03 Saints

by Lynnie Purcell

  The doors that led to the arena were massive. Silver and a foot thick, they stretched up ten feet from floor to ceiling. They were open but transmitted a feeling of magnitude, respect, and ultimate appreciation for how serious the Saints took what happened inside. Though the people were festive and cheerful, as they walked the dirt hall, they knew the consequences of the fight well. The doors were a reminder.

  Inside, the dirt hall opened out to a large circular chamber. Rows of seats surrounded a dugout pit that was closed in by silver barbed wire. The seats were dug out of the earth and topped with concrete. At full capacity, the room looked as if it could hold four hundred. From the way people were starting to line the back of the room, I knew that the room was maxed out beyond capacity.

  I looked around for a place to sit, figuring I would end up lining the wall as well, and saw Daniel wave at me from a bench at the bottom of the stairs. Next to him were Reaper’s generals. King sat on his right, while an empty seat was to his left. No one dared approach Daniel to take the seat from him.

  “I saved you a seat,” Daniel said when I joined him.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I sat next to him and took his hand. His thoughts were calm and confident, surprising me. He did not harbor the same doubts I did. I wondered if it was because of a vision, or trust in Reaper’s abilities. I would have liked both. He looked back at the milling crowd, searching for a familiar face.

  “Alex?” he asked.

  “Didn’t want to come,” I said.

  “Ah,” he said, as if he had expected as much.

  River stood as he spoke. The people in the room stopped talking and took what seats were left as she did. She didn’t say anything to calm them; they knew it was time. Expectant excitement filled the air. On the opposite side of the room, I saw the two men who followed Quinn everywhere. They had smirks on their faces, as if they thought they were about to inherit the world.

  When the silence had spread to even the most enthused of the crowd, River spoke. Her voice was quiet and precise, but everyone in the room heard her words.

  “There has been a challenge issued today. The fighters must fight to the death. And, as Quinn is the challenger, Reaper has been given the choice of weapon. He has chosen knives. Use of talent is not permitted – to do so is to forfeit. We abide by the rules of the fight. It ends here,” she said.

  The heightened tension of the room swirled around me. I felt my heartbeat increase with her words.

  “Bring them out,” she commanded.

  Two doors on opposite sides of the pit opened at the same time. Reaper walked out of the door to my left, while Quinn walked out of the door to my right. They were both stripped to the waist and were carrying silver knives. Reaper’s dog tags were around his neck, a contrast to his pale skin. He didn’t look up at the crowd; he kept his eyes focused on Quinn.

  Quinn, however, waved to people, as if he were about to perform something a lot less deadly. I felt my hands clench at his smile and his obvious disregard for the life he had taken. No one cheered as they entered; the room remained silent and still. It was a great pause before the coming storm.

  Reaper stopped exactly in the middle of the circular pit and waited for Quinn to stop waving at people. He held his knife casually in his hand, but his muscles were coiled tightly, ready to move at a second’s notice. Quinn stepped in front of him, his knife held just as casual. He coldly smiled at Reaper, a threat hidden in the depths of his eyes. Reaper smiled back, the threat in his face more evident.

  They stared at each other for a moment. Then, without warning, Quinn lunged forward. His knife slashed at Reaper’s belly. Reaper jumped out of the way of the blow and returned with his own slash. Quinn ducked the blow and returned with a kick to Reaper’s legs. The kick connected. Reaper hit the ground with the force and used his momentum to roll out of the way of Quinn’s follow through lunge. Reaper rolled back to his feet and waited for Quinn to attack him again. Quinn obliged, jabbing at Reaper’s throat with the knife. Reaper stepped back in time to dodge the blow, but not entirely. The knife cut in to his chest and silver blood started leaking from the wound. It was nothing more than a serious scratch, but enough to make Reaper angry.

