Tooth and Nail

by Chris Underwood

  Holdfast glared at me a moment longer. Then he hefted his hammer up, rested the head against his shoulder, and strode into the arena.

  There was no cheer. The audience remained silent.

  I inhaled deeply. It was time. I took a step forward.

  Over the sound of the tractor’s rumbling, my sharpened hearing picked up the crunch of footsteps from around the side of the arena. I paused and glanced to my left as a figure emerged.

  Early met my gaze and came to a stop. We stared at each other for a second. Then the old man took a breath and approached me.

  “Early,” I said. “I—”

  The old man pulled me into a hug. For a frail-looking guy, he sure knew how to crush someone’s lungs.

  After a second, he released me again. He fixed me with piercing blue eyes.

  “Win,” he said.

  And with that, he turned and walked away, striding back toward the scaffolding that lead up to the stands.

  From inside the arena, an unfamiliar voice boomed. “Osric Turner. Please enter.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “I’m coming.”

  I strode through the opening and into the arena.

  I saw immediately that I’d been right—the stands were divided into two: ogres in the far half, vampires and swains in the half near me.

  To the left, at the top of the stands, was an extra platform where the ogre half and vampire half met. Lockhart stood there, staring down. Beside her was a female ogre I’d never seen before. She was old, her thick skin wrinkled and worn. But she was worn in the way that a cliff face is worn. Old, sure, but also strong and dangerous and unyielding.

  Not so different from Lockhart, in fact.

  That had to be Bounding Rabbit. She wasn’t much shorter than Holdfast, and she was at least as broad. She cast an imperious eye down on me as I stopped opposite Holdfast.

  Behind me, the tractor’s engine rumbled. I glanced back to see the bus being pushed back into place, closing the gate. On the other side of the arena, Holdfast’s gate was closing as well. He didn’t look back. He didn’t take his eyes off me.

  Christ, he was big. Had he been that big at Doyle’s Reach?

  Tearing my eyes from him, I glanced up at the stands. The audience didn’t reach all the way down to ground level. There was a wall about my height around the edge, marking the boundary of our battleground.

  I took in my supporters. It wasn’t very encouraging. Booker and his allies were near the top of the stands. An almost childlike glee shone in Booker’s eyes, right above the scar I’d given him. He was looking forward to seeing me die, even if it meant the vampires lost face.

  I wasn’t getting much more encouragement from most of the other vampires and swains. Atwood and Nolan were both there, but their faces were unreadable. Everyone else just looked kind of grim, like die-hard sports fans who expected their team to lose.

  All except Lilian, of course. She was in the lowest tier of seating, the one closest to the ground. She sat away from the vampires. As my eyes met hers, she gave me a small smile.

  A very worried smile.

  There was a creak of scaffolding, then Early emerged on the platform behind Lockhart and Bounding Rabbit. He looked down at me and gave me a slow nod. I nodded back.

  Bounding Rabbit stepped to the edge of the platform. “We are here to resolve a dispute between our two peoples,” she announced to the audience. She didn’t use a microphone, and she sure didn’t need one.

  “This dispute,” she continued, “will be resolved through ritual combat. It will be fought in this arena between the two champions nominated by myself and Sonja Lockhart. It will be a fight to the death.”

  Bounding Rabbit paused. No one spoke. Even Booker kept his mouth shut.

  “Once the fight has reached its conclusion,” Bounding Rabbit said, “all grievances between ogre and vampire will be laid to rest. We will have peace between our peoples once again.” She eyed the audience as if daring anyone to contradict her, then raised a huge palm and gestured to Holdfast.

  “Holdfast of the Mother’s House,” she said. “Is there anything you wish to say before we begin?”

  Holdfast growled. “Tonight, my nephew One-tusk is on his death bed. A victim of vampire aggression. Tonight, I fight for One-tusk’s honor, and the honor of all ogres.”

  As one, the ogres of the audience stamped their feet three times. The booming sound rang out, filling the arena. The structure creaked and groaned in protestation.

  Silence returned. Bounding Rabbit stared down at Holdfast for a moment, expressionless. Then she turned to me.

