by Casey Lea
Silk’s mind spat angry static at the contact, but she didn’t try to escape. She abruptly leaned into him instead, hard enough to push him back against the cliff behind and the world slipped into slow motion.
She was far too close and Haze couldn’t help himself. His hands rose of their own accord, brushing past her metal skirt to come to rest on her hips. He had just enough restraint left to keep his touch light and stop his fingers curling into her softened skin. She felt warmer than a banked ember waiting to catch fire, but she trembled as if she had a chill.
“It’s not like you to be scared,” he whispered to the top of her head and she flinched.
“No,” she agreed harshly and he braced himself against the shock of her stepping away. However, Silk’s arms came up round his neck and she rose with them, onto her toes while Haze ducked his head until their mouths met.
The contact was as tentative as a first kiss and just as powerful. Silk stiffened as if surprised, while he gathered her close. He felt like he was falling all over again, but this time he wasn’t alone. He wrapped his arms tighter still, until she parted her lips and pushed him hard against the cliff with her body.
Their kiss was the sweetest Haze had ever known. It was hope fulfilled and he never wanted it to end. They finally had a shared life ahead of them again and he no longer cared that their happiness wasn’t guaranteed. At least it was an option – there for the taking.
Silk sighed, but then she gasped. Her groan rose to a shriek and she was torn away from Haze.
22
SWEEPER
Haze blinked and had a second to see Sweeper towering over Silk, pulling her close, before battle-sight took over. Haze launched himself with desperate speed as his wife disappeared in a deadly embrace. He twisted past her and spun to deliver a high kick to the base of Sweeper’s spine. His claws struck repeatedly at the boulder that should have been a back and his fists hammered after them. Blood flew from each blow, but it was Haze who was bleeding. Irrelevant. He hit harder and faster, until cracks appeared in the iron skin of the monster hugging Silk.
Sweeper grunted and straightened his rounded back, which loosened his grip. Silk sagged in his arms, sliding to her knees, her new exoskeleton cracked to dust once more. Her head lolled against the monster’s thigh and Haze roared. He leapt high to bring his fist down on Sweeper’s head which split at the blow, making the monster stumble. Haze forced a claw into the crack, but before he could lever it open Sweeper pulled back. He staggered away in dazed retreat dragging Silk with him, but stopping to shake his head after several paces.
The Dragon gaped at Haze, who snarled and moved in again. Sweeper dropped Silk, pushing her still form at Haze with a toe, before stumbling further away. The killer raised a craggy hand to his head and a piece of dark flesh flaked away at his touch. There was no fresh pink skin underneath. Sweeper had lost his true skin long ago. There was only the moon-white gleam of bone and blood bubbling over it.
Silk’s crumpled form looked black in Haze’s white world and his roar was harsher this time, as if he’d damaged his throat although he couldn’t feel it. All, all irrelevant. Sweeper growled back and stopped retreating. He crouched then dug in his toes, preparing to charge. He would come with the force of a tank. Haze felt his lips curl in some awful amalgam of a snarl and a smile. Let the bastard come.
“Run,” a deep voice suggested from behind and Haze looked over his shoulder to see Choke.
The big man had lifted Silk and she dangled in his arms. Haze’s rage turned to terror at the sight and his world darkened to the blood-red of dusk. Silk’s face was pale and empty.
Another roar escaped Haze and he swung back to Sweeper. The murderer had to die and he had to die hard.
“She’s alive, kid,” Choke said, but the words made no sense. Still something in them forced Haze to spin back. Choke was already moving, running toward the tower with Silk in his arms. He was taking her away. Drums sounded behind Haze and the ground shook. Sweeper was charging and Haze hesitated, but thought finally filtered through. What did Choke say? Silk was alive?
Haze took off, sprinting after the big man, and he was surprisingly hard to catch. They were in the long shadow of the final tower before he drew level. He looked over and his gaze met Silk’s. She smiled weakly and he stumbled, almost missing a step. Concentrate. His wife was alive, the day was nearly done and his drakking rescue squad must be close. This was no time to fall.