  He lashed out at Quinn as Quinn recovered from the blow and a gash appeared on Quinn’s arm. Quinn moved out of range of Reaper’s next attack, a jab that was a bit higher, and looked down at his bleeding arm. He almost looked shocked he had been hurt.

  Reaper charged Quinn without pause, and the pair hit the dirt. Quinn caught Reaper’s wrist as Reaper made for a low jab. Quinn returned with his own jab. Reaper caught Quinn’s wrist, and they fought for the upper hand. They rolled on the ground kicking at each other, trying to keep the tip of their opponent’s blade from coming in contact with their skin.

  Reaper finally kicked Quinn off of him. Quinn rolled on to his back, the wind knocked out of him. Reaper didn’t hesitate. He moved to Quinn and stabbed him in the chest. Reaper pulled the knife out and stabbed him again. Blood bubbled to Quinn’s lips. Quinn tried to say something, but his words were cut short. His body went limp and his eyes lost their light.

  Reaper rocked back on his heels. His back moved in time to his heavy breathing. A low whisper floated through the arena as people talked about the dramatic conclusion of the fight. It felt so sudden.

  Reaper stood. The blood from his chest wound dripped down to his stomach. His black hair had come out of its rubber band and the left side of his face was covered in dirt. I had never seen him look so human.

  “Is there anyone else who would like to challenge me?!” Reaper yelled to the room.

  The whispers cut off abruptly.

  “This is your last chance! After today, there will be no more challenges! The Saints is my group…my vision! Not his!” He pointed at Quinn. “Not yours! If you don’t agree with that vision, leave! I will not tolerate this sort of backroom betrayal again! So, is there anyone who would like to challenge me?!”

  He waited a long moment. His eyes swept the crowd for dissenters. I saw him look directly at the pair who normally followed Quinn. Both men looked at the ground, their faces full of fear.

  “Good,” he said. “Because now, more than ever, I need you on my side. I need brave people, who are committed to the mission of peace I have always stood behind. We are about to take on the brothers. We are about to end the war and stop the hunting. What we have always fought for is about to become a reality. Are you with me?”

  The room erupted in to cheers. People jumped to their feet to show their support. Those who didn’t agree with Reaper’s vision were either pretending or quietly slipped out of the arena, before anyone remembered their opinions from before the fight.

  I clapped along with the others and stood as Daniel stood. Reaper accepted our cheers with a small smile; then he bent down and took hold of Quinn’s shoulders. He pulled Quinn’s body on to his shoulder and walked out of the pit. Conversations took the place of the cheering. People started moving toward the exit as they talked. Spider started running through crowd collecting money as he went.

  “Talk about an easy con!” he said. “Always bet on the guy who grew up stealing from people. It’s a sure win!” He chortled as he passed us.

  “He’s got a point,” Daniel said, gently pushing me toward the door.

  “I know I always bet on the street kid,” I agreed.

  “Are you flirting with me?” Daniel asked.

  “I guess I am…in a weird way,” I admitted.

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  I let out a long sigh. “I’m glad that went the way it did,” I said.

  “Me, too, as I promised Reaper I would challenge Quinn should he loose,” Daniel said. “He trusts Moira…but, well, I am his oldest friend.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Well, how’s that for a piece of news?” I asked dryly, feeling doubly grateful Reaper had won.

  Alex was waiting in the room that held the secret
stairs. It was the closest she had allowed herself to come to the fight. She was pacing out of the way of the crowd; she walked from one wall to the other, twisting her hands in circles. When she saw me, she stopped pacing. Her eyes said everything.

  “Reaper won,” I told her.

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

  “He told the crowd there would be no more fights…the Saints are his group, and if they didn’t agree with how he ran things, they could leave,” I added, knowing she would be interested in that detail.

  She bit her lip, her blue eyes sparkling with an excited light. I thought she might have been fighting the urge to smile. She grabbed Spider by the back of the shirt as he passed by. He swore at her, thinking her one of the Watchers. She put her arm around his shoulder to keep him in place.

