Nomi fought back tears. Malachi had seen the letter. And now he would punish her for it.
TWENTY-FIVE
SERINA
SERINA STOOD AT the edge of the stage with Oracle. Somewhere behind her, Jacana was sitting with Gia and Theodora, Cliff was ordering the new girls not to cry, and Ember was standing near the crew, arms crossed over her chest. And above it all, the guards bet on which fighter would win. Serina wondered if Val had bet on her.
She couldn’t look for him; she couldn’t look at anything but the empty stage in front of her. In a few minutes, that pale stone would run with blood.
“Jungle Camp’s putting Venom in,” Oracle said, glancing to their left. “They must be desperate for the rations.”
“Why?” Serina asked, the word scratching her throat. Her hands tingled and her pulse pounded in her temples. The air held an electric charge, the heavy calm before the storm.
“She’s their best fighter. Stay away from her if you can,” Oracle said. “She likes to bite—coats her teeth in poison. No one knows how she withstands it herself.”
Venom caught them looking and smiled, exposing teeth filed to points. Serina thought she might vomit.
Oracle grabbed her arm to get her attention. “Pearl is fighting for the Southern Cliffs. She’s strong, with a wicked gut punch, but her knees are weak. Go for her knees.”
Swallowing, Serina nodded. She snuck a glance at the woman. With broad shoulders and narrow hips, Pearl towered over the leader of her crew. Even in the midst of her efforts to keep breathing, Serina had to ask, “How’d she get the name Pearl?”
Pearls were supposed to be small and delicate, weren’t they?
Oracle continued her inspection of the day’s champions. “She comes from a family of pearl divers. She was sent here when the authorities discovered she’d been working for the family business, even though women aren’t permitted to dive.” Oracle nodded toward a girl on the other side. “The Beach’s fighter isn’t their strongest. She’s favoring her left side, probably a training injury. Take advantage of the weakness.”
Serina wiped her damp hands on her thighs. She wondered what the other crew chiefs were saying about her. Commander Ricci strode onto the stage, and another rush of adrenaline flooded her system.
“Fighters, take your places,” he announced before heading for the staircase leading to the balcony.
Serina couldn’t seem to move her legs. The last of the daylight was fading, and a sickening thought stole through her. Had she seen the sun for the last time?
“Hotel Misery won last week, so they’re testing a new fighter. Watch her,” Oracle said. “She doesn’t look as scared as she should.”
Somehow, Serina knew Oracle was talking about Anika, the girl from in-processing with the defiant glare, even before she watched Anika take her place onstage. She was the first of the champions to do so. She’d ripped the sleeves off of her shirt, revealing her wiry, muscled arms, and pulled her hair into rows of tight braids. Hadn’t Anika said she’d been sent here for killing someone?
“I can’t do this,” Serina whispered, terror breaking over her in a wave. It wasn’t just fear for her own life. It was fear of taking someone else’s. She may have trained in the logistics of fighting, but her heart—her resolve to take a life—was entirely untested. Again, miserably, she whispered, “I can’t.”
“Petrel thought you could,” Oracle said firmly. “And I do too. It’s like being chosen as a Grace—only you get to decide who wins. And you get to be angry about it.” She gave Serina a push. “Get angry, Grace.”
Serina stepped onto the stage. And somehow, as she stared at the other fighters and at the scared, hungry women watching them, Oracle’s words sank in. And Serina’s anger rose.
Oracle was right. Every aspect of their world, down to Viridia’s prisons, pitted women against each other while men watched.
“Begin!” Commander Ricci shouted, dropping a crate into the center of the ring.
Go for the crate, Val had said.
Serina lunged for it, praying she could trust him. Behind her, one of the fighters screamed. Serina reached the broken crate and wedged it open, revealing a handful of knives. She grabbed one and threw the rest off the edge of the stage, just as someone kneed her in the spine. She went down, gasping, but if there was one thing Serina was good at, it was getting back up.