  “Osric Turner, cunning man. Do you have anything to say?”

  I paused for a few seconds, gathering my thoughts. “I don’t give a shit about the honor of vampires. Or ogres either, for that matter. I want truth, and I want peace. Nothing more. If you’re all so sure that this is the only way to achieve that…” I shrugged. “So be it.”

  No applause from the vampires behind me. Lockhart just stared down at me and gave the briefest of nods. Behind her, Early had his hands clasped tightly together in front of him.

  “Very well,” Bounding Rabbit said. “Begin.”

  Holdfast bellowed a roar that filled the arena. He thumped his fist three times against his chest.

  Then, gripping his hammer in both hands, he charged.

  29

  Holdfast was halfway across the arena before I’d even picked my jaw up off the ground. His footsteps thundered across the hard-packed dirt. Wide, furious eyes came flying toward me.

  So did the hammer.

  I didn’t even consciously register that he’d thrown it. But my body reacted faster than my brain could process. As the hammer spun end-over-end toward me, I shifted my feet and sprang to the side.

  The head of the hammer clipped my shoulder as I dived out of the way. The blow should’ve broken my collarbone and dislocated my shoulder. Instead, I went spinning into the dirt, a bruising pain spreading outward from my shoulder. I landed hard, my breath catching in my throat.

  A sharp pain filled my mouth. I tasted blood. I’d bitten my tongue.

  I glanced down to see one of the written charms pinned to my coat blacken and crinkle. One of my defenses was down already, and I’d barely even wiped the sleep out of my eyes.

  With my enhanced hearing, I caught the sound of a fist whistling through the air toward me. Without glancing back, I rolled away across the dirt.

  A fist not much smaller than the head of the hammer slammed into the ground where I’d fallen. As I scrambled to my feet, I swung wildly with my truncheon. I hit nothing but air.

  I got to my feet in time to see Holdfast picking up his hammer. He hefted it in both hands and glared at me, snarling. Still catching my breath, I backed off a few steps and raised my truncheon.

  Dimly, I was aware of the crowd baying. I could hear the rumbling cheers of ogres and the snarling of vampires. With the sense-enhancing potion working through my veins, I could make out each insult. But I let it all fade into the background. My heart was still hammering, but it wasn’t with the nervous anticipation I’d been feeling before.

  Lockhart was right. This was simple. The simplest thing in the world. Kill or die. There was no room for fear.

  Holdfast stomped forward, raising the hammer above his head and bringing it down in a crushing overhand strike.

  I saw it coming a mile away. I stepped to the side as the hammer came swinging down past my head. Before he could regain his balance, I darted forward and swung my truncheon into his ribs with all my might.

  The head of the truncheon hit rigid bone and tough, spongy flesh. I didn’t get the crack of bone I was hoping for, but Holdfast folded a little, breath hissing through clenched teeth.

  The ogre drove an elbow toward me before I could swing again. I stepped back, swinging my truncheon into his arm to knock the blow off-course.

  With a growl, Holdfast continued to spin, this time bringing the hammer arcing toward me. I duc
ked behind the back half of a wrecked hatchback. The handle of the hammer slammed into the rear corner of the hatchback, crumpling the frame but keeping my skull from suffering the same fate.

  As Holdfast pulled his hammer back, I noticed that he wasn’t standing quite as straight as before. He favored the side where I’d struck him. The hint of a dark bruise was already spreading across his bare ribs.

  I resisted the urge to rub my throbbing shoulder. Even under the influence of the pain-deadening potion, I still ached. I couldn’t let him hit me like that again.

  I continued to put the hatchback half between the two of us, giving myself a chance to catch my breath. Holdfast was in no hurry. As he watched me, his snarl became a savage grin.

  “Bad choice, cunnin’ man, becoming a vampire’s slave.”

  “I’m no one’s slave.” My voice was wheezier than I’d hoped.

  His snarl returned. “But you’ll die like one.”

  He bounded forward, jumped, and planted one heavy bare foot on the roof of the scrapped hatchback. It crumpled like tissue paper beneath his weight. That didn’t slow him down. Holdfast threw himself forward, hammer swinging.

