This is my starting point: uncovering information.
The guards stand on either side of the entrance to the Cage, and Bax hovers over a metal table in the center of the room. He looks over a parchment, then enters something into a handheld screen.
Alyah, guide my words.
I stand and start toward Bax, but the announcer’s deep voice halts my steps.
“Now entering the Cage,” he roars. “The Dark Horse, Metal Mouth!”
All the contenders break apart and head toward the front of the chamber. Caben lightly touches my hand as he passes. Taking one last look at Bax, I decide to play my role and follow them to gauge Tobias’s competition.
The air stills in my lungs as the electrical beams from the Cage glint off Metal Mouth’s sharp teeth. His blond hair no longer splays over his wiry arms. It’s pulled into a tight tail that trails the middle of his back. A metal contraption rests on top of his head, and two wires run along the sides of his face, clamped to the corners of his mouth. His piercing screams and the shrill cry of the drill echo through my mind. I grip the bars.
There’s a collection of “oohs” and gasps from the audience, and a low drumming fills the air. The music morphs into a heavy, bass-filled tune as Metal Mouth parades around the Cage. He flashes his teeth and snaps his death bite at the crowd.
I look to Tobias. “He’s still only a man.”
He nods slowly. His dark skin glistens with sweat, and he runs a hand over his bald head. My words aren’t a comfort to him. I’ve never spoken with him before, and I don’t know why I feel the desire to say anything now.
As he steps up to the entrance to the Cage, a need to reach out to him and make him believe that he can win rises within me. Before I’m able to say anything more, Bax walks up beside him and says, “A gimmick.” He cocks his chin toward Metal Mouth. “It’s razor sharp and will slice you open, but only if you allow him to get close. When he does close in, pull the wires out to disable it, then grab the nearest weapon.”
Bax’s sound advice surprises me. He says it so calmly and even somewhat thoughtfully that I’m now curious about his true intentions for being part of the blood sport. Does he truly want to be a ring leader, or is he being forced to?
Patting Tobias’s shoulder once and shoving him into the ring, Bax says, “Kill him, Dark Horse!” His hard and callous mask slips back in place.
Tobias is introduced with his ranking and his own rhythmic drum beat, but he doesn’t circle the ring or acknowledge the crowd. He doesn’t want to be here, as none of us do, and he refuses to give in to the Otherworlders’ sport. I pray to the goddesses that he wins. Tobias’s strong and rebellious nature could further our plight.
The announcer raises his arms and points to the air above, then says into his vissa display mic, “The Reckoning is upon us!”
A rumbling sounds, bouncing off the rock walls and shaking the ground beneath me. A beam of light slashes across the void of darkness. It projects from the temple’s clawed rooftop, and slowly widens, illuminating the ceiling of the rock realm.
I look up. The atmosphere ripples as an image forms against the distorted sky.
The moon.
The full moon hangs in the black sky. Swollen, steel-tinted clouds pass over its silvery luminance as the image wavers above the Otherworld.
If Bale really exists and is indeed buried beneath this black earth, she must be reveling in its glory. I can’t decipher if the moon looks menacing because it’s a projected, distorted image, or if as Bax said, the universe has become unbalanced. A murky crimson rings the pale sphere, as if outlining the moon in blood to celebrate the sport.
Beneath the ominous, glowing observer, a fight between two contenders rages on. Metal Mouth gnashes at the air, trying to sink his teeth into his deemed foe, as Tobias bounds out of his reach. It seems like Krewl’s league enjoys the sport—like they might have even signed up for the challenge. But that’s not true. After what I witnessed in Krewl’s training room, I know his contenders have no choice. They’re trying to survive.
A hunter’s horn sounds, low and threatening,
and two weapons descend from the top of the Cage. Tobias dives out of reach of Metal Mouth’s grasp and grabs hold of a dangling battle ax. As Tobias swipes the air, Metal Mouth ducks and rolls. He jumps and latches onto a sword. Swinging forward, he kicks Tobias in the stomach and drops to the ground, sword in hand.
Forcing myself to look away from the fight, I search out Bax. I need to convince him that I’m a divine channeler for the deities.
Leaning against the corner of the chamber, Bax watches his contender duel blow for blow with a pinched brow. I discretely check my wrist that isn’t cuffed, making sure the mercury remains hidden. With the pressing thought that Caben or one of my Nactue could fight soon, my emotions are running high, and tension curls around my muscles. But Alyah is looking after me; only a few faint, inky lines crawl along my arm. In the dim lighting masked by the glow of ultraviolet lights, it’s hardly noticeable.
I drag my boots along the ground so that Bax hears my approach. I don’t want to take him off-guard. He’s invested in the fight, and seems like he could snap at any moment.
He doesn’t turn around to acknowledge me. “What do you want, protector.”
“To know how much you wagered on Tobias,” I say, moving beside him. “I’d like to also know how much you look to gain from my head.”
From the corner of my eye, I see him grin. “A lot,” he says simply. “You’re my highest wager. And if you win the freedom ring, I’ll be taken care of for life.”
His words sound hollowed, as if they’re practiced, rehearsed. “What does that mean?”