by Aileen Erin
There was another door at the bottom of the stairs. When we reached that one, and the door slid open, I couldn’t help but stagger back. The noise was oppressively loud. I always avoided crowds. More people meant more chances for me to be identified, but this was more than a crowd. This was a horde.
The arena was a massive oval. I didn’t know how many people were attending exactly, but it had to be hundreds of thousands. Down the countless rows from us—in the center of the arena’s floor—there was a platform raised maybe ten or twenty feet from the ground with someone warming up on it.
Instead of large vidscreens placed around the arena, there was a giant, 3-D holographic head hovering just below the center of the dome. His voice boomed quickly before the holo morphed into a zoomed-in holo version of the person warming up down below. I could barely make out his ant-sized form on the ground, but the holo showed the man’s concentration and determination as he stretched.
Seeing the man who was obviously willing to take the test before him made something inside me loosen that I didn’t know I’d been holding. This arena event would be different than the ones I’d seen before. The ones where Earthers dragged screaming halfers inside to be torn apart by rabid dogs. So, when my guards led me deeper into the arena, I followed.
We walked down, down, down, and the crowd grew louder, louder, louder until I wanted to cover my ears with my hands to dampen it. Faint echoes of halfers screaming for mercy and flashes of their deaths filled my mind.
A hand grasped my shoulder, and I jolted.
“You okay?” Roan asked.
I wanted to whisper to Roan, but I knew he’d never hear me. “I’ve always dreaded arenas,” I shouted against the noise, and I hoped that would be enough for him to understand. My hands felt cold, and I tugged down my shirt sleeves, pulling them as far over my fingers as I could.
Roan looked confused for a second before his face paled a little, and his eyes widened, and I knew that he was suddenly seeing and hearing what I was. “I didn’t think—”
“It’s fine.” It actually wasn’t fine, but I wasn’t going to let the venue bother me. I’d never ended up in an execution arena on Earth. I was truly thankful for that. A lot of other halfers weren’t so lucky.
I glanced up at the holo of the man getting ready. I wasn’t sure what tests he would need to pass, but I was curious. I just hoped it was nothing deadly. I didn’t think I could watch someone die today. Not here. Not with this crowd screaming. No matter the cause.
Declan motioned me forward. “Come on. You’ll like this.”
I nodded because I felt like I had to agree, but a knot was churning and turning in my stomach over and over, and I had this sense of impending dread pressing down on me. We passed countless rows of people as we descended the stairs. More and more of the audience turned to stare and point at me the deeper we got into the arena.
All the yelling and gesturing and attention were making the dread so much worse, but then the announcer said something. The crowd suddenly stopped their shouting and moved to a rhythmic chant. Not words, but sounds and tones. The contestant—maybe that wasn’t the right word, but I didn’t know what to call him—started glowing. The fao’ana on his skin burned bright, and the screen zoomed in on them.
The announcer started talking quickly after that. Some words in the swirling Aunare font and symbols appeared next to the man’s fao’ana, but I wasn’t sure what any of it meant.
I bumped into Eshrin and stopped. “Sorry.” I’d been too distracted by the holo to notice that we’d reached the front row.
He held his arm out, motioning to the seats to our right. “This is our box.”
After the last regular bench seating, a glass wall went up from the ground and created a box on all sides—even the top to form a ceiling. The box was big enough to hold ten rows, but there weren’t any rows of benches inside it. Pillows were scattered over love seats, oversized chairs with ottomans, and even a large cream-colored couch at the front. The homey furniture made the box feel like a living room. And maybe I could’ve forgotten that I was in an arena and watched the contestant, but I could still see and hear the crowd around me.
I stepped into the box. My guards moved into the space between the last row of seats and the glass wall.
Eshrin put his hand on the panel beside the entrance. A glass door slid up from the floor, sealing out the sound for a second before the front glass wall slid halfway down, giving me a clear view of the action. With one wall gone, it was louder again but not the deafening volume of before. I could actually think and talk without yelling.
Eshrin and Komae remained in the box beside the door. Two more guards were on either side of the short wall in front of me. All of them were scanning the crowd around us, watching for any threats.
“Do you want me to opaque the glass or leave it transparent?” Eshrin asked.
“Is it rude to make it opaque?” I asked Eshrin. I didn’t want to offend anyone, and it felt like the entire city of Ta’shena had to be in attendance. I’d never been around so many people in one place in my life.
“Leave it clear,” Declan said before Eshrin could give his opinion. “So many people are wondering about you. Let them see a little bit of who you are. You don’t need to hide anymore.”
I’d rather not have people staring at me, but I didn’t want to send the wrong message.
It wasn’t that I didn’t agree with Declan, but I wanted confirmation from an Aunare. I needed that perspective.
I turned fully to Eshrin. “What do you think?” He’d been really nice to me the few times we’d talked. I got a good vibe from him, and he was Aunare. He’d know what I should do.
He stopped scanning the crowd for a moment to look at me. “Everyone is very curious about you, and aside from the SpaceTech footage released, you’ve been a mystery. The news is running with any angle they can, but I’ve been watching you for just over a month and I know you now. A lot of what they’re saying doesn’t do you justice. It would do you good to leave the glass transparent. Let the Aunare people see the woman who will be queen for who she really is.”
