The Hunter on Arena

by Rose Estes

  Strangely, the warriors made no move to attack them as they edged ever closer. As they drew even with the silent warriors, the men moved aside, allowing them to pass. Braldt exchanged a brief, puzzled glance with the woman, but there was no answer to the unspoken question. Nor could they stop to wonder why if their freedom was to be gained. Back to back, facing their gauntlet of armed watchers, they made their way to the door.

  The warriors closed ranks behind them. Strangely, it seemed that they were barring the way behind them as though there was some reason they would want to return! The door was within reach now. Without taking her eyes from the armed guard, the woman reached up with her fist and pounded twice upon the silver square fixed to the wall. There was a moment of heart-stopping panic when it seemed that nothing would happen, then there was a low hum and the door swung smoothly open. Sweet, warm air flooded into the chamber, surrounding them with its fragrance. Birds could be heard twittering in the distance and they could hear the wind soughing through the branches of unseen trees.

  Braldt was overwhelmed by the desire to turn and run, to embrace the world after the long, enforced confinement in the strange, unnatural surroundings. His heart began to race at the thought that soon he would find Batta Flor and Keri, and be able to return to his tribe and tell Auslic all that had transpired, and seek wisdom in understanding the strange events. And then there was the woman. A way must be found to communicate with her to reassure her. But most importantly, there was the matter of the strange beings who had somehow infiltrated their world—a way must be found to deal with them. They…

  As the door slid closed, cutting them off from the silent guard, Braldt became aware that something was wrong. The woman was lowering her arm, the silver staff dangling useless at her side as she looked around in bewilderment. Braldt looked up to see what it was that troubled her and was stricken with a sense of numbing horror. The sky above was scarlet red, lit from behind low, crimson clouds by dual orbs that rode heavily above an unfamiliar horizon.

  Braldt and the woman turned to each other in horror. A low hissing filled their ears, and as their senses dimmed and they collapsed onto the blood-red earth, they knew without a doubt that wherever they were, it was not a world they had ever known before.

  5

  Consciousness returned slowly, filtering through the heavy darkness as though he was rising from the webs of a dream. Braldt clung to the illusion, for the reality of wakefulness was far worse than any imagined nightmare. Shutting out the waiting world, he went over the sequence of events in his mind, beginning with the sterile room that had begun the gauntlet of horrors.

  One thing had become increasingly clear. He was no longer on his own world. Somehow, the act of throwing the lever that had prevented the Masters from traveling between worlds undetected, had transported him off his world and into theirs. His mind told him that this was true—there was no other explanation for the events that had transpired—but stubbornly, his heart resisted accepting this fact. Would he ever see Keri again or hold her in his arms? The sense of loss was overwhelming and his chest hurt as though he had suffered a mortal wound.

  His entire body throbbed with a dull, feverish ache, and as full consciousness returned, he realized that he was experiencing actual pain. Concentrating, he shook off the last, foggy vestiges of the drugged sleep and took stock of his body. His head was radiating the pain outward in waves. He raised a hand and gingerly touched his skull with fingers that felt as thick and sensitive as rope cables.

  He found no evidence of a wound and that was reassuring. The worst of the pain seemed to be focused behind his right ear. His gesturing fingers reached and found a circlet of hard metal lying flat against his skull! A current of fear lanced through his body and he sat upright, even though the movement set off ripples of nausea.

  His vision was blurred and a sea of red dots obscured his sight. His fingers sought the object again and felt along the edges. There could be no doubt—whatever it was was firmly embedded in his skin. He dug into his flesh, trying to remove the disc, but it did not move and the effort caused him such severe pain that he nearly retched. He collapsed, his head swimming, tears running from the corners of his eyes, gagging as the pain slowly ebbed away.

  “The pain is not good, but it will pass,” said a low voice coupled with a wry chuckle that contained no humor.