  “Apologize,” Daniel said.

  “Sorry, doll,” he apologized to Alex. “I thought you were someone else.”

  “I forgive you,” she said.

  “What a fight!” Spider said. “The others will be mad they missed it.”

  “I’m sure they will be,” I said.

  “I guess I won’t have to look over my shoulder anymore,” Spider said.

  “You always look over your shoulder, regardless if there’s a threat or not,” I said.

  “Yes. But I had reason for my paranoia this time,” Spider said.

  “True,” I said.

  Daniel stopped walking abruptly and turned to stare out a window. I stopped, too, and saw where he was looking. Reaper had built his own small pyre for Quinn far enough away from Elizabeth’s to respect the circumstances of her death. He was standing beside the fire, his head bowed in thought. His back was full of tension and determination. The light of the flickering fire cast his body in to strange shades of orange and red. As we watched, River joined him in the light. Her face was serious and her body was just as tense. She put a hand on Reaper’s, and they watched Quinn burn together.

  Alex, who had also stopped to watch, turned away at the sight of them holding hands. Her pace was quick as she walked away, but Daniel and I caught up with her again. Spider had disappeared with Alex’s distraction – I presumed it was to collect on more bets.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” I told her.

  “They’ve been together,” she told me.

  “How do you know?”

  She pointed at her eyes. “I see what I see. I can’t stop it, just because I don’t like what I see.”

  “Alex…” I started to offer her another explanation, but she wasn’t in the mood.

  “I spent some time looking over your grandfather’s book, while I waited to see if the world would end,” she told me.

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked, accepting her change of subject.

  “Has Ellen ever made mention of a family sword?” she asked.

  “No. I would have told you if she had.”

  “Well, apparently, in the dark ages, the Michael family was given a gift. It was a sword that a great warrior reportedly used in battle. It was given to your ancestors in return for saving the warrior’s life. The only reason I mention it is because your grandfather made mention of it, as if he had it in his possession…he was sort of bragging about it.”

  I shrugged. “The house is the only family heirloom I know about,” I said.

  “Huh…” she said.

  “Besides, a sword doesn’t change anything,” I said.

  “Well, it could have been the reason he hid the book,” Alex said. “To hide mention of the sword.”

  “But where’s the sword? Shouldn’t it have been with the book?” I asked. “And what makes it so important?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far. Your grandfather doesn’t write in a linear form. It’s more like a journal than anything else,” Alex said. “He made the book in order of his discoveries, not in order of your family line.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Did he give any kind of description of the sword?” Daniel asked. He was obviously more intrigued by the news than I was. His eyes were narrowed, but bright, as if the mention of the sword had meant something.

  “Not yet,” Alex said.

  “We’ll just have to keep reading, I guess,” I said.

  “You mean, I will have to keep reading, since you don’t seem that interested,” she said.

  “You try reading something written by a grandfather, who didn’t want anything to do with you, because you’re a sin against God,” I said.

  Her face was instantly apologetic. “Sorry,” she said.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” Daniel interjected.

  “Now?” I asked.

  “It’s about to get noisy,” Daniel said. “People are going to be celebrating Reaper’s victory…”

  “I could show you my city,” I said.

  “You guys want to be alone?” Alex asked.

  Daniel and I shared a look. It was obvious she was still upset over the scene between River and Reaper.

  “No,” Daniel said.

  We walked outside to the cars. People were scattered across the front drive of the school and more were pulling up in cars. Music blasted from the third floor and from the cars. Reaper and River walked around the edge of the building as we got in to one of the sport’s cars. They didn’t seem to notice us at all.

  Alex kept her eyes on the floorboard as Daniel drove around the cars blocking the driveway. Her expression of doubt was something I had never seen on her usually in-control face. In the rearview mirror, I saw Reaper finally notice us. His expression enigmatic, he watched our car until we disappeared out of sight.

  We stayed gone until it was almost dawn.

