plotting a reprisal against me, but as thick as the crowds were, anyone standing at the doorways was completely boxed in.
The fight began as the bell rang again. Trish immediately crouched down and began to make laps around the silo. I was afraid she might burst out of those bedazzled shorts of hers, but they held together pretty well. Ariadne just followed the circle, looking tense but not overly aggressive. Actually, it was much more passive than aggressive. I agreed with this strategy, playing defense was always my preferred role.
Of course, having an older brother that wouldn’t let me start any fights probably helped with that.
Unsurprisingly, it was Trish that made the first move, lunging at Ariadne. The princess barely had to move to avoid being caught by the three-armed maniac, who left an opening large enough for an insensate mining mite to find. Ariadne, to her credit, seemed to notice the opening, but didn’t react quite as strongly as either I or a bunch of random people in the stands would have liked, as we all shouted, “Get her!”
Ariadne didn’t even purse her lips in frustration. If nothing else, she had been well-trained to maintain her calm in the midst of a fight and observe her opponent. I’d learned how to take a beating the hard way, so my calm was less calculating and more waiting for the storm to pass. The princess waited for a good opening in Trish’s defenses and then exploited it, landing a punch across Trish’s right cheek.
Trish howled, an overreaction given the fact that Ariadne had barely been able to put any force into the hit. The rhinestone queen/scorpion began to hit more erratically, trying desperately to avenge Ariadne’s love tap. I frowned as the bespangled woman’s actions became more and more chaotic. It was as if she was trying too hard to win the fight, a fact Ariadne seemed to recognize and exploit as she landed more and more powerful punches in rapid succession. The princess even managed to catch hold of Trish’s wrist and twist, forcing the rhinestone queen into a flip which ended in her landing hard on her backside. Since the epidermis in this area was mostly rotted away, Trish landed on falsebone with a thin veneer of remaining tissue, which hurt a great deal more than if she’d landed on healthy epidermis. By the end of five minutes, Trish had a swollen eye and busted lip to prove where she’d been that evening while Ariadne only had one small cut after being accidentally scratched by one of Trish’s rings.
It was right as I thought this would be an easy fight that I realized the reason for Trish’s downers. She was a hyperactive individual during a fight who hadn’t learned control properly. She got way too excited and that led to chaos and losing. So instead of taking up an apprenticeship with a real fighter and learning control, she decided to self-medicate, downers being the substance of choice. The minute they kicked in, a switch was flipped in Trish’s head, she suddenly became cold, calculating, and far more dangerous.
This made Trish’s next attacks far less sloppy than previously.
The princess barely had time to flinch as Trish’s downers kicked in. She managed to dodge the scorpion’s two human arms, but the parasitic arm caught a handful of Araidne’s shirt. The arm was probably not great at fine motor movement or reflexes, but its grip was undoubtedly tight and it didn’t let go of Ariadne as Trish caught the princess with her other hands. Trish then put her whole body into flinging Ariadne across the silo. The crowd went wild, cheering or booing depending on who they’d put the most money on.
Most of them were cheering.
Ariadne picked herself back up, wiping some of the organic goo off her face. She seemed mostly undaunted by Trish’s sudden personality change. The princess once again took up a defensive position. Trish, however, didn’t seem to care what posture Ariadne took as she continued to use the parasitic arm to her advantage. Plus, she was playing to the crowd, soaking in their adulation as she now carefully dodged Ariadne’s blows. It was not looking good for Team King.
Of course, even the most praising of crowds can get bored. Apparently just watching Trish toss Ariadne around was boring and more than a few cried foul on the subject.
“C’mon! Let’s see a fight,” a raptor-tattooed fan with garlic-breath called out beside me. I moved a little farther away from him.
Finally, Ariadne was forced close enough to the threshold for me to talk to her as Trish took a minute to pose for the crowd.
“I hate drugs,” the princess said, picking herself up off the floor again.