  Braldt turned slowly toward the sound of the voice, breathing deeply to quell the pain and nausea, trying to clear his vision. Slowly things took shape around him. He was lying on a hard mat, similar to those he had once trained on.

  Next to him, head resting on the palm of its hand, reclining leisurely on an identical mat, was a manthing, clearly not human, but not animal either. It was taller than Braldt, but possessed the same body structure. There, however, the similarity ended, for the being was covered with a dense shag of orange fur from the top of its squarish head to its claw-toed feet. Its eyes were large and bright with intelligence, its nose (no nose in the sense that Braldt was accustomed to) was a series of flanged openings spread across the center of its face that opened and shut in random sequence as it breathed. Its mouth was quite human in shape and quirked up at one corner in a wry, mocking grin. The orange fur that cloaked its face was neatly parted below the multiple nostrils and swept down like two giant moustaches on either side of the mouth. It re-formed at the chin to form a sharply pointed beard which the creature stroked reflectively with a clawed hand. A bright silver disc had been implanted in the being’s forehead, the fur neatly trimmed along the edges. Other than a tight-fitting, silver, metallic collar that extended in a downward point nearly to the center of its furry chest, the creature wore no clothing.

  “I know it hurts,” the manthing said sympathetically, “but it’ll pass soon enough. Lie still and breathe deep; moving just seems to make it worse.”

  “Who—who are you?” Braldt asked, his tongue moving sluggishly, the words emerging thickly.

  “I am Allo,” replied the furred one as he sat up and placed a large hand with immense curved claws on Braldt’s chest. “Be still. I am not your enemy. You have nothing to fear from me.”

  “The woman… my companion,” Braldt said, struggling to rise, but helpless against the pressure of the creature’s hand and the weakness that filled his limbs.

  “She is here beside me, as are two others,” said Alio. “They are stirring and will waken soon. We must help them to accept what has happened.”

  “And what exactly is it that has happened?” Braldt asked, shoving the creature’s hand aside and sitting up despite the dizziness that filled his head.

  The furred being fixed Braldt with a calm eye. “The tone in your voice says that you believe me to be an enemy or to have played some role in our present circumstance. I assure you that neither assumption is correct. I am as much an unwilling victim as are you and your companion. I know little or nothing about this place and what has occurred. I do know that this is no longer the world that I have always known and that we have been taken as captives, although by whom or what or for what purpose, I cannot say.

  “Whatever I am, sir, it is not your enemy, and I can only assume that we are here by force to serve some other’s purpose. If we are to survive, we must become friends and rely upon each other, for surely we are alone, and without help, other than each other, and our own wits.”

  Braldt studied the furred one who regarded him with a level gaze. There was no sign of duplicity or falsehood in the dark, brown eyes. He sighed deeply and felt the anger ebb away.

  “My apologies, Allo. I am taking my anger and frustration out on you. You speak the truth—none of us asked to be here and it is those who brought us, the ones known as the Masters, who deserve our hatred.” He touched the silver disc and grimaced as pain lanced through his head. “Do you know what these are and what purpose they serve?”

  “There was another here before you,” Allo said. “It was a Galurian, a lizard-man from a portion of my world that is nought but swamp and w
ater. These Galurians are ignorant, wild beasts with a language unknowable by any save their own kind. Yet this beast and I were able to speak—communicate so far as its limited thoughts were able to form—clearly and easily in the same tongue. It was taken away soon after I wakened, but long enough for us to speak. I have been pondering the meaning since its departure. Now, you arrive, the four of you, all quite dissimilar. It is plain that all of you have been gathered from different places of origin, yet despite our different backgrounds, I suspect that we will be able to converse with ease. I believe that these discs are translators of some sort, enabling us to speak to one another despite our various points of origin.”

  Braldt rubbed his forehead. Allo’s words made sense, but still there was a sense of rage, of violation, and he wondered if he would ever get to face the unknown Masters who had so manipulated his world and his life.