I looked through the glass around us to the people beyond it. I wanted to see malice in their eyes or something mad or mean, but instead, I saw curiosity and maybe even some hope.
I glanced back at Eshrin, and I saw pure honesty shine through. Something in my gut told me that he was okay, and then my breath was taken away. The click happened. The one that told me Eshrin was safe. An ally. Someone I could trust with my life.
I’d felt something similar with Declan and Ahiga, but Eshrin was different. He was my personal guard, picked to make sure that I stayed alive. Since his actions would always be motivated by my safety, I knew that whatever he said would put my well-being first.
“Let’s keep it clear. Thank you.” I gave him a nod before moving to sit on the couch.
Declan sat next to me, with Roan on the other side. Ahiga was next to him. Lorne had asked me over a week ago when was the last time I’d had fun, and the question kept popping back into my mind. Did I ever have fun?
I’d been so busy, working at the diner, teaching, patrolling with the Crew, and struggling to stay safe and hidden, that I hadn’t had time for anything else.
I really hoped today would be fun, but if not, at least it would be different.
Roan leaned close to me. “He’s about to start.”
Our box was front and center of the arena seating, but the contestant was still far enough away that I couldn’t make out his face. The holo projection above was still zoomed in on the contestant’s fao’ana. The announcer was talking, but other holo heads would pop in and out to add what had to be another argument.
I was officially completely lost.
I should’ve brought my stupid translator. “What’s he saying?”
Declan pointed up at the projection of the challenger. “The glyphs on his arms are for fighting, but also strategy. The lower glyph means that he won’t get far in ra
nk, though. They don’t think he’ll pass.”
They were deciding he’d lose just because of the glyphs on his skin? “I don’t get how the fao’ana can stop someone from achieving what they want. He seems strong. Why can’t he pass the test?”
“Careful. Your Earther side is showing.” Declan’s tone was teasing, but his words had a hint of meanness to them. Was my Earther side something I needed to hide?
I wanted to roll my eyes or punch him or say something shitty to show that I was insulted, but I didn’t do any of that. “Just answer the question, please.”
“Think of the fao’ana like someone’s answers on an aptitude test. Certain people are just flat out better at some things than other people. There’s a little bit of flexibility in how a person uses their fao’ana, but not in the royal armed forces. The glyph this guy has for agility is too weak, and he’s not sensitive enough to frequencies either. That’s the one next to his elbow. And his strength and speed aren’t what they should be either.” Declan crossed his arms. “This guy is an idiot for trying. That’s why the announcer is giving him terrible odds of passing. The other guy that popped up for a second gave a counter-argument that maybe his determination will overcome the odds. But then he admitted that it doesn’t really seem likely.”
I looked at Eshrin. He was standing guard at the end of the aisle, eyes scanning the crowd. He was a royal guard, which was part of the royal armed forces. Which meant he’d passed the test. “What do you think?”
Eshrin looked at me for a moment before glancing at the screen. He grunted before continuing his scan of the seats. “I know him—Ulshan ni Yana’am. We went to school together. Trained together. He’s a good man, but he won’t pass. Not a chance. It’s taken him too many years to even get this far.”
“If it’s so obvious to everyone, then why is he trying?”
“Because right now he’s basically what I believe you call a policeman. He’s always wanted to be in the royal armed forces. This test is the only way to make that leap. It’s his one shot at his dream, and we allow any Aunare who has passed the proper testing to try this final round. He could get through, but what Declan said is correct. It’s not likely.”
A bell rang through the arena, and everything stopped. My ears rang in the sudden silence. It was like the whole arena took a breath.
Then a rolling, deep bass beat started softly and grew louder, faster, until hovering craft came down from the ceiling and flew out from under the arena’s seating. Lights were flashing, and the announcer was talking. Smoke flowed around the contestant’s platform, but I stood transfixed by the machinery that came to hook onto the platform where Ulshan had been warming up.
The first stage of the test was a towering slick stone wall with water pouring down either side of it like a rushing waterfall.
Then the sound, light, and announcer grew quiet, and there was another hush over the arena.
In the quiet, Ulshan took a running start at the wall. He slid down twice—the crowd cried out both times. He stood at the bottom for a second. His chest heaving.
This stage would be a test of speed and strength. The wall didn’t look like it had anything to grip onto, and the water flowing down it was going to be hard to combat.
Ulshan muttered something softly, his skin grew brighter, and then he ran again.
I held my breath as he jumped and slid and then finally scampered—somehow—up and over the wall.
“Well, he made it,” I said.
“Not very gracefully,” Declan muttered back at me.
“Does it matter? He just has to get past it, right?” I looked at Eshrin.
He nodded. “Yes, but there are five stages to the test. Each testing something different, but they’re all hard, and they get harder with each phase. It ends with a fight. One against four battle-tested royal armed forces members. If he’s struggling with the first test, then there’s really no way he’ll make it to the end.”
