Hell Born

by Marie Bilodeau

  Because I wasn’t in school anymore. Because I was in the real world, where people knew how to use their powers for different purposes, and not everybody had gone to the schools and just met the same people over and over again. And there were people out here—other Traded—who could in fact see me for what I was. Spot me easily, whereas nobody could beforehand.

  My limbs grew cold and I uncrossed my arms, staring at the door, helpless.

  But how had they even known I was here? Did I trip some kind of trap or alarm? Did they just see me? I didn’t think so – I’d made it pretty far. Why let me get this far? Did someone in the other guild betray us? That seemed unlikely…they wanted the canister back. They were the ones who’d sent us here in the first place, after all.

  Another possibility began to tug at me, and I tried to ignore it, not liking it one bit. It begged to be considered though. Clay. Maybe it had been Clay. Maybe Clay was so obsessed with the possibility of joining this fighter’s league that he’d been willing to just cast me aside. They had found me after he’d stepped away from us, after all. If they’d known to look for me…

  Just as I began to wrap my mind and heart around the possibility of betrayal, the door opened and Clay stepped in. He closed the door behind him and had the decency to look embarrassed.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I just didn’t know how else to get you away safely from that guy, Ian.”

  “Where is he?” I asked, ignoring the apology.

  “He’s safe enough,” Clay said.

  I shot him a look.

  “I mean, he is safe. He’s locked up,” he looked at me, a plea in his eyes. “He’s dangerous, Tira.”

  “He’s the dangerous one?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “He is. He’s part of the Guild of Shadows. They’re assassins, Tira! All they do is kill people, and hide bodies, and stuff like that.”

  “They’re not the ones holding me prisoner right now,” I said, ice dripping from my words, surprised at the anger I felt toward Clay.

  “You’re not a prisoner,” Clay said. “It’s a fighter’s league. They fight. Mostly amongst themselves, like gladiator-style combat. And sometimes others, depending on who’s organizing what. But they don’t go out there and just kill people. That’s not what they do. All they do is fight here and there,” he tried a grin on me. “You know I love a good fight!”

  He needed me to tell him it was all okay. I could see it - from the dropping of his shoulders to him barely meeting my eyes. But I couldn’t do that, not just yet.

  “I want to make sure Ian is okay,” I said. “He came to keep me safe, after all.”

  “Did he?” Clay asked. “Tira, he probably just came to get the canister, kill the two of us, and then make off. Or to keep an eye on us, at best! Like I said, these aren’t nice people. You’re putting your trust in the wrong place.”

  I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure anymore where I should put my trust.

  “Is Blake part of this fighter’s league?”

  “Nah,” Clay said. “Not sure what his deal is. I’ve been told not to worry about him. But he’s definitely not part of this league. Maybe another league visiting? I don’t know. Anyways, he’s still a jackass.”

  I smiled a bit at that, but that smile quickly faded.

  “How did they know I was here?” I asked. “They could see through my shadows, like they did in the Guild of Shadows.”

  Guild of Shadows. My tongue wrapped nicely around that. Was it really a guild of assassins? They hadn’t hidden that from me. They said that they kept things in check, sure. There was a difference between just going out to kill people and going out to kill people who were going to make things worse.

  It was a pretty damn big difference in my mind.

  “I don’t know,” Clay said, looking bewildered by that as well. “I honestly didn’t think they’d see you. I mean, I knew you’d have to reveal yourself eventually, but I was going to let you do that on your own. Just kind of lay the groundwork for you, and then you could just show them what you were capable of, and they’d let you join the fighter’s league with me, and that would be that. But I don’t know how they were able to tell where you were. I couldn’t see you!”

  “Why didn’t you let me step into the door with you at the end of the hallway?”

  I’d never seen Clay flush bright red before, but apparently it was possible. It made him look even more human.

  “Well, the boss, she doesn’t like it when there are surprises.”