  The woman stirred and moaned. Allo turned toward her. There was the sound of violent retching, and at the far edge of the room a man held his head and keened in wordless anguish. Braldt leaped to his feet and would have gone to the woman’s side, but a voice rang out inside his head, causing him to pause.

  “Welcome and congratulations, Marin of Un 7, Septua of Valhalla, Randi of Earth, Allo of 2x71, and Braldt of K7. By your cunning, dexterity, and will to survive, you have passed the trials set before you. As a result you will be spared from slavery and given the opportunity to earn glory.”

  The man at the far edge of the room scrambled to his feet and shouted, “Who are you and where are my companions?”

  The voice replied smoothly. “You must earn that answer and any others that you might wish to know. From this day forward you must cease to think of yourselves as individuals and forget your own petty dreams. You must become a team with but one brain and thought—that of survival—or you will surely perish. Welcome to Arena, and now… let the games begin!”

  As the ominous words concluded, the wall before them slid aside, drawing back smoothly and silently. Instantly, their eyes were dazzled by the brilliant, scarlet light that filled this world’s atmosphere. Braldt shielded his eyes against the blood-red glare and staggered forward. He felt a slender hand clutch his wrist and slipped his arm around the waist of the woman known as Randi, oddly comforted by her presence. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the hideous light and he took several steps forward, anxious, yet fearful of what he would find.

  There was a harsh intake of breath and the woman uttered a cry of dismay. Braldt blinked and narrowed his eyes against the bright light of the two suns now hanging at the edge of the horizon. Randi’s hand tightened on his wrist, her nails pressing into his flesh, and he saw what had caused her such alarm. The parting of the doors had revealed an arena fashioned of red, marbled stone, rising in tiers on all four sides and reaching high into the bloody sky. At the center, directly opposite them, the stone on the first tier had been carved into graceful arches and pleasant pavilions which trailed gossamer cloth in pale, pastel colors. Plump cushions could be seen piled atop the hard, stone risers; clearly this was where the royalty would be seated.

  The floor of the arena was composed of crushed, red stone and sand, the sand shifting perilously underfoot, offering little purchase. Braldt scanned the arena as he and his companions slowly stepped onto the playing field. Circling the arena below the first level of seats were a number of arched doorways, closed off and tightly barred with no hint of what might lie behind them. As they made their way into the center of the arena, they heard a smooth rumble and the doors to the chamber where they had wakened slid shut behind them, sealing them onto the playing field.

  They turned to face one another for the first time, studying each other, taking each other’s measure, for if the anonymous voice had spoken truly, their very lives would depend upon each other.

  Randi stood at Braldt’s side, defiant and proud, and from what little he had seen of her, he knew that she was resourceful and quick, a steady ally. The being named Allo stood to Randi’s left, taller than Braldt by at least two heads. He was broad in the chest and shoulders and his long arms hung nearly to his knees, ending in two curved digits tipped with sickle-like claws as long as the digits themselves and thicker than any claws Braldt had ever seen. They would be fearsome weapons. Allo’s feet were similarly constructed with an additional spur rising off the heel.

  The fourth member of their party was a manthing, the one called Marin who had challenged the voice, who was built like a boulder. His skin was black as night and rippled and shone as though it were polished rock or oiled metal; the muscles stood out in strange relief in unfamiliar patterns. Although he had a man-like form, with the appropriate number of appendages, there was something about him that was not right. His eyes were small and bright and burned with a dark rage. His head was smooth and devoid of hair and eyebrows which gave him a cold, threatening look. The bright, silver disc, positioned directly between his eyes made him appear even less than human. “What the fuck you lookin’ at?” snarled Marin, his mouth stretching into an unpleasant grimace revealing black, metallic teeth serrated along the edges.

  “Come, Marin, we are not the enemy,” Allo said gently. “We must take care not to set upon each other for surely our only chance for survival lies with one another.”

