Survival Rout

by Ana Mardoll

  I grin at her explanation, turning my head to wipe my face on the mattress before leaning in to steal a kiss. "You're sure I didn't hurt you? Not just down there, but all over?"

  Her sleepy smile is like sunshine in the darkness. "I feel weightless," she whispers, nuzzling into me. "You didn't hurt me at all. Promise."

  I kiss her nose, relishing the rush of relief accompanying her words. "You'll be here at first bell, won't you?" Already the prospect of being separated stabs with almost physical pain. "You won't slip out? If we wake early enough, I might be able to do this again." I dangle the offer shamelessly, sore jaw be damned.

  "Mmm." She hums in my arms, her eyes closed while a smile steals over her face. "Don't be counting on me to forget, Keoki." She yawns and drifts away, leaving me alone to count the moments as they slip away.

  Chapter 23

  Aniyah

  I wake disoriented. Blinking up at the glowing ceiling, I try to steady my breathing. I'm stiff and sore, each of my limbs as solid as the stone bed underneath me. I wonder, not for the first time, whether I slept on stone in my earlier life or if, somewhere, there is a world with more comfortable bedding than this. I'm not sure what it would look like—gauze strung in the air between pillars? towels fluffy enough to float in the pool?—but I'd be willing to try anything at this point.

  The boy beside me is snoring, his nose tucked into the elbow he's slung under his head. I smirk, wondering whether I ought to wake him. I haven't heard any bells, but there's a rustling of movement in the cavern outside and I wonder if Handler is setting out food. If he's here with his cart, then it must be close to first bell. I'd better get dressed, I decide; I don't want Handler banging on the door while I'm naked.

  Problem is, I can't move my limbs or bend at the waist to sit up. I lie still, trying not to panic, and concentrate on flexing my fingers and toes. Over and over in slow repetition, I move my extremities and feel my muscles pull with the effort. One. Two. Three. Ouch! Prickles cover my legs, hot little stabbing pains. The panic I've been pushing back threatens to pounce; what if I'm stuck here, paralyzed forever?

  C'mon. Shut up. Push! I shove against the stone with my fingers and manage to roll myself over the side of the bed. My legs swing around in time, for which I'm thankful, because the alternative is to fall flat on my face. I end up on my hands and knees on the floor; not graceful, but out of bed at least. Now that I'm warmed up I'm able to move my limbs, but every motion—every breath—is agony. Maybe this sharp increase in pain is my new reality, but I don't know how long I can survive like this. Something is going to give.

  Shoving that thought aside, I scoop up my clothes and straighten with effort. I hear popping along my spine as I stand, but upright is still a victory. I can't move my arms around to manage the pretty twists and knots that Chloe draped me in before so I just wrap my clothes around me like a towel and tuck in the tail end of the sheet at the top, under my armpit. I'm decently covered and it's not like I'm supposed to be seducing anyone; Handler probably won't complain. I hope.

  I hear first bell clang, followed by a low bellow from the cavern outside: "Prizes! Assemble for return to the vault." I turn to the door, but the boy on the bed stirs and catches my wrist.

  "Mmph. Aniyah?" The words are mumbled into his arm, which glistens with a hint of drool. I try not to giggle, but he's adorable like this, especially in contrast to his previous bravado. I can't imagine he'll be good to pleasure anyone until after he's eaten and had a good stretch to wake up, the sleepy-head.

  I reach out with my free hand and ruffle his long curls. "Handler's calling me, Keoki. I have to go. Do you want to come with? I imagine there's food."

  He opens bleary eyes, blinking away the crust formed along his long eyelashes. "But you're so warm," he mutters. He seems to realize he's holding my wrist, thereby causing me to stoop over the wall niche holding the bed; he releases me with an apologetic grimace. "Sorry. Um. Shit. Do you really have to go?"

  I blink at his plaintive tone. I hadn't been sad up to this point; I'd been focused on basic necessities like being able to move and dress and breathe without passing out from the pain. I'd been eager to get back to Miyuki, too; I need to hear xie had a safe time tending Justin or hanging out with Tony. What I'd not been focused on was this boy and whether I'll ever see him again. He could die at any time. Or he could live, but I might never be sent to him. It's not like with Miyuki, where I see xer every cycle.