  “The boss?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it was silly, but I figured if I pissed her off with you, then the chances of you joining were negative. But if you waited in the corridor and then I let you in when it made more sense or when she was more willing to listen, or something…” He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t really think it through.”

  “I guess you didn’t,” I agreed. “It still doesn’t answer how they found me.”

  “No. But we’re not in school anymore, Tira. The world is different out here. There are people with more power, and more dangerous than we thought they might be. That’s why we’ve got to stick together, right?”

  He looked at me with his wide eyes. He was so keen on joining a fighter’s league. He’d always wanted to join a fighter’s league, since he found out they were even available. Refining his skills to be able to take them on.

  But me? I’d never selected a guild. I’d never selected a path. Part of me always believed I’d just follow Clay wherever he went. And isn’t that what I was doing right now? Following him here to the fighter’s league?

  Why was it so hard for me to just commit to this, and follow his plan? He really wanted me to. He wanted us to stay together. Isn’t that what I wanted?

  “Want to watch me fight?” Clay asked suddenly to break the silence. He didn’t like it when we fought. Can’t say I blamed him. It had happened rarely, but I’d hated it every single time.

  “You’re going to take part in a fight?” I asked, a bit curious.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ve already fought a few times. I mean, that’s partly how they test you, right? There’s going to be a bigger one tonight, biggest one I’ve taken part in, and you can watch.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But I want to see Ian, too. Make sure he’s safe.”

  Clay looked a little bit hurt at the suggestion that Ian wasn’t safe. But he still nodded.

  “Don’t go in the shadows,” he said. “Just stay with me and you’ll be fine. Don’t try anything. Don’t steal anything. And don’t vanish. Whatever happens here, they see and they know. Might as well be upfront about it.”

  “We still need to get that canister, Clay,” I said, trying to keep him on track. I knew that we’d spent our entire lives preparing to join a guild, and we had limited time in which to do it, but I doubted the Guild of Shadows cared much about that. Clay had to focus on more than one thing, and I wasn’t sure he could do that. It’s part of what made him so good in battles - his unshifting focus on winning.

  But, out here? I didn’t think it was doing him any favors. He’d have to expend his focus fast, or we’d both end up paying the price.

  “We will,” he said. “You’ll get a chance to scout things out while you watch the fight, and we’ll make a plan after. Deal?”

  I nodded and followed him out of the office. We didn’t go very far before Clay opened up another office. A cage stood at the back, containing a very annoyed looking Ian.

  “Ian,” I said. He stayed seated in the cage and stared at me, his eyes narrowing. “Are you alright?” I asked.

  “They think he’s just a dog,” Clay said. “Mean son of a bitch wolf. But just a dog. I didn’t tell them.” He looked from Ian to me, seeming proud that he’d managed to keep the secret. I guess it was something. If they knew he was a Guild of Shadows operative…who knew what they’d do to him.

  “Do you have the key?” I asked. Clay nodded and barely hesit
ated before handing it to me. I popped the cage open. “Why would they bother locking a dog up?”

  “Really, really mean wolf,” Clay said, narrowing his eyes at Ian, who took a step out and growled, advancing towards Clay.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” I said, standing between the two of them, focusing on Ian. “Clay didn’t know that we were going to be ambushed like that. He certainly didn’t mean for either one of us to get hurt. We just have to figure this out,” I said. “Find the canister and get out, Ian. That’s it. That’s what we came here to do, isn’t it?”

  I wished he was in his human form so that he could communicate with me, but instead he stopped growling and sat down, his ears slightly back. But he nodded.

  “Good,” I said. “Clay, where is the canister?”

  “It’s probably going to be with the boss,” he said. “She’s been keeping close tabs on it. And you’ll see her at the fight. You probably won’t be able to get close to her, but pay attention to the details. After the fight, we’ll be able to figure out how to steal it.”

  “Okay,” I said skeptically. “Still not very clear on why you have to fight, though.” He shrugged again. He was really making a habit of it.