  Marin’s eyes seemed to glow for a moment, and then without even replying he swept his arm outward as though throwing a disc, and slammed it into Allo’s unprotected abdomen before any of them realized what he was going to do. Allo crumpled with the force of the blow and fell to the ground, groaning.

  Braldt would have flung himself on Marin, but Randi placed herself before him and put both of her hands on his chest. “No,” she said quietly, but with force. “There is no percentage in fighting among ourselves. It is what they would want. What chance will we have if the two of you kill or disable each other? Think about it.”

  The fifth and final member of their group, unnoticed until now, bustled forward, and Braldt saw with a shock that he was quite small and possibly deformed, built like a man but shortened and condensed, with all of his features squeezed into a fourth the space he should have taken. He was smaller than a child of five summers, but squat and compact as though four others had been squeezed into the same amount of space with him.

  He bustled across the arena with an odd, jerky swagger as though his various limbs were not accustomed to working with one another; he winked broadly at Randi and stroked her thigh as he passed. Taken aback by the unexpected gesture, uncertain whether to take offense, Randi did no more than blink before the dwarf was past her and advancing on the gentle Allo.

  “’ere, ’ere, Allo, lemme give you a hand up. I’m sure there weren’t no ’ard feelin’s intended. Just a misunderstandin’, like. We all be friends ’ere, right?”

  He addressed this statement to Marin, who stood poised, ready to strike again, even as he slid a small, muscular arm beneath Allo and helped him to his feet. Surprisingly, Marin made no comment, but merely blinked and growled at the little man who continued to chatter as he urged the stunned Allo to his feet.

  Together—Randi and Braldt in the lead with Septua and Allo following close behind and Marin bringing up the rear—they circled the arena, seeking out whatever they could learn about this new world where they were held captive.

  6

  Keri wakened.

  She did not open her eyes, dreading what she would find, putting off until the last possible moment the deep, silent darkness that she knew would be there. It had been like that since the moment Cam pulled the lever, the lever that would save Auslic’s life and prevent the Masters from destroying their world. Pulling the lever was to have solved all their problems, according to the priest who had sent them on their mission, but instead it had only made them worse. Cam had drawn the lever down, and a spiraling band of light filled with bright, shimmering particles surrounded Braldt, whirling around him and enveloping him from head to foot. When it faded, he was gone. The place where he had stood was empty;
it was as though he had never existed.

  She had screamed then and rushed toward the spot where he had stood. There was a slight tingling on her skin and the air seemed thicker, almost viscous and hard to breathe, slowing her passage. But when she reached the lever, her senses confirmed what her eyes had seen, Braldt was gone.

  The lupebeast pup who had been Braldt’s constant companion growled and bared his teeth as he sniffed the air, and Batta Flor, the Mandrelli who had led them to the chamber despite the dangers, gripped her arms and pulled her gently to his furry chest, uttering soft, meaningless words of comfort.

  In time her screams stopped and the tears slowed, and together they explored the ruined chamber for some clue, some explanation of what had become of Braldt but they had found no answer. Keri had wanted to throw the lever, reversing Cam’s actions in the hope that it would undo whatever he had done and return Braldt to them. But Batta Flor had pinned her wrists together in one of his huge hands, restraining her gently but firmly.

  “Think about what you are doing,” he said. “To do this will affect everyone on our world, undo what the three of us struggled so hard to achieve. If the lever is reversed, the Masters will once more be able to come and go freely between their world and ours. They will be free to destroy us as they had planned. The safety of our world depends upon keeping them at bay and there is no assurance that Braldt will be returned to us if you reverse the process.”

  She had looked into his eyes then and saw nothing but sorrow and compassion and knew that his grief was as real as her own. Beast whined then and pawed at the lever, sliding his muzzle along its edge, perhaps scenting the human who had won his loyalty and love. They moved to the pup’s side, their hands outstretched to comfort him and then it happened—the whirling, the bright spiral of multicolored lights that fragmented their world and drew them down into nothingness.