  I went reeling back, narrowly dodging the first strike of his hammer. He kept coming, turning the hammer and delivering a back-swing. I ducked low. I wasn’t sure whether it was luck, skill, or the benefit of one of my charms, but the hammer’s path was an inch too high. It whistled over my head, tugging at my hair as it passed.

  Planting my feet, I threw myself forward, getting inside the arc of his swing. I fixed my attention on the ogre’s ankles. With my enhanced eyesight I could make out the twitch of every tendon, the shape of every bone.

  Rodetk had been right. There was little flesh protecting the inner surface of his ankle. The skin there looked thinner too, less like leather. One good blow and the bones would snap like twigs.

  I barreled forward, striking out with my truncheon before he could bring his hammer to bear once more.

  Holdfast’s knee came up to meet me. I saw it, but I couldn’t stop. All I could do was lift my head so he didn’t get me full in the face.

  His knee drove into my sternum with the force of a runaway train. My ribs flexed to their limit as another of my defensive charms absorbed the worst of the blow.

  The charm kept my ribcage from cracking like a lobster’s shell. It did nothing to keep me from being thrown into the air, gasping for breath.

  Somehow, I landed on my feet a couple of yards away. I slammed back against the shell of another scrapped car. I could feel metal buckling beneath me.

  I blinked away stars in time to see Holdfast roaring toward me again. He was relentless. I realized my truncheon had slipped from my grasp. It dangled from its strap around my wrist.

  The ogre thrust the hammer toward me like a spear, intending to drive the head into my chest and finish the job his knee had started.

  I spun to the side, still leaning heavily against the body of the car. Holdfast’s hammer whipped past my arm and crashed into the door of the car.

  There was a sharp screech as the hammer punched through the thin, rusted metal of the door. He jerked the hammer back, trying to free it. But the hammer head caught in the twisted metal, pulling the door half-open on its bent hinges.

  I saw my chance. Still gasping for breath, I jerked my wrist up, caught my truncheon by the grip, and darted forward.

  While Holdfast snarled and tried to wrench the hammer free of the car door, I struck at his side, aiming for the same spot I’d hit him before.

  The head of my truncheon smashed into his ribs again. The ogre flinched, still trying to free his hammer. Gritting my teeth, I brought the truncheon back and swung again.

  This time, I felt something crack. Holdfast let out a grunt of pain. It was drowned out almost immediately by the howling of the crowd.

  I raised my truncheon for another strike. Holdfast cringed away. But I was only feinting. While he tried to protect his ribs, I ducked behind him, swinging for his ankle.

  At the last second, Holdfast shifted his foot. The truncheon hit muscle instead of bone.

  It hurt him. But he didn’t go down.

  I registered my failure at the same time as Holdfast’s arm swept around, crashing into my torso. It wasn’t as bad as some of the blows I’d already taken, but it sent me staggering back, only barely keeping my feet.

  A wrenching of tortured metal filled the arena as Holdfast tore his hammer free of the wrecked car. As he pulled, one of the hinges snapped, leaving the car door hanging from the frame. With a growl, Holdfast wrapped his massive fist around the top of the door and ripped it free entirely.

  I took a step forward, hoping to get another shot at his ankle while he was still distracted.

  Holdfast whipped around, using the car door as a weapon. Sharp pain ripped through my nose as the top of the door hit my face. Something in my nose cracked. I tasted blood.

  My left forearm also caught part of the blow. Unlike my nose, my arm didn’t break, but pain still flooded my senses.

  As I stumbled back, I glanced down at my coat. The last of my protective charms went black, detached from its pin, and floated to the dirt at my feet. I could feel the effects of my potions wearing off as well, leaving me aching all over.

  I continued to stagger backward, trying to put as much space as I could between me and Holdfast. The sticky, copper-sweet taste of blood filled the back of my throat, making it hard to swallow. I was having trouble lifting my left arm.

