Archibald Lox and the Vote of Alignment

by Darren Shan

  “Hotcats?” I blink.

  “Our equivalent of hotdogs,” Inex whispers. “You can’t watch grop without tucking into a hotcat.”

  While I’m wondering what a hotcat looks and tastes like, one of the larger Merged players goes down and groans, signalling for assistance.

  A medic hurries to the injured player, who points at his ankle. The medic treats it, but the player grimaces when he gets up and tells the captain he can’t continue. The captain heads for the area where I’m standing with Inez, Kurtis... and Cal.

  “We need a blocker,” the captain shouts. “Any volunteers?”

  Several bulky men and women roar their willingness to get involved. The captain nods as if weighing up his options, but then Cal raises a hand, and I know there was never any doubt about who he was going to pick.

  “I’ve found my man,” the captain says, waving Cal forward.

  “Wait a minute,” the SubMerged captain huffs, striding towards Cal. “Have you been remoulded?”

  “No,” Cal says. “Test me if you want. If I’m lying, you can throw me into a river of blood without any resistance.”

  The SubMerged captain scowls. “No need to bite my head off. The size of you... Anyone in my position would have asked.”

  “Maybe,” Cal says, cracking his knuckles. “Just don’t ask again.”

  Cal sets off with the Merged captain, furiously discussing tactics.

  “What was that about?” I ask Inez.

  “Players used to get remoulded,” she says, “longer legs, extra muscles in their arms and so on. It added to the spectacle, but then it got ridiculous — you had giants who could score from their own endline. The gropmeisters banned performance-enhancing remoulds, but occasionally a cheat will try to pass as normal.”

  “How can you know if a person’s genuine or not?” I ask.

  “The gropmeisters can run checks,” she says.

  I lower my voice so that Kurtis can’t hear. “Cal’s a plant. The captain caught his eye before the last score. I don’t think that blocker was really injured.”

  “I know,” Inez chuckles.

  “Isn’t that cheating too?” I ask.

  Inez sniffs. “It’s not entirely in keeping with the spirit of grop, but it’s not illegal. The SubMerged won’t complain.”

  As she’s saying that, Cal finishes chatting with the captain, who sends nine of his players to the sidelines, leaving them with a squad of just seven players.

  The SubMerged captain is caught off guard. He had the right to determine the numbers, since his team scored the last point, but didn’t bother to make any changes. He’s not sure how to react. He talks it over with his teammates, then sends eight players off. Once they’re gone, the Merged captain lobs the grop into the air.

  “GROP!” we all roar.

  And the fightback begins.

  13

  THE MERGED STORM UP the pitch, Cal in the centre, three players to either side.

  “It’s odd that they’re sticking together,” Inez says. “Usually when a team drops to a low number, it’s to spread out play and create gaps.”

  “We have seven defensive players on our team,” Kurtis grins. “I don’t fancy your chances in a head-on collision.”

  The teams clash. The SubMerged captain tackles Cal, but he’s underestimated the big man. Cal knocks him aside with a punch, then poleaxes the nearest player. Before the rest of the team can react, he wrestles a third blocker to the ground.

  The SubMerged are in shock and Cal’s teammates seize the moment. There are only four SubMerged blockers left. Cal and the others keep them busy while the Merged captain and a bird dance past and head for the nearest tree. The SubMerged bird doesn’t even try to intercept them.

  The captain isn’t a chucker, but with no one to oppose him, he casually hoists the bird into the air and she scores.

  Eleven-five, and the slightest ripple of hope washes through the crowd.

  The SubMerged win the next point after a massive battle, but our team then scores four times without reply, making it twelve-nine. Cal’s at the heart of everything, bullying the opposition and advising the captain to bring on or withdraw players after every score.

  I’m cheering non-stop, along with all the Merged. The atmosphere has flipped on its head and that’s given the players confidence. They’re winning duels which they were losing earlier, feeding off the energy of the fans.