However, he almost tripped again when water sprayed around them. He finally looked where he was going and realized they’d reached the sea that had pooled at the rocky base of the pinnacle. He charged into the moat, struggling for balance in the surge of Choke’s passage. Strips like dark ribbons appeared in the sand around the pool and slipped into the water. Ripples angled after them, but the eels were too far behind.
Haze reached the base of the tower, but Choke didn’t stop. Instead he dropped into a steady lope and started up the narrow path. Haze followed at his heels, leaning out sideways in an effort to see Silk. The ground fell away below as they climbed swiftly, weaving from side to side across the tower’s face. He looked down and saw that Sweeper was following, lurching up the path in pursuit. He’d never catch them though. Not as long as they kept going.
Choke stopped and Haze ran into him. He had to clutch a meaty shoulder to avoid tumbling over the edge. They were nearly at the top and it was a long way down. He felt a flash of anger that vanished when his companion turned to show Silk, who struggled from his arms. Choke let her go and she threw herself at Haze, almost taking them both off the edge. His pulse leaped and then surged again when she pressed against him. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in deeply. He could stay in this moment forever.
“We’ve got to go,” she whispered. “It’s almost sunset.”
Haze spent a second processing that and then released Silk. She offered her hand and he took it, before turning to face Choke. The fighter stood above them, where the path changed from the flat ledge of its turning point to climb again and Silk’s fingers tightened on Haze’s, but Choke twisted aside then shuffled back against the wall to clear the way.
“Climb,” he said. “I want a word with Sweeper.” Haze hesitated, which was foolish. This fight was something Choke needed and Haze couldn’t risk Silk to help him. “I said climb,” Choke repeated. “This is a private conversation.”
The tower began to shake to the pendulum beat of approaching footfalls. Haze leaned out to see Sweeper grinding his way up the path. The Dragon moved with surprising speed - each stride raking across enough ground to cover a canyon.
“Wait,” Haze said, swinging back to Silk. “The weapon you wanted - the one the scimitar took - did you find it?”
Her mind said ‘no’ before she did, but he waited for the words anyway, clutching at hope even as sadness seeped through him.
“There wasn’t time to gut the beast. I prioritised you.” Silk threaded her fingers further through his and gave a warm squeeze.
Haze almost smiled. “For which I’m grateful, though it seems nothing’s gone to plan today.”
Silk gripped his hand tighter again and he knew what she was thinking. If he wanted to stay and fight beside Choke, she’d stay too. Gods, he hated this place. He didn’t even know himself in here. He bit his lip and shook his head. She nodded and tugged at his hand instead, pulling him upward. She paused when they passed Choke and rose on tiptoes to kiss the big man’s cheek. “Be eloquent, my friend.”
“Count on it,” Choke growled and proffered his hand to Haze.
That made it worse, but Haze returned the grip firmly. “I got in a lucky shot with Sweeper. His skull is cracked, but that’s his only vulnerable point. When I look at him with battle-sight he’s black against the light. There’s a glow round the eyes, but nothing more. His lenses must be diamond hard by now. I don’t know where else you can strike.”
The only reply was a low growl and then they were past Choke and climbing again. The path t
ook one more turn, but that was all. They’d made it to the top. Together.
23
CLOSURE
Choke looked down at his hands and flexed them carefully, finger by finger. Preparing. He’d waited a long time for this and finally they were going to meet in a death match. No one would pull him off Sweeper tonight. He strode further up the path leading from the ledge, so he’d be on higher ground with room to charge. It should be enough. It had to be.
The growing sound of an avalanche drew Choke to the edge and he looked down the length of the tower. At first he saw nothing in the shadows, but then he jumped back. Sweeper was much closer than he’d expected. A rock pile was defying gravity to jerk up the path toward him, making the edge crumble away beside it. Choke said a quick prayer and returned his focus to the ledge below. The last turn in the road.