  By that time, the party had settled down. People were still hanging around the school, but it was more of the regular crowd. Bottles and trash littered the gravel yard and a couple of people were passed out on the front stairs. I wasn’t sure what kind of wild party had Watchers passing out on the front stairs, but I was glad I had accepted Daniel’s offer to leave.

  As we were passing Reaper’s room on the third floor, the door opened. I saw Reaper by the door and the rest of his generals sitting on chairs inside. His expression told me he had been waiting for us. He was clean and fully dressed – the fight was only a memory. It was strange to realize it had only been hours ago when he had killed a man in a duel to the death. His eyes were serious, though he refused to look at Alex.

  “Would you care to join us?” Reaper asked.

  “Are you having a tea party?” I asked.

  “Board-game night for the murderous inclined,” Alex said quietly.

  Reaper’s mouth twitched as if he wanted to laugh. He didn’t. “We are planning an attack. We would like your opinion.”

  “Of course,” Daniel said.

  Reaper moved back to give us room to enter. Alex hesitated in the hall. The argument was still fresh on her mind. She wasn’t sure she was as welcome as we were to sit in on their mission planning. She wasn’t sure she was as important to the planning.

  “Please, come in,” Reaper said quietly to her.

  She stepped through the door, without looking at him. Reaper shut the door behind her and stepped around Alex, close enough that he brushed against her. She looked affected by the touch, but still refused to meet his eyes. He sat on a chair and waited for us to sit down. Alex refused, preferring to stand near the door. I sat in a chair next to King, and Daniel sat on my other side.

  “We were just talking about our planned attack on Lorian’s,” Reaper said.

  “The one that involves Anna?” I asked, trying to act casual, though my hands were clenched.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve decided to move forward?” Daniel asked, taking my hand. His thoughts told me to wait and see what they had planned. To calm down. My anger wasn’t as hidden as I thought.

  “With Quinn out of the way there is no reason to not go ahead,” he said.

  River shifted in her seat. She obviously didn’t agree, but she didn’t sa
y anything.

  “What’s the plan?” Daniel asked.

  “Anna has told us that Lorian will be in town for the next month. We know he will be there, and we know that Anna has the ability to get back in to the house. She has told us that it is not uncommon for most of Lorian’s people to not know what the others are doing. She can get us through the front door, though Lorian will know she has been missing. But…if she can get to Lorian, whomever we send in with her can make sure he gets what he deserves.”

  “And who are you going to send in with her?” Daniel asked.

  “I couldn’t risk my people’s neck on something I wouldn’t do myself,” Reaper said.

  “So Anna is going to get the dubious honor of capturing you, and you’re going to kill Lorian?” I asked. “That’s the plan?”

  “Yes,” Reaper said.

  “It’ll never work. It’s too convenient,” I said.

  “Convenient?” King asked.

  “If Reaper is so easy to capture, why hasn’t Lorian captured him already? He’s obviously a thorn in everybody’s side,” I said. Alex made a small noise of agreement. “And Anna just happens to disappear during your attack and shows up a month later with Reaper in tow? Even the stupidest of Watchers is gonna wonder about those lucky turn of events.”

  Reaper frowned at me. “And you have a better idea?” he asked.

  “Something personal. Anna wouldn’t just ‘disappear,’ unless she was tracking down someone or something that meant a lot to her. The fact that she tracked me down just for the sword I took is proof enough,” I said.

  “I couldn’t ask anyone else to go in my stead,” Reaper said.

  “That’s noble and everything, but shouldn’t we focus on something that actually works? I don’t know about you, but I am eager to make sure Lorian never abducts another person again,” I said. “And things are going to be tricky enough with the force he’s got hanging around the house, without your nobility getting in the way,” I said.

  The others looked between Reaper and me as if they thought we were going to get in a fight. Grace looked upset with my tone of voice, obviously thinking it rude, while River looked as if I had brought up a good point.