  "We'll do this again soon," I whisper, touching his curls with the tips of my fingers and hoping I'm not lying. "You'll win me in a match and we'll get to be together again. And you wanted Tony to meet me, right?"

  He brightens, sitting up in bed and yawning until his jaw cracks. "Yeah, that's the plan. But, man, it seems like this went by way too fast, you know? I gotta ask Handler for longer next time. You said there's food?"

  I grin at his easy acceptance and stand back so he can hop up. I can't help him dress—I can barely move to the door without groaning in pain—so I wait and smile at him whenever he looks at me with those warm eyes. He's sweet and I like him, and I hope he doesn't die. I remember Chloe's ashen face when the pillar fell on Christian and feel a stab of fear. This place is dangerous, and I already care about more people than I can protect. How do I keep myself alive, and Miyuki and Keoki and Tony? And what about the others? I don't want anyone to die, yet this place seems designed to destroy everything good.

  "You ready? Sure?" Now that he's up and awake, he's all bounding energy again. He reaches for the door, but pauses before opening it. "One last thing," he announces with a sly grin before leaning in to steal a long kiss.

  I giggle and push at him, trying not to laugh. "Hurry, we'll get in trouble!" He smirks shamelessly and pushes the door open, taking my hand as we stumble blinking into the torchlit cavern.

  The scent of freshly-cooked food assaults my nose and causes my stomach to clench greedily. Meat dripping with hot grease, bowls of thick grain belching wisps of steam, and the yeasty aroma of fresh bread. Smaller bowls swim with syrupy fruit ready to be spread upon bread. It's a feast as good as anything I've seen here, all laid out on a silver cart that flashes firelight back at my sensitive eyes.

  "Food for the boys," Handler says, his tone stern. His eyeless gaze picks out my face among the dancing shadows of the room, and I check my step as Keoki stumbles forward lured by the siren scent of the food.

  "Aw, they can eat with us, can't they?" Keoki asks, plopping down and reaching for a basket of bread. "There's plenty here and they worked hard." I'm amazed he has the courage to talk back to Handler, though I notice Keoki doesn't meet his sightless gaze.

  "The Prizes eat in their vault." Handler's voice is colder than deep water in shade. Even from this distance, I can feel a fresh wave of fear rolling from the tall man and I shiver.

  A door opens and Miyuki emerges from a dark room, swipes of dried blood staining xer white clothes. Xie places xer hand along the wall and follows the curve of the cavern away from Justin's room. I stretch out my hand to catch xers; xie returns my squeeze with an easy smile while magical relief pours into my hand and works up my stiff arm and shoulders. "How is he?" I whisper, but xie just shakes xer head.

  I'm about to press for details when another door opens across the cavern, the occupants summoned by Handler's command and the scent of food. Hana and an attractive white boy with an even whiter smile stumble out, looking utterly exhausted and coated in a thin sheen of sweat. The boy's grin broadens further at the sight of food and he punches her lightly in the upper arm before jogging off to join Keoki.

  Chloe emerges with Christian from his room, the pair of them a tangle of entwined arms. Christian claims a long kiss, his hands tightening in her red hair, before reluctantly disengaging and working his way in the general direction of the food; from his unsteady walk, either he's love-struck to the point of dizziness or he got almost no sleep. I feel heat rise to my cheeks with unexpected embarrassment, feeling like I've failed by not keeping Keoki
occupied longer. I hadn't thought he minded my falling asleep, but it's not like I asked.

  The next two couples to emerge put my mind somewhat at ease. Imani steps out of a room as the boy behind her holds the door politely; when he walks out into the firelight, I recognize Tony. Keoki's boy. His expression is solemn but Imani whispers in his ear and his lips twitch. He nods and jogs off to join the other boys, his demeanor kind without being clingy. When the older boy with the cane emerges from his room with Heather slouching behind him, they both seem well-rested and ready enough to part ways: he leads her on his free arm to Handler, but she doesn't look his way or speak a word to anyone.

  I'm sorry to leave the food and sorrier still to be parted from Keoki, but I have Miyuki's hand in mine and that more than makes up for anything I'm losing. I smile at xer and turn to guide xer out with Handler when I'm distracted by the sound of a door to our left. I'm turning my head towards the sound, trying to remember who is missing from our group, when Sappho emerges and the world crashes down around me.