She surged to her feet, slashing outward with the knife. Pearl dodged the blow, barely, rocking back on her heels. Serina rushed her, aiming for her knees, and shoved as hard as she could. The larger woman stumbled back. Serina swept her legs while she was still unbalanced.
The woman fell, arms pinwheeling, and cracked her head against the first row of stone seating. Her body collapsed, boneless, and her eyes rolled back in her head. She was still breathing, but she didn’t get up.
Bile churned in Serina’s throat.
She whirled in time to see Venom take the Beach fighter down. The girl’s face had turned purple, and there were deep, bleeding wounds on her shoulder. Venom stepped back as her victim crumpled, and locked eyes with Serina. When the woman smiled, her spiked teeth were red. She started for Serina.
Every muscle in Serina’s body yearned to run.
A knife flew through the air, burying itself in Venom’s chest. The woman staggered but didn’t fall. Another blade found Pearl’s throat, killing her before she ever opened her eyes. Serina gasped. Anika stepped back into the ring, more knives in each hand. She must have taken advantage of the other fights to retrieve them.
Serina braced for one of the knives to find her. But Anika lunged at Venom and slashed her throat.
Spots danced before Serina’s eyes. A guard cheered. The rest of the audience watched in silence.
Three bodies lay where they’d fallen.
Don’t think. Don’t stop. Val’s voice filled her mind.
Only one more fighter. Then this would be over.
Anika turned toward Serina, brandishing a knife in each hand. Her determined frown sent ice down Serina’s spine. The wavering torchlight threw grotesque shadows across the stage, moving like ghosts.
When Anika rushed her, Serina spun away, dodging the deadly arc of her knives. At the same time, she flung her leg out. For a split second, it did feel like dancing. Then Anika went down and Serina kicked one of the girl’s hands as hard as she could. The knife went skittering across the floor with a hollow clank.
Anika let out a frustrated scream. Serina stomped on her other hand, but Anika was ready this time. She heaved her shoulder up and into Serina’s stomach. Serina staggered back a step, slipping on the slick stone. Anika slashed Serina’s arm, opening a long gash.
Fiery pain spilled out with the blood. Serina gasped. Anika lunged forward, trying to push her advantage. But Serina danced out of the way at the last second, and Anika’s momentum sent her lurching. Serina twirled and kicked the back of her knee. The girl fell hard. As Anika rolled, trying to get her feet under her, Serina kicked at her hand, sending the second knife flying.
Serina was scared Anika might have another knife hidden somewhere. She couldn’t take the chance. She dropped onto Anika’s chest, thrust her knife up against the girl’s throat, and dug her knees into her shoulders, putting pressure on the joints.
Anika struggled, but she couldn’t dislodge Serina. As she’d so helpfully pointed out when they’d first met, Serina wasn’t like the other hungry girls. Her added weight gave her an advantage now.
“Submit,” Serina growled, pressing the knife harder into Anika’s throat, hard enough to draw blood.
Anika spit in her face. “No.”
Time slowed. Serina stared at the girl. Anika wasn’t fighting to get up anymore. But her expression was still defiant, her mouth twisted and her eyes fever bright.
Serina was going to have to kill her.
All she had to do was press the knife a little harder, put her weight behind it, and she would win. Serina would be alive, and her crew would have the f
ood they desperately needed.
Just one life. Just one death.
One murder.
Serina stared into Anika’s eyes. The girl panted. There was no other sound, save the rush of wind and the thud of Serina’s blood in her ears.
Come on, Serina. You’ve already won.
“Come on, Anika, submit,” she muttered. “I don’t want to do this.”
Anika’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t, I will.”
It wasn’t bluster. The girl was deadly serious. But there was something haunted about her expression. Serina had assumed Anika was one of the violent ones. The ones who deserved to be here. She’d said it herself—she’d killed someone.
Just like you ‘stole’ something? Serina thought, her stomach lurching. Did any of them really deserve to be here? Did they deserve this? Her hand holding the knife trembled.