Before I could ask any questions, the lights and booming sound came again, along with the announcer telling the arena about the next stage. When everything settled down again, there was another platform attached to the end. Then a good twenty feet of nothing before another platform.
“What—” I cut off my question when I noticed a square of tiny devices hovering in the center of the space between platforms.
I wasn’t sure what they did, though. I was about to ask, but then I didn’t have to. The devices puffed on, blowing a stream of flames into the center of the square, filling it up until it was a full cube of fire. And then, just as quickly as it started, the flames turned off.
I leaned forward on the couch as I watched the flames puff on and off. On and off. On and off. Each time, the puff lasted for different times, as did the length between puffs. It didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason, at least not that I could tell from here. There wasn’t a way around, over, or under it without leaving the bounds of the trial. It didn’t seem like there was a way anyone could get through there without getting burned.
The contestant was soaked through from the wall of water, so maybe he was wet enough and wouldn’t get burned? Or maybe there was some sort of fire retardant in the water that would help him through this next phase? But what if there wasn’t?
I held my breath.
He jumped, moving too fast for me to track until he was on the other side of the fire. He’d made it through, but his shoes were on fire.
“Shit.” Sounds of my own screaming when my boots had melted onto my feet filled my head. “Oh god.” My feet burned in sympathy. I scrunched up my toes and squirmed. I had an overwhelming urge to pull off my shoes so that I could see the healed skin.
“He’s fine.” Ahiga squeezed my shoulder. “It’s not the same.”
“I know,” I said without looking away from Ulshan. He wasn’t yelling or crying, but I knew the pain of being burned.
Ulshan quickly stripped off his soaked shirt and smothered the fire, but I could already smell a hint of charred flesh from where I sat.
I stood, moving to the wall to lean out the window.
If he were sane, he would stop. But he didn’t.
From the holo image, I could see the sweat—from heat and most likely pain—dripping down his face. He looked desperate and determined. I knew those feelings all too well.
Declan came to stand next to me, and when the contestant slowly moved to the next obstacle, I grabbed Declan’s arm. “Tell me he’s going to tap out.” The frenzied lights started flashing and smoke jetted out and the holo head’s voice boomed as the next stage was revealed, but all I could do was stare at the man limping with burned feet.
Declan was quiet for a minute, but I couldn’t look away from the contestant. “Looks like he’s not.”
“But he could?”
“Yes.” Declan’s crystal blue gaze fell on me. “Of course he could. It’s up to him when to say he’s done, but you don’t get a second shot at the test.”
“Ulshan only has this one try to pass,” Eshrin confirmed without stopping his guarding duties. “If he gives up now, he will be done. His dreams would forever hang just out of his grasp.”
Ulshan was moving slower now, hobbling toward the next obstacle. There was another textured wall to climb or jump over, except between his current platform and the wall was a steaming pool of something below. I knew that any kind of heat on a burn made it much, much worse. The steam alone would be excruciating.
The holo image zoomed-in on the wall, and what I thought was texture was actually blades and cones with razor-sharp points.
The announcer popped back up. This time his voice wasn’t so excited or vibrant.
“What’s he saying?”
“Odds of him making it through the next round.” Declan’s voice was softer now. “Not looking good.”
“Has he said what’s in the pool?”
“Acid,” Declan said.
Below our box, there was only a short wall between me and the smooth arena floor.
The obstacle course was hovering twenty feet above the ground, with stairs leading from the ground up to the first stage. I was wearing leggings, running shoes, and a support tank with a loose blouse over it. It would be easy for me to jump down and run in this. I could be there in ten seconds if he needed help. Maybe no one else cared, but I wasn’t interested in watching someone—even if he was Aunare—die in an arena. Not while I was here. Not when I could stop it.
Roan came to lean out the window next to me. “He’ll be fine. I watched a vid of last year’s tournament, and some got injured, but once they hit their limit, they tapped out. None of these guys have a death wish. He’ll tap out.”
“Is it always guys?”
“No,” Eshrin said. “But usually. Very few women are born with the correct fao’ana to make it through.”
I wanted to ask why, but the holo switched to show a close-up view of the man’s face. I knew that look. I knew it because it was the same one I wore every day of my life on Earth.
Survival.
Determination.
A healthy heaping of fear slathered on top.
He had to know how hopeless this was. He had to know he was going to fail.
I gripped the squared edges of the window until they pressed painfully into the palms of my hands.
“Just wait,” Declan said. “Watch.”
“I’m watching.” But I wasn’t about to watch him die. “They’ll save him before he hits the acid, right?” No one answered me, and I looked at Eshrin. “Right?”
He didn’t look at me, focused entirely on his steady scan of our surroundings. “Possibly. He has to give up first, though.”
I searched his large, holo face, but Ulshan didn’t look like a guy who was giving up. “Has anyone ever died doing this?”
“Yes.”
That wasn’t the answer I wanted.
Any hint of fun I might’ve had washed away. I was too scared for the man. He had to give up, but saying good-bye to a dream wasn’t ever easy. If it were me out there and everything I wanted was just over that wall, I wouldn’t be giving up either. Even if it was deadly stupid.