  “What do you think our chances look like now?” I ask Kurtis.

  He grimaces. “This is only a practice match. The result isn’t important.” But I can tell he’s sick inside, especially as he’s the one who brought Cal to the match.

  On the pitch, Cal makes a rare slip. He tackles a SubMerged who has possession of the grop and wrings it from his hands, but he’s on his way down and can’t release it to a teammate. The grop smashes, resulting in a penalty for the SubMerged. They chance a long-range shot and score.

  Thirteen-nine.

  Half-time.

  The players shuffle off. The Merged are buzzing, despite the fact that they lost the last point and are four behind. They believe the second half will be very different to the first.

  The SubMerged, on the other hand, are wrecked, and it’s plain to even a newbie like me that they’re in trouble.

  “We should have placed a bet,” I say to Kurtis.

  “Too late for that now,” he says sourly.

  “You don’t fancy a small wager?”

  A dirty look is his answer.

  “Now, now,” Inez chuckles. “Be gracious, Archie. Kurtis didn’t crow when they were winning...”

  “We’re still winning,” Kurtis reminds her.

  “...so you shouldn’t crow when we pull ahead,” she finishes with a smirk.

  “I’m outnumbered,” Kurtis laughs. “I’ll get the hotcats and leave you to relive the highlights. The way things are shaping up, the cat might be the only highlight of my day.”

  Inez and I talk about the match while he’s gone, and she explains more of the rules to me. Then she starts chatting with a woman. They compare this with other matches they’ve seen and try to guess what the final score will be.

  I look for Kurtis and spot him in a line outside a house — the residents cook up the hotcats and dispense them from a window. There are several customers ahead of him, so it’ll be a few minutes before he returns. I cast my gaze round, looking for people with moon-shaped faces or other weird, remoulded features. The SubMerged supporters are mixed in with the Merged, which surprises me. I thought there’d be separate sections for the fans, but it looks like grop brings everyone together peacefully.

  I’m idly scanning the crowd when my gaze settles on a couple of figures flanking the exit, and all thoughts of the match vanish in an instant.

  The men are positioned on either side of the alley, scrutinising everyone who passes. People must sense that they’re not to be trifled with, because even though it’s chaotic over there, everyone carefully edges past them, keeping well out of their reach.

  One of the men is pale, the other dark-skinned. They’re dressed all in white – suits, ties, shoes – and there’s an odd, crescent-shaped swath of dyed white hair running across their foreheads.

  I’ve seen these men before, on the bridge in London where all this first began, and on the river of blood in Diamond when they attacked with a pack of demonic hell jackals.

  They’re Orlan Stiletto and Argate Axe, the killers who’ve been hunting for Inez. To my shock and dismay, they’ve tracked her down again, and since they’re guarding the only way in and out of this place, there’s nowhere for us to run. It’s only a matter of time before they isolate us, move in and start painting the pitch red with their blades and our blood.

  THREE — THE UNRAVELLER

  14

  I FEEL AS IF I’M ABOUT to throw up, so I look away and take deep breaths, closing my eyes, waiting for the sensation to pass. When I feel normal again – but still with a tight, scared knot in my stomac
h – I force myself to check to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.

  No, it’s definitely Orlan and Argate.

  That’s the bad news.

  The good news is their weapons aren’t drawn, and they don’t seem to be aware of our position, or they’d be pushing their way through to us.

  Then again, they don’t really have to come to us, since as I already noted, they’re blocking the only way out.

  I wait for Inez to finish talking to the woman, then whisper, “Don’t panic, but your boyfriend’s betrayed us.”

  “Kurtis isn’t my boyfriend,” Inez scowls. Then she processes the rest of what I said, or maybe reads the terror in my expression, and asks, “What’s wrong?”

  “Orlan Stiletto and Argate Axe are here.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Where?”

  “The alley.”

  She stands on her toes, holds that pose for several seconds, then sinks back down.

  “This is bad,” she croaks.

