He starts to run. He sprints up the center path. Hands reach out, hit him, grab at his tunic, tryin to pul him down. He throws a punch an gits hisself free. Manages to stagger on a few steps more. But the crowd surges forwards onto the path, howlin like wolves at a kil , an bodies close over him. Waves pul in down a drownin man. Artashir disappears.
My stummick heaves.
It’s a shame when a good ghter goes down to the gauntlet, the Cage Master says. He looks at me. He reaches out a clammy hand an strokes it down my cheek. Now it’s yer turn, he says.
The girl’s smal er’n me.
She comes at me hard, right from the o . She moves so fast I cain’t even see her sts. The rst punch to my face. Then my ribs. An I jest stand there. Like I’m asleep.
But then the red hot kicks in an at last I unnerstand what it is. It’s like animals. A animal wil do anythin to live. Even chew o its own leg if it’s caught in a trap. That’s the red hot. An I’m gonna hafta learn to use it if I wanna survive in the Cage.
The girl’s tough. And she fights hard. She fights mean. She lost her last two fights. This is her last chance. So she’s got the red hot in her too.
But mine is stronger than hers.
But mine is stronger than hers.
I watch what she does.
I learn fast.
She gives me a hel uva beatin before I learn enough. Then I git lucky. I go at her with a yin kick to the stummick that slams her hard aginst the bars an that’s it. She don’t git up til the keeper pul s her to her feet.
An it’s over. The end.
The end fer her. The beginnin fer me.
They don’t tel me her name. There’s a lit le pink birthmark on her face. It looks like a but erfly.
Like the Cage Master says, it’s a shame when a good fighter goes down to the gauntlet.
But one of us had to.
An it sure as hel warn’t gonna be me.
The Pinches is outside on deck. They’re celebratin their good fortune with a jug of squonk an a roast pigeon. Tonight’s our last night on the Desert Swan. Tomorrow they move into a place in town. The Pinches an Em, that is. I’m gonna be moved to the cel block where they keep the cage fighters.
I lie on my bunk. I’m chained, hand an foot, like usual. Em sits beside me. She’s got a cloth dipped in cranesbil juice an dabs it, real gentle, on the cut near my eye.
I ain’t hurtin you too much, am I? she says.
I know my body’s sore. It must be. But I feel the hurt from a long ways away, like in a dream. Like I ain’t inside my body no more. Like I’m floatin around somewhere outside it. I’m sorry, I whisper to Em.
Sorry fer what? she says.
You shouldn’t of had to see that, I says. Her an the Pinches stood with the Cage Master on his balcony. She saw everythin from start to finish.
I was so afeared, she says. She would of kil ed you if she could.
I ain’t gonna let nobody kil me, I says. I’m gonna live. I’m gonna live an I’m gonna git us out a here an we’re gonna nd Lugh. I promised him I would an I … oh Emmi … Emmi, what’re we gonna do? What am I gonna do?
An that’s it. I’m undone. The tears trickle at first. She tries to wipe ’em away, but they start comin too fast.
Shhh … She strokes my face. Shhh … don’t let ’em hear you, she says. Don’t ever let ’em hear you cry.
She gives me the cloth to stuf aginst my mouth.
She lays down beside me on the bunk. She puts her skinny lit le girl arms around me an holds me tight. It’s al right, Saba, she says.
Everythin’s gonna be okay.
I double up in pain. I howl into the cloth, my whole body shakin.
I weep fer the girl with the but erfly on her cheek.
I weep fer Emmi. Fer Pa. Fer Lugh. Fer me.
Fer what we used to be.
Fer what got took from us.
Fer what’s lost to us ferever.
HOPETOWN
ONE MONTH LATER
THEY CALL ME THE ANGEL OF DEATH.
That’s because I ain’t never lost a fight. Every time they take me to the Cage, I let the red hot take me over an it fights til it wins.
If it’s the third time unlucky fer the girl that’s jest bin beat, I turn my back so’s I don’t hafta see her run the gauntlet. I cain’t help hearin, though. The bayin of the chaal-crazy crowd, like a pack closin in on their kil .
I close my mind o . Don’t let myself think about it. I got a stay alive. Got a git out a here an nd Lugh. He’s stil out there somewhere, waitin fer me to come. I know it. They could be keepin him right here in Hopetown.
Hopetown. It’s a cesspit, jest like Mercy said. Every scurfy vil ain that ever crawled out a a dunghil seems to find their way here.
An the Tonton. They’re everywhere, also like Mercy told me.
They’re personal bodyguards to the Cage Master, who watches the ghts from the comfort of his balcony. They control the Gate, checkin who comes into an out a Hopetown. They’re in the watchtowers, one at each corner of the palisade surroundin the city. They’re in charge of the armed guards who control the Colosseum crowds an patrol the streets. They’re in charge of the scum who guard us here in the cel blocks
—one block fer the men fighters an one fer the women—an supervise us in the exercise yards.
An the Tonton in charge over al of ’em is DeMalo. They say he answers to the Cage Master, but from what I seen that rst day, DeMalo don’t answer to nobody but hisself. From time to time, he stands on the Cage Master’s balcony while a ght’s on. I ain’t never seen him close up agin. An I hope I never do.
But al the guards an the watchtowers an the locked cel s an the chains that bind me … none of that’s stopped me tryin to git away.
The rst time, I waited til it was night, then I picked the lock of my cel with a rusty nail I found in a corner of the exercise yard. I got caught tryin to lift the keys from the guard’s belt while he was forty winkin it.
The second time, I was on the way back from the Colosseum when I punched my guard in the face an made a run fer it.
Both times, they shoved me into the Cooler to try an break my spirit. That’s what they always do with troublemakers. But a few hours locked in a metal box unnerground ain’t gonna stop me tryin to git out a this place an they know it.
That’s why they started chainin me to my cot al the time I’m in my cel . That’s why they keep me in a locked transport cage on my way to an from the Colosseum to fight. An that’s why they search me before they lock me back in my cel .
But they don’t ever hurt me. Don’t ever lay even a nger on me. I don’t ght more’n twice a week. The Angel of Death’s a big draw fer the crowds. I’m the best thing that’s happened to Hopetown in a long time. They wanna make sure it lasts.
I dunno what kinda deal the Pinches made with the Cage Master, but whatever it is, they must be doin ne by it. Sometimes I see her, Miz Pinch, on the Cage Master’s balcony, watchin me fight, but other’n that, I ain’t had no more to do with any of ’em.
I also ain’t seen Emmi. I hate not knowin if she’s okay or not, but I ain’t got no way of sendin a message to her. Al I can do is hope that she’l find a way of sendin one to me. An that she’s somehow keepin out a the way of Miz Pinch’s fist.
I’m wel fed. I got my own cel an a cot with a blanket. Th’other girl ghters is al kept in one big cel together an have to bunk down on the cold ground at night. They don’t git no special treatment.