  “It’s what’s expected here, remember? It’s a fighter’s league. They know you’ll come watch me fight. They don’t mind. It’ll give you a good chance to have a look around, see what you can see.”

  “Like the stolen canister?”

  “Exactly,” he said. But I’d seen the hesitation in his eyes. He wanted me to stay here, still. To scope out the area and the fight.

  “Clay,” I said, “you know once we take that canister back, they’ll probably not want us to stay here as members, right?”

  “No, I get that,” he said. “There are other fighter’s leagues out there.” He added after a moment, and then he flashed a grin at me. “Now, come on! I’ve got to get ready!”

  He opened the door and stepped out. I glanced at Ian, who seemed to be giving me a knowing look of I told you we couldn’t trust him. I sighed.

  “Not you, too,” I said, and then I trailed after Clay to see this fight. Ian trailed me, looking about as pleased as I did about the whole thing.

  #

  I hadn’t expected that Clay would be fighting a woman three times his size, green-skinned, with four arms. She looked mean and angry, and about to tear him to pieces. Part of me wanted to root for her—girl power and all that—but another part of me was terrified that she was about to tear Clay to pieces.

  But Clay moved pretty fast from one side of the ring to the other, and landed a few blows himself, though he took more than he gave. I tried to rip my gaze away from the arena, which was about one story below where I stood, the viewers’ gallery all around it on the floor above. I leaned on the railing to keep an eye on Clay, and I also glanced to my left, where the so-called boss—noticeable from the fact that she was surrounded by well-suited guards—was dressed to the nines herself, and also sat on a metal chair with the engraved word ‘boss’ at the top of the seat.

  Very classy, I thought. Did all guild bosses have some kind of throne? At least it made them easy to identify.

  I couldn’t see the canister beside her. Only one expensive-looking drink graced the gilded table to her left, some blue concoction which swirled with sparkles. She toyed with it more than she drank it. I couldn’t blame her - it was the perfect drink with which to do that. She seemed to be staring not just at the combat below, which she had a prime view of, but also at the other fighters around her, judging those who watched, those who ignored the battle, and those who chatted amongst themselves.

  Her eyes caught mine a few times, and I looked away quickly. I didn’t like what I saw in them. I thought she was human—in fact I was sure she was, because she was at least in her fifties—but something about her made my skin crawl. Ian sat beside me, wagging his tail. I suspected that annoyance fueled the tail, not joy.

  I focused back on Clay. The battlefield wasn’t level. Obstacles and uneven ground had been added to make the combat more interesting, or at least resemble some terrible sixties sci-fi movie. Clay kicked himself off a hill and landed on the woman’s head, managing to strike her off balance. But she recovered quickly using one of her arms to push herself back up, and the other three to grab a spear and throw it at Clay’s head.

  I gasped, but he managed to avoid it, swerving just in the nick of time.

  I looked to the back of the room, where several counters spun and rotated with high figures, now nearing a million. A money sign at the end of the row made it clear we were talking dollars. The numbers shone and increased. Several other screens showed viewers chatting about the combat.

  I recognized enough to know it was social media, and it was busy. I was suddenly glad I’d never been on those – it went by scary fast. A cheer sounded across the arena at a great blow landed on Clay. Where the hell had that come from? There weren’t that many people here.

  I suddenly understood. Although there were a few participants here, the game was being broadcast elsewhere, bets were coming in, and the cheers could flow from the comfort of their own homes.

  The more blows were traded and parried, the higher the counter went, easily passing the one million mark, already nearing five. That was a lot of money, and the boss seemed more and more pleased, leaning back in her chair and swirling her sparkly drink.

  My blood ran cold. This was how this guild made its money – by pitting Traded against Traded for maiming or death. In this case, the word death was crossed off the fighting board, but I didn’t like how close that board was to the money counter.

  I imagined that word wasn’t always crossed out.

