by Jen Guberman
“Then why don’t you just give me the Bellicose key?” I asked impatiently.
“Because, like I said, you aren’t ready to go into the city. If you screw this up, it just gives the city more of a reason to keep us trapped in these towns. They’ll destroy you if you even make it that far. I don’t want you to give them the satisfaction.”
“But I have a knife—I can use it against them, but you won’t give me the key unless I beat you in a fight without a knife.”
“You’re surprisingly good with a knife, from what I’ve seen, at least. You don’t need work on that, but you might not always have a weapon available. I don’t expect you to knock me out or anything—I’ll determine if you’ve ‘won’ based on whether I think you can properly fight. I’m a far bigger opponent than you’ll likely come across in the cities anyways. Show me you can fight and can protect yourself, and I’ll give you the key.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
“How about tomorrow?” Cromwell asked. “You can give it a shot if you think you’re ready.”
I looked at him in disbelief and shock as I let out a forced laugh.
“You don’t think you’re ready?” he taunted.
“No!”
“What have you got to lose? If you don’t succeed tomorrow, it isn’t like I’m not going to give you another chance whenever you want. You already know I want you to succeed.”
I stood there for a moment, simply contemplating the idea of trying to fight Cromwell tomorrow.
“So?” he pushed.
“Alright,” I said. “Alright. Tomorrow before lunch.”
I left Cromwell’s room and rejoined Paren, grabbing a plate of rice and beans with chunks of mystery meat. I sat across from Paren at a table with just the two of us.
“It must be time to get a shipment of rations,” I said, poking at the mystery meat with my fork.
“No kidding,” Paren smiled. “Usually you can at least guess what kind of meat it is in our food. So, I have to ask… what did Cromwell want?”
“He just wanted to see if I was almost ready to fight or not.”
“You told him no, right?” Paren asked casually, munching on his rice.
“Not exactly,” I sighed.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re fighting tomorrow morning.”
“What?” Paren’s jaw dropped as he stared in disbelief at me.
“He wants me to succeed, Paren. He thinks it’ll be some big insult to the cities if I manage to get the Skeleton Key.”
“Then why doesn’t he just give you the key so you can move on?”
“I asked him that same question. He thinks I’m not prepared to go into the city, and he wants to be sure I am.”
“That makes sense,” Paren thought for a moment. “So, how are you supposed to ‘win’ the fight?”
“I don’t know. He just said he will tell me if I win based on whether he feels I am ready to leave or not,” I said. I summarized the rest of what Cromwell told me, and Paren seemed at ease.
“So, he’s probably going to go pretty easy on you, if he thinks he would be harder than any opponent you would have in the cities. We will just do a review of all of the things we’ve practiced, and then just get some sleep tonight,” Paren advised.
That night, sleep didn’t happen. I spent the entire night, tossing and turning on my mat. What do I do after Cromwell gives me the key, even if I win? Do I invite Paren? Do I leave Paren here? No matter what, Equivox is our next stop—I need my stuff back. After that, we need to get the key from Renée and Eloise. Then what? Clamorite? What will that be like? And what about after that? What city is the Skeleton Key even in?
The questions didn’t stop flooding my mind, even after Paren crouched by my side the next morning to get me up.
“Mornin’, darling,” he said softly. “How’d you sleep?”
“I didn’t,” I replied bitterly, sitting up.
“You can do this, Eos,” he said, putting his arms around me and hugging me close.
He’s hugging me—what do I do?
“Is this your way of saying goodbye?” I joked awkwardly. “You think he’s going to kill me, don’t you? Thought you’d hug me goodbye?”
“No!” he retorted with a sweet smile as he released me. “I was just trying to be encouraging!”
“Kay?” I eyed him as though I found him suspicious. “Thanks?” I laughed.
“Let’s get a quick breakfast in you before it’s time.”
When we entered the common area, I could see plates of stale muffins on a table.
“They restocked the rations last night?” I asked.
“Must have.”
Even if I win this fight, I’ll be stuck here for another week until the next shipment.
I sighed as I grabbed what looked like a cranberry muffin and I dropped back into a seat with a sleepy moan. The door to Cromwell’s room swung open as he lumbered out. He made his way toward Paren and me.
“I don’t want to make a public spectacle of this,” he said just above a whisper. “I don’t need people badgering me about ‘why’ and all that. Let’s meet in that room you’ve been training in. One hour.”
I nodded.
Cromwell picked up a muffin and locked himself away in his room again. I sighed dramatically, dropping my face into my arms on the table’s surface.
“What am I going to do?” I asked in a muffled whine.
“You got this! He doesn’t expect you to beat him bloody or anything. Just prove to him you can fight and defend yourself—piece of cake! You can do this,” Paren encouraged me.
“I hope you’re right,” I grumbled, peeking up at him from under my arms.