Sweeper appeared, dragged himself onto the flat and stopped. His harsh breathing carried up the slope to Choke, but that was the only hint of life. The Dragon squatted there like a cairn. Day was almost done and the murdering mound of non-flesh was about to meet his end.
The mountain stirred. “You’re alone,” he rumbled. “Lost your crazy little girlfriend?”
“The Beserk has bigger balls than you,” Choke said and realized he meant it. Somehow the stranger had wormed past his defences and he liked him, even though it was a waste of time. They were both doomed. It seemed appropriate that they were friends though. Volunteers should stick together. It seemed the Harvesters were finally ready to let Choke finish his contract with them and claim his payment for fighting in their hell.
Muscles like rocks grated past each other and Sweeper rose in an avalanche of armored aggression. Good. This was almost done. Choke looked through the dusk to find his enemy’s eyes. “You killed my daughter.”
A subterranean rumble of laughter came from Sweeper. “Need more details. I don’t remember so good and I killed lots of girls. No one ever cared.”
“I care.”
“No one what matters. Time for me to win now. Move.”
“Sure.” Choke accelerated with all the strength of his powerful legs. He flew down the slope and Sweeper tried to crouch, but hands as sure as clamps closed on the killer’s throat and Choke barrelled into him. He drove forward to carry them both off the ledge. The drop was hidden and they fell into darkness, but Choke’s heart lifted. He’d done it.
He looked down to the rock basin below and then his eyes held Sweeper’s, which were wide and white. They gleamed with the glassy sheen of a man already dead. The body housing them writhed and bucked to no effect, as Choke managed to hug it harder. He’d dreamed of this so long - tasted it every time he was in the arena - and finally it was real. It had cost him everything, but that didn’t matter and his soul soared while his body plummeted.
A groan escaped Sweeper and Choke looked down. They were close now. Close enough to see through the still water to rocks that leaped upward like lunging teeth.
Bodies as strong as steel sinews writhed around the lake’s edge. The eels had seen them and boiled from nests along the seashore. In the last second before impact broke him, Choke felt sudden hope. Perhaps he had a chance to live after all. He finally loosened his grip.
Sweeper flailed as if he was trying to fly and Choke grabbed his enemy’s chainmail to tuck in against his body. They hit, but Choke was already moving. Impact like a meteor strike exploded through his arms and knees just before he somersaulted forward. The force of their collision helped throw him back into the air and when he landed again it was on freshly churned sand in an empty eel nest.
It still hurt. A lot. And everything went dark.
Choke pried his eyes open to the last of the day’s light. He blinked, but quickly adapted to the red glow that remained. He tried to rise and hurt came in flashes like lightning. Damn. He had to move. Had to be sure. Dragon armor would rupture after such a fall, but the man beneath might still be alive. Sweeper could be on his feet and hunting Choke right now.
The thought of that monster surviving was enough to get Choke to all fours. He gritted his teeth and crawled, ignoring the leg dragging behind him. He splashed into water and braced himself against eels stripping his skin, but there was nothing.
The water ahead frothed and writhed, chopped into waves by a feeding frenzy. Choke spat out a mouthful that tasted like blood. He managed to push himself up to a stoop and limped forward. A leviathan rose to meet him and he hunched lower, ready to charge. The hulking shape loomed higher, before crashing back to the water. It rolled and in the last of the light Choke saw Sweeper’s face.
His armor was gone and so was everything else. He’d been stripped to the bone, until his skull was scored with the tracks of a dozen teeth and the deeper grooves of razor fins. It cracked and Sweeper’s brains spilled out. The eels chased them in a frenzy and Choke watched till the end. Until he was sure that Jen could finally rest.
Choke sighed and trudged on, giving the bloated eels a wide berth. It seemed he’d achieved his goal and survived. At least for a while. That should have been a good thing, but now his life felt as empty as a broken promise. He shrugged and started to climb the tower again.