  She's been beaten. She hangs her head so that her hair falls to cover what it can, but ugly glimpses peer out with every step. The skin around her right eye is bruised a deep blood-red in a circle as wide as a fist. Her upper lip is split and coated in a thick film of dried blood. Her arms, legs, and knees sport purple and black bruises that stain her tattoos and cause her to shuffle in a pained, uneven gait. She stumbles over the threshold of the room and falls forward, the ground rushing up to meet her face.

  I don't have the power to jump forward and wouldn't reach Sappho in time to catch her even if I did. Several of the boys leap to their feet and I hear Hana gasp, but it's Lucas who catches her; his hand snakes out from the dark to pull her back by the shoulder and steady her with a rough shake. He closes the door behind them. "You're fine," he tells her, his voice rough as stone. "Walk properly."

  She shivers at his touch but stays upright. I swallow hard and realize Miyuki is squeezing my hand so hard it hurts; xie can't see most of this, but the tension in the room is palpable and xie would have noticed the shapes of the boys leaping up from their seats. Handler breaks the silence, his words freezing the blood in my veins.

  "Your Prize is damaged, Scoria. Was she not to your liking?" His gaze lands on Sappho and she winces again. "That one has been with us a long time. Perhaps she has lost her luster. We could acquire a new Sapphire."

  No one in the room breathes. Hana tightens her fists until pricks of blood appear under her short nails, the cuts healing instantly as golden magic thrums through her skin. I want her to save Sappho, to save all of us, but I realize with a sinking pain in my chest that she can't.

  Motion catches my eye and I twist my head to see the boy with the cane step forward. It's just one step but the movement is enough to catch every gaze. He glares daggers at Lucas from the center of the cavern, and the sandy-haired boy has the good grace to look almost ashamed.

  "Nah," Lucas says, clearing his throat and meeting Handler's face. "She was good. We had fun. You like to play rough, don't you, baby?"

  He gives Sappho a little shake of the shoulders and she clenches her eyes tight. "Sure," she whispers, the word dropping like a stone from her lips.

  Handler is silent for a moment that spins into an eternity. "Back to the vault," he barks, turning his empty cart and wheeling it towards the massive iron doors. The seven of us dart forward as quickly as we can, Hana and Imani taking Sappho between them, and leave the boys behind us without looking back.

  Never has our room seemed more like home; the sunlit cavern with its babbling waters and sparkling table is a sanctuary, away from the smoky subterranean rooms where boys lurk. We tumble into our vault as soon as Handler opens the doors, Sappho and I limping, and Miyuki stumbling without the aid of xer glasses. The other girls help us to the table, but Hana straightens and frowns at Handler's back when he turns to go.

  "You're coming back with food?" she asks, her tone carefully neutral.

  "Eventually," he replies in a cold tone as the doors slam closed behind him.

  My stomach cries in protest at the implication of his words, but there's little we can do. We're trapped in here, and he'll either bring us food or we will starve. I sink into the cushions by the table and slump over on my elbows, the muscles in my back screaming from the effort of our walk. Sappho sits nearby with her head hunched over her knees, silent and miserable.

  "Hon, are you okay?" Imani whispers, settling down beside Sappho. She looks as though she'd like to hug her, but keeps her hands back for the moment; from the look of Sappho's bruises, there aren't many places available to touch without hurting her.

  Hana sits cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the table. "What happened?"

  Sappho takes a deep breath and shakes her head, staring at the floor between her feet. When she speaks, her voice is a slow mumble and we have to strain for each word. "During the Auction. I covered for Aniyah. Dragged him off so she could slip away. He figured out what I did. Got angry. Picked me. Did this."

  Her words are a fist wrapped around my heart, squeezing with all its might. "Oh, Sappho. I didn't know. I didn't think. I'm so sorry, I— If I'd known, I never would have gone. I'm so sorry."

  "I know," she whispers, closing her eyes. "You didn't make him lose his temper. He does that on his own."

  Chloe vibrates with fury on the other side of me. She slams her fist into the ground and my eyes widen as a little crater forms in the solid rock. "That ass. He could have picked anyone else! He had the whole room to pick! So he didn't get one of the newbies, so what? He has to beat one of us up over it? And not Hana or me, not someone who could fight back. Coward." She all but spits the last word.