We spent the next hour merely sitting and talking, as Paren tried to calm my nerves and boost my confidence without much luck. I’m hopeless without a weapon. I’m not even that great with a weapon. When the hour was about up, Paren and I snuck out to the hidden room. Zane and Lamb were anxiously conversing about plans for leaving Bellicose. Paren and I informed them of the fight that was about to happen, and Zane and Lamb both hopped to their feet and hurried toward me.
“Are you sure she’s ready?” Lamb asked nervously.
“I think she is,” Zane answered quickly. “She’s fast, and she’s gotten a lot better at dodging punches. She might not have a lot of strength, but I think she has a chance.”
“I agree,” Paren added.
Lamb hugged me as I stood there, awkwardly stiff.
“Why do I feel like you guys think I’m going to die today or something?” I said shakily.
No response. Zane and Lamb stood, staring with horrified expressions at the entrance to the room. There stood Cromwell, his muscles covered in bulging veins as he hulked over.
“Ready?” he asked, as if asking me if I was ready to go on a leisurely stroll.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I answered flatly.
“They can’t interfere,” he added.
“I know. They won’t,” upon my words, my friends all backed up to a wall, standing apprehensively in wait.
“No weapons, either—I know we already discussed this,” he said.
I took off my coat, tossing it to Zane. I reached into the pockets of my pants and turned them outwards, showing that they were empty.
“I’ll countdown to start, and I will let you know if I think you fight well enough to stop. I will say when we’re done.”
I nodded.
“3,” he started.
I saw Lamb reach for both Paren and Zane’s hands.
“2.”
She bit her lip.
“1,” he said, his fist sailing toward my eyes.
“Duck!” Lamb squeaked.
I ducked, cutting it so close that I could feel the rush of air from his punch above my head. Remembering what my friends had taught me, as I ducked, I threw my fist right below Cromwell’s ribcage. The muscles in his abdomen took me by surprise, as there was no give when I punched.
&
nbsp; He reached down for me, but I scampered to the side on all fours. While still on the ground, I swung my leg toward the back of his knee with all of my strength. Cromwell fell clumsily, catching himself promptly. Before he had a chance to push himself up again, I kicked again, this time aiming for his shoulder while his balance was off. This caught him by surprise as he toppled over on his side. He rolled out of his fall, however, and got back into a powerful stance.
Cromwell grinned slyly as he did a deceptively graceful maneuver for such a bulky man, diving down and grabbing my legs from under me, forcing me on my back and knocking the breath out of me.
“Get up!” Paren growled at me from the wall.
Stunned for a moment, I tried to catch my breath. Cromwell hurried toward me and his fist sailed into my cheek with a searing pain. My vision flashed white for a moment as I fell, but as soon as it cleared, I scuttled like a crab across the ground to gain some distance between Cromwell and me as he stomped toward me. I pushed myself to my feet just as Cromwell began to tower over me, and in one swift motion I grabbed my right fist and slammed my right elbow into his nose. Sticky warmth began to cover my arm as I looked at a bloody Cromwell, clutching his disfigured nose.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I know this wasn’t an actual fight for my life but I—” I stammered.
Cromwell’s laugh boomed in the small room.
I watched in both horror and confusion, glancing nervously at Lamb, Zane, and Paren, who all looked equally perplexed. He let his laugh dwindle to a chuckle before speaking.
“Eos…” Cromwell started, looking at me puzzled for a second.
“Dawn,” I answered, curing his confusion.
“Eos Dawn,” he said. “You win. That was quite impressive for someone as small as yourself.”
“What?” I asked breathily, still processing what had happened.
“I don’t mean that as an insult—” he began to coolly defend himself.
“No—no not that! I just meant—I’m just… I didn’t figure I stood a chance.”
“You proved to me that you can recover quickly, that you know weak points on even your stronger opponents, and that you can think fairly fast—that’s more than I can say I expected.”
“Eos! I can’t believe you did it! You actually did it!” Lamb cheered, skipping toward me.
“You sound like you had so much faith in me,” I joked.
“I mean, well, you know! Oh! Stop that!” She laughed and poked me.
“Here,” Zane said to Cromwell, handing him a tattered cloth from his backpack.
“Thank you,” Cromwell nodded, pressing the cloth to his dripping nose. “Eos, I’ll give you the key, and Paren can load up on supplies from my room for your group. I want to give you the best chance possible at sticking it to the officials. Don’t make this all a waste.”
“I won’t.”
Cromwell led the way through the empty common room and to his room, ushering Paren and me inside. Paren was carrying Zane’s backpack to fill with supplies, leaving Zane and Lamb in the other room so as not to draw attention to them. Cromwell lifted his mattress, revealing a small hole in the cave floor, in the middle of which was a small wooden box. He handed me the box.
“I believe this is what you’re looking for.”
I opened the box. Inside it was a simple, small iron key. I pocketed the key as Cromwell began digging through a crate.