Anika tried to take advantage of Serina’s distraction, reaching along the stone, grasping toward one of the knives, just inches out of reach. Serina had only a second or two before the fight began again.
This was her chance to pick her own place. Make her own choice. Serina had won this moment.
The knife shook in her hand. But the blade never pushed deeper into flesh.
Her own horror screaming in her ears, Serina raised her hands. “I submit.”
Behind her, a collective gasp. Above, on the balcony, an ominous rumble of voices, echoed by another wave of whispers in the crowd.
Anika’s jaw went slack. Then she pushed Serina up and off of her.
Serina clutched the knife, her body going numb. But the conviction flowed through her, filling her up. She’d made the right call.
Anika grabbed for a knife, but she didn’t attack. She just stood there, staring down at Serina. It was against the rules to kill a fighter who’d submitted, but no one seemed to know what to do instead.
Then Commander Ricci’s voice boomed out over the silent crowd. “Get her out of here!”
Before the guards could obey, Oracle and Ember grabbed Serina and hauled her off the stage and out into the deepening night.
TWENTY-SIX
NOMI
NOMI PACED THE tiny room. Two low bunks lined the narrow walls, with one small round window letting in the moonlight. It already felt like a cell.
The boat’s movement twisted her stomach. She stared out at the silver horizon. For a moment, she thought she might be sick.
The door opened. Nomi whirled. A lantern threw light across the guard’s stony face. And beside him…
Asa.
Nomi’s breath caught in her throat.
“Thank you, Marcos,” Asa said, dismissing the guard. He closed the door and hung the lantern on a hook on the wall. Then he turned to Nomi. The space was small, and her voluminous dress took up most of it.
She was so relieved to see him she almost threw herself into his arms.
“Your brother saw the edge of the letter,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I told him it was part of the dress, but when the guard brought me here, I thought it was so Malachi could punish me.”
Asa closed the distance between them, his whip-thin body coiled tight with suppressed energy. “You have to be more careful, Nomi. I don’t like you risking so much. If anything happened to you…”
He was so close. Close enough that he could put his hands around her waist without needing to step closer. She felt the weight of his gaze as surely as she did that imagined embrace. Her own fingers ached to slide up the muscles of his arms, to feel his skin against her own.
The desire frightened her.
“I was stupid, I know.” Her cheeks flushed as she stared into his shadowed eyes. “But it’s worth the risk. I can’t—I can’t be Malachi’s Grace, Asa. I can’t live with my life in the Superior’s hands. And Serina… This will work, and we will all be free. I will be smarter next time, I promise.”
His hands touched her waist, just as she’d imagined. “I’ve never met anyone as passionate as you in all my life.”
Before she could stop herself, her hands were running up across his shoulders. He tightened his grip and then they were kissing, pressed up against the door. Golden sparks flashed across Nomi’s closed eyelids. She slipped her fingers into his thick hair as his mouth opened over hers, deepening the kiss. The boat rocked gently under them, urging them even closer.
If Serina were here, she would be horrified by Nomi’s behavior. But Nomi didn’t stop. She reveled in the spiced heat of Asa’s mouth, the soft-rough slide of his skin against hers, the feelings unfurling deep within her, washing the dark room in red.
With a little gasp, she drew back. A crimson light really was filtering through the dark. Through the window, she saw the vestiges of fireworks die. Another burst of gold and red exploded into the night sky.
“Look,” she said, awed. She’d heard of fireworks, but she’d never seen them before.
Asa wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, and together they watched the show. Nomi gasped at a huge, glittering blast of green and purple, and sighed at the feathery white tails it left as it faded.
Asa kissed the sensitive skin at the back of her neck. The last firework trailed golden threads to the sea. Gradually the smoke cleared, revealing the stars once more.
“They’ll come looking for us soon,” he murmured.
Nomi leaned her head back against his shoulder. She didn’t want to go anywhere. But if they were caught, Serina would never be freed.