  "He doesn't like it when he doesn't get his own way." Heather's voice floats over the table, dull and soft. "He wants to be in control. It frightens him when he's not."

  Hana shakes her head. She's breathing through her nose trying to stay calm, but her eyes are as murderous as Chloe's. "He's always been a problem. Even when you cater to him, Heather, he still works out his aggression on you. Just because you can't feel it doesn't make it okay. Never has." She takes another long breath, her gaze studying Sappho's bruises. "But this crosses a line."

  "What do we do?" Miyuki's voice at my elbow is steady steel, as sharp as an arena sword. "There's got to be something we can do, right?"

  Heather perks at this, sitting up straight at the table and putting on her cheeriest smile. "Let's complain to Handler!" she suggests in a chirrupy tone. "I'm sure he cares! Oh, babe, no, don't start that," she adds in her normal tone as Sappho's expression crumples and tears come at last. "C'mon, let's get you in the pool. It's gonna be okay. You've seen worse on me, right? And I got better. You will too."

  With a gentleness I wouldn't have thought she could display, Heather helps Sappho to her feet and leads her to the healing pool. Looking at her wounds, I can't imagine it will do a damn thing except to take the worst edge off, but I know as well as anyone here that's better than nothing. I turn back to the others, feeling utterly miserable.

  "This is all my fault," I admit, unable to meet Hana's eyes. "Lucas was flirting with me. Or trying to. I wasn't feeling well and I just wanted to go with Keoki. Sappho rescued me and I ran off without even thinking. Of course he'd be mad."

  Imani reaches out to touch my shoulder, her warm brown eyes brimming with sorrow. "Hon, how could you have known? We're told to please the boys. You did that. You went off with the one who asked. You made him happy. You couldn't know a different boy would hurt a different girl on account of you not being able to please two at once."

  "But I—"

  "Don't," Hana says, her curt voice cutting me off. "Look, even if you'd gone off with Lucas and even if he hadn't roughed you up, it's just as possible Keoki would've hurt someone else because he didn't get you. That's always the risk we take: their disappointment and fear and anger and resentment get taken out on us. Don't try to take responsibility for it, because it doesn't w
ork like that."

  I look up, shaking my head slowly. "Keoki wouldn't do that," I tell her, but I hear the doubt in my voice. "He's not like that." At least, I don't think he would. I glance to Miyuki, searching xer eyes behind xer glasses, seeking confirmation that Keoki was kind to xer, that he never hurt xer. How well do we really know him? Any of them?

  Miyuki frowns, lost in xer own thoughts. "There must be something we can do," xie insists. "He can't just get away with this like it's nothing."

  Chloe laughs, but the sound is bitter and joyless. "There's plenty of things. None of them are fun."

  "Tell me," Miyuki insists.

  "You give them what they want," Imani murmurs, turning away from us to study the far wall.

  I blink. "How is that revenge?"

  "You fuck them," Hana says, her voice flat. "You find their weak points; they all have them. The arena is rough. They tear muscles or break bones, and rarely heal clean. Bad knees, bad elbows, soft spots around the ankles. You ride them hard and hit where it hurts. Chloe doesn't know her own strength. Imani uses her nails without thinking. Me, I have a bad habit of kneeing sensitive areas while in the throes of passion."

  Imani sighs, magic rippling in her shifting face; I realize she's using her talent to keep her face steady. Somehow this seems sadder than if she'd just cried without reservation. "Hurting them is easy," she says, meeting my gaze. "Wounding them enough to make a difference in the arena is harder. But you learn. We all learned."

  "How do you keep them from telling on you?" Miyuki demands, frowning at Hana. "Don't they complain to Handler?"

  "You'd be surprised how few boys are willing to admit they can't handle a girl in bed," Chloe drawls, leaning back to stare up at the sunlight.

  "It's still a risk," Miyuki argues, staring unhappily at xer hands. "There's got to be a better way to fight back."

  I stand slowly, all my thoughts reserved for the nearby pool. I can't think about this now, and I'd be no good at fighting even if I could; I can barely move, let alone ride a boy to harm. There's got to be a better way than this, I think, almost echoing Miyuki's words. There has to be somewhere better for all of us.