24
CHOICES
Silk couldn’t believe she’d fainted, but she guessed being softened up by love had to have consequences. She tried to think back and figure out what had happened. The last thing she remembered was reaching the plateau that held the Death Blade. She’d risen high enough to sight the pillar surrounding it, but then the sun had set impossibly fast and everything went dark. The world fell away and she felt herself fall with it, then nothing. When she finally returned she felt strangely warm and calm, as if the dark had washed her clean. She was in someone’s arms and had no desire to leave.
Silk didn’t need to open her eyes to see who held her. His scent was already familiar and he was the only person she trusted in this crazy dead-end life. She knew she should stir and let him know she was fine, but she was so tired. It was nice to be supported. She gave a hiccup of laughter. That didn’t sound like her. Didn’t feel like her either. It was a strange sensation, but she thought… perhaps… she was happy.
Someone cleared his throat and Silk sat up with a sigh. Haze was watching her anxiously and beyond him was a cloaked blur, which stirred impatiently. “Umpyre,” she muttered and the figure gestured toward the knife. “Anxious to get home?” she asked and swallowed acid. She hated that old man. She should have hated every Harvester, but somehow her fury was focused here. At the end. She’d have killed him - at any cost - if she’d ever had any hope of success.
Silk let Haze help her to her feet, but it was hard to look away from Umpyre. Why did hate taste so bad? Lips brushed her ear and she started.
“Are you well?” Haze asked and suddenly, just like that, she was. The evening fell away again, although this time she didn’t faint, thank space. She studied Haze instead and joy bubbled up when he smiled back. However- his brow furrowed and his eyes flicked to the sky, as if searching for something.
“What?” Silk wondered, but Haze shook his head.
“It’s okay. Are you certain-sure you’re good? Truly?”
Silk’s lips pursed before she could stop them. He was a worrier, but under the circumstances he had cause. “Truly. It’s been a hard day. Hard enough to cost me two exoskeletons and that’s enough to make Sweeper himself black out.” She glanced to the path, but there was no sign of Choke and she pushed away all thought of his fate. Their own still hung in the noose.
Umpyre stepped forward as if he’d been summoned. “Reach for the blade. The first to draw it clear will live. The other dies.”
25
SUNSET
Haze looked to the darkening sky again, but it was still empty. His team was definitely cutting it close. He stepped back to the edge of the path, away from the blade. He gestured between Silk and the knife to make his surrender clear. “It’s yours, but wait a bit. Don’t draw it just yet.”
Her fi
ngers drummed against her mail-clad hips and she frowned at him. “I’ll wait a lot. I’m not taking it.”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”
“Why not?”
“Idiot. And by that I mean me.” She barged into him and her hands closed on the nape of his neck. Her teeth snagged his lip, but then she relented and kissed him again. Somehow she loved him and that made everything right. Even impending death. He chuckled at that and realized hysteria was stalking him, but that was okay too. Silk was soft and warm and tasted like honey, and this moment would always be theirs.
Even when she sighed and pulled away, he stayed close.
“Please,” Haze said, trying not to sound like he was begging. “Claim the blade.”
“No. We take it at the same time. Umpyre,” Silk called and the old man came closer, wafting through the dusk. “Do you believe in happy endings? You could be the hero of the match. The person who gives the crowd what they want. Right?” She threw her head back, calling to the sky and it answered. Seats appeared above them, packed with spectators who roared their approval. Sound rumbled through their feet as well, making Haze lean over the edge to look down.
The shallow sea below had become translucent and he was staring at more of the audience. They stood under the maze, packed like green sardines for miles in either direction. He blinked and Silk leaned over beside him.
“The cheap seats,” she said. “It seems they agree too. Judge us both winners, or risk a riot.”
“No.” The word fell from Umpyre’s lips, flat and final. The mind behind it was adamant and the crowd went quiet. “The arena rules are mine to make and only one can live. However, in response to your popularity I will offer you a gift. Silk shall decide which one draws the blade. Choose, girl.”