She reached into her bodice for the letter. When she tried to hand it to him, he shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry. I know I said I could deliver it to Trevi tomorrow, but I won’t be able to go into town as I’d planned. Father has scheduled weapons training for me, of all things. My swordplay is as bad as my dancing.”
“What do we do?” Nomi asked in dismay.
He ran a hand down her arm. “I should be able to leave the palace in three days. But I am at the mercy of my father, just like you. He could change his mind about my activities at the slightest provocation.”
Nomi tried to quell the panic rising in her chest. That’s not enough time.
“The Heir is taking us to the city tomorrow, to a perfumery. Where is your contact? Could I deliver the letter?”
He was shaking his head before she finished her question. “It’s too dangerous. If someone were to see you—”
“You’re not saying it’s impossible,” she said, cutting him off.
Asa ran a hand through his hair. “Trevi is in the market in the grand piazza. You’d likely take a carriage from there. So, you might see him, but—”
“I can make it work. Somehow, I will.” Nomi refused to think about the risks. It was her fault Serina was in Mount Ruin. If Nomi got caught trying to save her, then at least she’d be paying for her own crime this time.
“Nomi, I don’t know. If we just wait—”
“We can’t,” she said. “It takes six days to reach Lanos, and six days back. The masquerade is in fourteen days.” She touched his face, tentative fingers on the stubbled skin of his cheek. “There’s already so little room for error.”
He sighed and pressed his face into her hand. “You must promise to be careful. If you can’t find my man, or there’s no chance to break from the group, you must abandon your effort. Promise me, Nomi. If you can’t do it, we’ll find another way.”
She kissed him lightly in answer.
His arms tightened around her as he said, “Trevi is a small man, older than my father. He wears a blue waistcoat with brass buttons. He works a stall of knives in the piazza. You’ll have to find an excuse to wander off a little distance. He won’t get close to the carriages. But he won’t balk at you giving him a note if you tell him it’s from me.”
Nomi nodded.
A sudden burst of laughter outside the door startled them both.
“You have to go,” Asa said, nudging her toward the door. “I’ll follow in a few minutes. If Malachi or anyone asks, tell them you were feeling s
easick.” He checked to make sure the note was fully hidden in her bodice. “The man who brought you here, Marcos, is loyal to me. If you need to get me a message, you can trust him to deliver it. He has shifts in the Graces’ chambers. But don’t trust anyone else. Not even your handmaiden. Do you understand?”
Nomi nodded, flustered. Suddenly, everything seemed to be happening very quickly.
“You will see your sister again, Nomi,” Asa murmured. “I promise. Now go.” With a quick kiss on her temple, he pushed her out the door.
TWENTY-SEVEN
SERINA
ORACLE AND EMBER didn’t let go of Serina until they were well away from the amphitheater. Serina stumbled over the rutted path.
The moon glowed, illuminating the hard lines of Oracle’s face. In the distance, a strange light burst up along the horizon. Serina couldn’t be sure, but she thought it might be fireworks.
The rest of the Cave crew followed. She didn’t look behind her; she knew what she’d see—disappointment. Rage.
The slash on Serina’s forearm ran with blood.
They were all silent by the time the crew flooded into the cave. Someone stoked the fire, sending sparks up toward the soot-crusted rock.
Serina expected Oracle to pull her off to the side for her lecture, but Oracle turned on her in front of everyone. “You have betrayed us, flower,” she said harshly, the standard endearment sounding more like an insult. “You had a chance to win.… Petrel died to give you that chance. Now we’ll starve.”
“Because I wouldn’t murder someone,” Serina burst out. She would not feel guilty for learning the line she could not cross. She couldn’t kill someone in cold blood. Even to feed her friends. Even to save herself. “Can’t you see how wrong that is? The guards are forcing us to kill each other for their amusement. We should be working together to make sure no one starves.”
Oracle’s eyes flashed. “I told you what happens when we refuse to fight. Not just four girls die. Everyone does. I will not put all our lives at risk because you were too weak to do what is necessary.”
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