“Join the club,” I said, scooting as close to the threshold as I could without actually stepping across it. Violating the threshold meant I’d be counted as one of the fighters, so I worked very hard to stay on the correct side. Not that that did me much good when someone decided to push me into the silo anyway.
“I can take care of this!” Ariadne said angrily as I caught my footing several steps into the arena.
“This wasn’t my idea!” I said, scrambling back to the doorframe only to find it packed with a group of sneering punks. I landed a punch at one of them in anger, but all he did was grin at me through bloodied teeth.
“You’re part of the fight now, princess,” Trish said, looking my way. Of course I was the one who had embarrassed her publicly.
“Actually she’s the—” I started, as the scorpion crossed over to where I was standing in a few long strides. I got my hands up in time to avoid most of the slap from her parasitic arm. She didn’t seem to care, however, as her knee came up to my stomach. I gasped loudly, trying to catch hold of something I could use as leverage against her. I came up empty as Trish began to pound me with more than one of her arms at a time. I finally tried rolling into her. Height wasn’t exactly an advantage in her case. While she was much better at protecting her middle after the downers kicked in, she still left a lot open and vulnerable.
As she seemed to be trying to keep me at arm’s length, I ran toward her. I pounded as much as I could into her midsection, which felt like punching granite. Given the parasitic arm, she might’ve also had illegal falsebone plating grafted to her important areas like a built-in suit of armor. Since I couldn’t feel any individual ribs when I punched her, I assumed this was correct. That meant I would have to aim somewhere I knew it would be difficult to implant falsebone grafts, like her face. My fist connected with her jaw solidly which, as I had guessed, was not reinforced with falsebone. The scorpion threw me backwards to blink away the hit. As I skidded up to the metallic wall of the silo, I saw Ariadne run full-speed at the back of Trish.
“Watch that arm!” I started to shout as Trish’s parasitic arm, not bound by the same bone structure
as normal arms, twisted backward toward the incoming Ariadne even as the scorpion began to turn around.
Fortunately, I was mistaken in the idea that Ariadne hadn’t seen the issue. Instead of barreling into Trish at full-speed, the princess dropped into a slide, catching hold of the scorpion’s parasitic arm and pulling it downward. Trish’s head snapped up and back as the parasitic arm was pulled down and under by Ariadne, whose slide ended as she collided with Trish’s legs. There was a loud pop as at least one of the parasitic arm’s joints snapped out of place. Movement stopped altogether as Trish’s head came down on the organic floor sharply and Ariadne shoved the dazed woman out of the way.
“Oh,” the crowd gasped in surprise. Ariadne took half a second to collect herself before planting on the biggest, cockiest grin I had ever seen.
“Is that all you got?” she yelled out, much to the delight of the crowd who began to cheer or boo loudly. The princess literally swaggered up to where I was sitting and helped me up, grin still plastered on her face. She made me face the crowd, throwing our arms in the air in victory.
We strode out of the silo just as the subtle bell signaled our victory and Trish’s bodyguards ran over to their wounded fighter. We managed to avoid killing scowls from Trish’s bodyguards simply because they were too busy trying to get the wounded fighter out of the arena. She was just beginning to regain consciousness, which meant that things were going to hurt.
Although not a natural part of Trish’s human body, there were enough connected nerves to make damage to the parasitic arm painful to the host. There had to be in order to control the arm with any measure of success, a fact that Trish demonstrated as her daze wore off and she howled in pain.
Of course, it’s a lot easier to hear someone howl when they’re not being drowned out by a loud, unruly audience. It took me a minute to figure out if the commotion was good or bad, but as with the conclusion with any fight, it was pretty much half and half with some people threatening Ariadne and my guts and some patting us on the back, declaring us their new favorites. Even the guy I’d punched seemed pleased we’d beaten Trish. Ariadne and I muscled our way through the crowds toward Aether, who was swamped with winners and losers.
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