  I glanced down, ignoring the rising bets. The woman grabbed a boulder—it wasn’t a rock, it was definitely a boulder—and hurled it at Clay. She was stronger and bigger, but she was slower. Clay jumped to the right, avoided the boulder, and then dashed her way, pulling out a sword. He managed to nick her thigh, but it didn’t bite very deep. Her skin was definitely not as squishy as a human’s.

  I leaned on the railing, looking back towards the bets. They neared eight figures, and the boss seemed happy about that. She looked at me again, and this time I didn’t look away, fascinated by what I saw in her eyes. They were so cold. And calculating.

  She held my gaze, and something changed in her face, a slow smile crossing her lips. I looked away, back down towards Clay, but when I looked up two seconds later, she was still looking at me as though gauging me.

  And then she looked towards the bet counter.

  I followed her eyes. My breath caught in my throat. The word death was no longer crossed out. A band of light erupted around the arena below, the red word dancing on a yellow background. Those lights reflected in Clay’s eyes, and a grin pulled at his lips. I’d beat him up for that, if he survived.

  I stared in fury back at the boss, and she held her glass toward me, as though toasting me.

  I took a step toward her, but two of her giant goons stood in front of her. A low growl erupted from Ian’s throat.

  “You coward!” I hissed at the boss. I didn’t have to speak loudly to be heard, despite the grunting down below, the shouting from the battle, and the cheering from the unseen spectators. The entire atmosphere of the place became vibrant with the possibility of bloodshed. The social media board exploded with enthusiasm.

  I didn’t like this world one bit.

  “We all have a role to play,” the boss said in a crisp voice.

  I heard a familiar grunt and looked down. Clay had taken a hit in the stomach and was doubled over. The other fighter walked towards him. The giant band of marketing light now shone deep red, bathing the arena in its blood light, except for the two white words flashing against the background: death now.

  The other fighter spotted it (difficult to ignore, mind you). I don’t know if she was surprised or worried, but she certainly knew it was her or Clay. I couldn’t blame her for walking toward him, picking up
a rock big enough to smash his skull in, and accelerating her pace before he could recover.

  I didn’t even think about it. Ian barked twice as I grabbed the railing and threw myself over it, targeting her head.

  I mostly hit her, grabbing her hair and pulling her down with me, trying to roll out of her way as she landed down with a thud. She was faster than I’d thought she would be, and managed to grab my foot with one of her hands. I kicked out, but she twisted, and I felt my ankle snap.

  I screamed and kicked out again, but she wasn’t letting go. She rose over me with that crushing rock. Her damn four arms were coming in handy!

  Ian howled from above. The boulder went up. I tried to gather shadows, but knew it would be useless.

  I braced for the blow that would kill me.

  But then her eyes widened, and she slipped down to the ground. The rock fell with a thud near her as her eyes rolled back in her head. The crowd cheered wildly as she breathed her last, her eyes locked with mine.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I hadn’t wanted her to die. But I hadn’t wanted Clay to die either.

  Clay knelt beside me, throwing aside his bloody sword.

  “Are you alright?” he said, gritting his teeth and still holding his middle.

  “I will be,” I said. The roar of the crowd pummeled down on us. His eyes widened at the cheer, but he stayed at my side. I could tell he wanted to acknowledge the crowd. To ham it up. To let their cheers bolster him.

  I couldn’t deny him his lifelong dream. “Go on,” I smiled as best I could. “Take your victory stand.”

  He squeezed my shoulder and stood up, looking like a kid at Christmas, like all of the toys and all of the goodies he’d ever wanted were right here, around him.

  I stayed on the ground, holding my broken ankle, looking at the dead woman, looking at Clay holding up his arms in victory. Then my eyes caught Ian’s, still trapped behind the barrier up above.

  His gaze gave no room for interpretation. We needed to get out of here. We needed to get out of here fast.

  But I just wasn’t sure that Clay would be coming back with us.