  “No kidding.” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

  Inez frowns. “What makes you think this has anything to do with Kurtis?”

  “He brought us here.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s working with them. He thinks I’m Mary Fitzpatrick, a seamstress.”

  “Does he?” I grunt. “Maybe he saw through your disguise and set you up.”

  “Where is he?” she asks.

  “In the line for hotcats.”

  Inez raises an eyebrow. “You think he’d be patiently waiting for fast food if he knew the net was about to close on us? And why would they try to take us here in the middle of a crowd, instead of when we were sleeping on the lot, if Kurtis knew who we are and had told them?” She stands on her toes again for another look, then shakes her head. “They don’t look poised for action. I think they’re here on a random scouting mission.”

  “So what are we going to do?” I ask.

  “Wait,” she says. “Watch the game, then stream out with everybody else.”

  “What if they spot us?”

  “They won’t recognise me with my new features.”

  “What about me?”

  “You were wrapped up when we fought them on the river of blood. They never saw your face”

  “But they saw me on the bridge in London,” I remind her.

  “They won’t remember a Born boy from one brief, meaningless encounter way back,” she says.

  “They might,” I squeak.

  “And a solarista might fall from a vine high above us and squash you,” she says, “but it’s highly unlikely.”

  “I don’t like this,” I whimper.

  “Me neither,” she sighs, “but if we try to sneak out, we’ll attract their attention. Trust me, Archie, when your enemy doesn’t know you’re in front of him, keep your chin up and calmly walk by.”

  I gulp. I don’t know if I’ll be able to maintain a cool front when it’s time to walk past the killers, but I’ll give it a shot.

  Kurtis returns a minute later and hands us a hotcat each. He’s already wolfed a third of his.

  “Not the best I’ve tasted,” he mumbles, “but I’ve had worse.”

  Despite everything that’s happening, I’m curious about the hotcat. It looks like a hotdog, only the bun is made from a coarse, dark material and the cat is a greenish colour, covered in a mustard-like sauce. I take a sceptical bite but it’s quite nice.

  The SubMerged get the second half underway and Cal barrels towards them, leading his team of determined players. I follow proceedings with only a vaguely interested eye, constantly checking on the killers in case they’ve moved, but they’re still standing there, calm as a pair of tigers, keeping watch.

  We score four points and the SubMerged get two. Then, in the middle of a play, while the SubMerged are frantically defending, there’s a disturbance in the crowd.

  “What’s happened to your face?” a woman shouts and thumps the arm of a splotchy, elderly man.

  Rumours ripple through the crowd while the woman carries on arguing with the sheepish-looking man.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Kurtis listens to the mutterings around us and laughs. “The old guy remoulded himself to look young and handsome. His girlfriend thought he was in his prime, but the remould unravelled a minute ago and his true face was revealed.”

  “How did that happen?” I ask.

  “It wasn’t a permanent remould,” Kurtis says. “Every temporary face unravels in the end.”

  “That’s true,” Inez murmurs to me, “but it’s strange that it should happen in the middle of this game, isn’t it?”

  I blink at her, not sure what she means.

  Inez casts her gaze around, starting with the old man and fanning out from there. A moment later she directs my attention towards a sharp-faced woman nudging her way through the crowd. The woman’s hands are splayed and she’s touching everyone she passes, very lightly — most people are unaware of the contact.

  “An unraveller,” Inez whispers, and looks to the opposite side of the pitch. A few seconds later she points out a man passing through the spectators, gently touching as many of them as he can. “Another,” Inez says, her jaw trembling.

  “Who are they?” I hiss as an oblivious Kurtis focuses on the match.

  “Unravellers,” Inez says, her lips barely moving. “They have the ability to reverse a remould. They can’t undo a permanent change, but if it’s a temporary tweak, like the old man’s – or mine – their touch unravels the work of the remoulder. They must be in league with Orlan and Argate. I bet they’ve been circling the city, going wherever there are crowds, hoping to get lucky and catch me.” She curses. “I was right about them not knowing I’m here – they’d lock the place down if they had even an inkling – but when that woman brushes against me, my true identity will be revealed. Then we’re in real trouble,” she adds, and fearful tears glitter in her wild, desperate eyes.