“This should do. I can’t give you too much, or people will suspect something,” he said, shoving a few bandages, a tube of some kind of ointment, a couple full bottles of water, and a generous assortment of food inside the backpack and into mine and Paren’s arms.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said, looking down at what felt like a bounty.
“Again—just… make them pay for this.”
“I don’t know if getting this key is going to really be revenge enough for the entire exile system…”
“It isn’t. Not in itself. But if you cause enough chaos, word will spread. Eventually, it will hopefully reach the towns themselves. Do you really think a bunch of criminals are going to sit still if they hear that a few others escaped the system—multiple times— and infiltrated a city but still lived to tell the tale? Hah! They’ll cause so much chaos of their own that the officials won’t be able to control it. It has the potential to unite us against them, if you play your cards right.”
“You really think it will do all of that?” I asked, letting out a quiet scoff.
“It can, but you have to be careful. That’s why I wanted to make sure you were prepared. I want you to make it out of all of this alive—give us hope. Hope alone is enough to give us freedom, Eos. So many of us have lost everything—you might be our last chance at something more.”
“I still don’t understand how I can do all of that.”
“Because no one else besides your little trio is stupid enough to actually attempt something so reckless, and I mean that in the best way.” He laughed.
“Wait,” I said, thinking for a moment. “Rations came in last night. There won’t be another shipment for a week.”
“Don’t worry about that, just be ready by the gates in about fifteen minutes, and stay hidden,” he smirked.
Confused but grateful, I thanked Cromwell again before Paren and I made our way back to Lamb and Zane. We filled Lamb’s bag and our pockets with supplies until our arms were once again empty.
“So, how are we supposed to get out of here?” Zane asked.
“I’m not sure. Cromwell just said to be ready by the gate, and to stay hidden. I guess he knows something we don’t, but at this point, I’m not really going to question him.”
“Fair enough.”
Zane, Lamb, and I began to make our way toward the gate, but then I noticed that Paren was standing stationary in the room.
“Paren, what are you doing? Come on! We have to hurry,” I urged.
“I’m not coming with.”
“What?”
“I’m not coming,” he repeated.
“Why not?” I asked, my heart sinking. I had started to hope that he would.
“Darling, this isn’t my mission. This is yours. Plus, I’m not a thief. I don’t mean that in a negative way toward any of you—you’ve all proven to me that thieves aren’t the scum that people say they are. I just mean that I’m not cut out for this, and I don’t need a Skeleton Key. You’re clever, Eos. You’re clever, and you’re strong, and you’re fast, and you have a really good chance at succeeding. I don’t want to mess that up. Plus, I’m not a part of this anyways.”
“Yes, you are! You’ve become a part of this! We can’t leave without you.”
“You have to—I’m not going.”
“Eos, I’m sorry, but we have to hurry!” Lamb pressed.
“Paren, please,” I begged.
“I’m sorry, darling,” he said, squeezing my hand and looking at me with apologetic eyes before he turned, walking toward the common room.
I bit my lip for a moment, blinking back tears. I don’t have time to stand here. I took a deep, shaky breath, and rushed to the gate with Zane and Lamb, feeling the walls along the way as guidance.
When we made it to the gate, a city truck was already crossing the outermost layer of bars.
“Get down,” Zane hissed at Lamb and me.
We squatted in the shadows, pressed to the wall. As the truck began to cross over the innermost layer of bars, we crawled rapidly over the sunken metal and crouched in wait.
“What are they even here for? How long until they leave?” Zane whispered.
“I don’t know,” I said, just as Cromwell appeared in front of the truck.
“Where are the intruders?” the driver asked, stepping out of his vehicle in full body armor and a helmet, a few syringes and a couple sets of handcuffs in his hands.
Suddenly, my veins felt like ice.
Cromwell betrayed us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I can’t believe it. After all o
f the speeches about hope and “spitting in the faces of the officials” … he reported us.
“This way!” Cromwell said, with a tone of sincere urgency in his voice as he beckoned the truck driver to follow him as he led the way toward the common area.
It’s a cover, I realized. He called an official here under false alarm to open the gates for us. He made it so an official himself would be the one to free us. I smiled to myself.
In the middle of all of my thoughts, I lost track of Zane and Lamb.
“Get over here, E!” Zane hissed in a whisper from inside the truck.
“What are you doing in there? You’re going to get us caught!”
“Not if you hurry up! Let’s go!”
I rushed into the back seat of the truck, slamming the door behind me.
“Step on it!” Lamb commanded Zane. “I think he heard the truck doors! I hear him yelling!”
Zane turned the key in the ignition and the truck rumbled to life. Lamb screamed as the truck lurched forward.
“Sorry!” Zane said. “I don’t know how to drive!”
Since cars aren’t commonly used in the cities anymore, I don’t know what I expected when Zane decided that driving was a good idea.