  Holdfast tossed the car door aside and advanced on me slowly, his hammer in both hands. I’d actually managed to break the skin on his flank. Blood oozed from the small wound. He held himself stiff as he came toward me, unwilling to flex his broken rib.

  It wasn’t enough. That was clear to me now.

  I’d put up a good fight. But I’d lost.

  “Come,” Holdfast said. “Let’s end this.”

  Ignoring him, I continued to back away. It was hopeless, I knew, but I was in no hurry to die.

  The roars of the ogres in the audience beat down on me. The vampires and swains in the crowd had gone silent.

  I looked up at the platform where the two leaders stood and watched. Neither Lockhart nor Bounding Rabbit showed any emotion at all. Neither joined in with the roaring of the crowd. Behind them stood Early. His hands were clasped together over his chest. I could see him speaking quickly to Lockhart and Bounding Rabbit. Neither of them paid him any attention.

  The wall of the arena appeared behind me, blocking any further retreat. I started to edge along the side, aiming to loop around behind Holdfast, but he kept up easily, cutting off any chance of escape.

  I looked past Holdfast’s massive shoulder. In the stands at the other end of the arena, Lilian was on her feet. Her eyes were wide, her muscles coiled and ready to spring. Ready to jump into the ring and take on Holdfast herself. She stared at me, waiting for me to signal her.

  I wanted to. I wanted to so badly. She could probably take Holdfast. She could kill him. I could live.

  But for how long? If she did that, if she broke the rules of the duel, I wouldn’t get out of here alive. Not without killing a whole lot of ogres and vampires on the way. And even if we did escape, we would leave any chance of peace in tatters.

  She looked strangely beautiful standing there. Like an avenging Valkyrie. Fury and wrath swirling within her motionless form.

  I’d been so sure that going through with this fight had been the right thing to do. Maybe I was correct. At that moment, though, I wished I’d taken Lilian up on her offer when she showed up at my door, bag in hand.

  That was love. She’d been willing to throw away everything and flee into the darkness with me. It would’ve cost her, pained her. She was tied to this town. But she would’ve done it without hesitation. For me. For us. That was love. That was—

  A dozen thoughts crashed through my mind in an instant. My breath caught.

  “Holy shit.” My gaze snapped back to the ogre ad
vancing on me. “Holdfast, wait—”

  Bellowing, Holdfast charged. With his broken rib, he wasn’t as fast as before. But he was fast enough. His hammer arced toward me.

  I threw myself to the side as the head of the hammer clanged off the wall of the arena. Shards of scrap went flying. The structure groaned but held.

  I backed away, shouting to be heard over the jeers of the crowd. “Holdfast, listen to me. I think I know what One-tusk was—”

  As I spoke his nephew’s name, Holdfast’s roar became furious. He swung the hammer down. I darted back out of his reach as the hammer slammed into the dirt where I’d stood.

  “Stop!” I yelled. “Listen to me, you stupid bastard. We don’t have to kill each other.”

  I might as well have been trying to reason with a wild animal. The ogre snarled wordlessly, spit flying from his lips. He charged again.

  Blood pounded in my head, echoing the baying of the crowd. A red mist swept across my mind. My fist tightened around my truncheon.

  Why could none of these idiots just listen? Just for a goddamn second. If they could all just calm down we wouldn’t be in this mess. I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  But they didn’t want to be calm. All they cared about was their honor, and how tough they looked, and never giving an inch.

  None of them cared about the truth. None of them wanted to know what had really happened to Eventide and One-tusk.

  I was sick to death of it.

  Holdfast swung at me again, trying to crush my skull. For what? Because I’d gotten involved? Because I’d tried to help? Because I was the only one in this fucking arena who understood the difference between targeted revenge and blind rage?

  I ducked inside his swing. It was easy. The ogre was so damn predictable. I was exhausted, but self-righteous fury drove me onward.

  “Will you just”—I slammed the butt of my truncheon into his broken rib, causing him to howl in pain—“fucking”—I spun around behind him, dodging his elbow—“listen!”

  He turned, shifting his feet. Just as I knew he would. My truncheon was already swinging by the time his right foot settled onto the dirt.