  15

  “WHAT ARE WE GOING TO do?” I hiss, concerned by the way that Inez has frozen.

  “I don’t know,” she moans, sounding very unlike her normal self.

  “Inez,” I whisper, figuring she’s more likely to respond to that than her fake name. When she doesn’t react, I grab her hand and squeeze hard. She winces, then focuses. “I’ll attack the unraveller, grab hold of her and start shouting, drag her onto the pitch. Orlan and Argate will think she’s trapped someone and come running to investigate. You can slip away in the confusion.”

  Inez stares at me. “You can’t,” she breathes.

  “I must,” I say glumly. “I’ll pretend I thought she was a thief. If we’re lucky, they’ll let me go.”

  “They’re not stupid,” Inez says. “They’ll assume you were a distraction and torture you to find out what you know.”

  I shrug, trying not to let her see how scared I am. “As long as you don’t return to the thesps, I won’t be able to tell them where to find you. Hide somewhere safe, then do what you have to on the day of the vote.”

  I turn to face the unraveller, who’s drawing closer. I’m trying not to shake, but it’s hard.

  “Wait,” Inez says.

  “Don’t try to stop me,” I murmur. “You might succeed.”

  “I can’t let you do this, Archie.”

  I cast a weak smile her way. “It’s for the princess.”

  Inez nods gravely. “That’s why I can’t let you go.”

  “She’s more important than me,” I say bravely.

  “Of course she is,” Inez says, “but I need you to get into Canadu.”

  “You’ll find another locksmith.”

  “No. You’re the only person who can help me. So let’s think of another way out of this.”

  “We’ll have to be quick,” I tell her. “The unraveller will be on us soon.”

  Inez lowers her gaze, thinking furiously. This is more like the girl I’ve come to know, and even though the situation is growing graver by the second, I s
tart to feel a flicker of confidence, the way the Merged did when Cal took to the...

  My eyes widen as a crazy idea forms and I look across the pitch. The Merged scored as we were talking and the beaming players are returning to their end. Cal is with the captain, discussing how many players to add or drop from the team.

  “Cal!” I roar but he doesn’t hear me. “Cal!” I shout again, waving my arms over my head until he notices and trots across.

  “What are you up to?” Kurtis asks.

  “Keep the dukeling busy for a few seconds,” I growl at Inez and she takes Kurtis aside without asking why, smiling sultrily to distract him.

  “That was a great point, wasn’t it?” Cal beams.

  “Never mind that,” I pant. “In– I mean, Mary is in trouble.”

  Cal immediately slips into guardian mode. “Who do you want me to hit?”

  “Nobody,” I say, afraid that he’d come to harm at the hands of the armed killers. “Some of the SubMerged are searching for us. We need to get out of the crowd, but our hunters will spot us if we try to flee.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Cal asks.

  I take a deep breath, then make my outlandish proposal. “Can we replace a couple of players?”

  Cal’s taken aback. “I thought you hadn’t played grop before.”

  “I haven’t,” I groan. “I don’t know if Mary has either, but that doesn’t matter. We need somewhere to hide, and the best place is in plain sight.”

  “I’ll have a word with the captain,” Cal says. “Maybe we can slip you in after the next play.”

  “No time,” I snap. “It’s life or death.”

  Cal sighs, then nods and races towards his captain. As he reaches him, he lurches sideways and crashes into two of the team’s birds. They go down laughing, but Cal whispers to them while they’re on the ground, and they begin to wail and thrash.

  While Cal is explaining things to the captain, I pull Inez away from Kurtis.

  “What’s going on?” she asks, gaze fixed on the unraveller, closing in on us like a shark.