As if he knows what I’m thinking, he stills and stops his counting at Guion’s admission.
“But we’ll do our duty. We’ll fight for the chance to protect a jewel. And if we fail, may the Great Mother welcome us into paradise with open arms.” Without a hint of humor, Roinsi has clearly already accepted all our fates.
The room is bathed in a warm glow as the first rays of sunlight filter through the skylight, serving as a reminder that the time in the arena is approaching. The end of life as we know it looms over us, and the grim reality of death awaits all but one.
“May the best male for the jewels win,” I whisper.
24
hide and seek
The other jewels have dressed me in what Yiskku says is “befitting my station.”
I stand there, with golden chains cascading over my shoulders and bare chest. To accessorize further, they painted my nipples with a coat of gold when I declined their offer to pierce them. It sounds fun, don’t get me wrong, but fun is the furthest thing from my mind. Pierced nipples or not, just like all the other women, my chest is exposed to the world.
“If Kitaico prevails, let me—the sensations will be worth it in the long run,” Yiskku whispers to me. Her tone, always tinged with annoyance, reminds me of what having an older sister might feel like.
Is she annoyed by my mere existence? Of course, but I think she wants the best for me all the same.
“I think he likes my nipples just fine,” I laugh, but a wave of guilt washes over me, instantly dampening the lighthearted moment.
As we walk down the hall, the metal censer swung by the Andjin religious leader releases a cloud of fragrant incense smoke.
I won’t allow myself to be happy until I can be sure he’s safe. With a determined look on my face, I take on a solemn attitude as we are guided down the hall toward the arena viewing tower, my heart beating faster with each step.
I don’t know if the onlookers are a regular occurrence or if the Andjin are simply curious about the human usurper, but the sight of the crowds lining the halls as we pass by is unsettling. They crane their necks to get a glimpse, some bowing their heads as we walk by.
Despite the reverence in which I’m now being viewed, it can’t help but make me think of the past.
In a humid and smoky space nightclub, the leering aliens gathered around, their curious gazes darting back and forth, consuming me with their eyes as I writhed in my security bubble, my system loaded up with aphrodisiacs. Nothing more than meat. I was something to be ogled.
Even though the Andjin keep telling me that to be a jewel is to be revered, it’s been a living hell to be separated from Kitaico. The heat suppressants work, thankfully, but I know for sure that my feelings for him run deeper—the kindhearted goofy alien really is my mate.
And this march to the arena is killing me—to know that I might never touch him again. I can only pray that this isn’t Kitaico’s funeral procession.
My feet slow as we approach the viewing bay for the arena, and I feel warmth at my palm.
When I look down, Yiskku's pale chartreuse hand is wrapped around my own.
“Come, whatever his fate is, we’ll know soon,” she mutters as she drags me through the doorway.
“How can you do it? How can you watch them die?” My breath sticks in my throat like paste, thick and bitter.
“Because they’re fighting for us, and it would be shameful not to honor that fight.” Her eyes shine with some hidden sadness.
“If he dies, I can’t —” I struggle to get the words out.
“You’re a jewel. Despite your species, you are the best of anyone on the Korlyan Moon. You will be taken care of, but you must be brave.” As her face shifts, a stony mask settles upon her emotions, hiding any sign of vulnerability. “Come.”
Yiskku deposits me in a chair next to Chancellor Hirouz. I gulp down my sadness, clearing my throat and try my best to keep it together. I can feel a small polite smile creep over my lips, but I know my eyes are vacant. My best midwestern dissociation face settles in. It must unnerve the chancellor, because at first his brows knit. But his expression softens as he hands me a glass of something strong smelling.
“Thru’ik liquor, to calm your nerves,” he says plainly.
I want to hate him for putting Kitaico and me in this position, but like almost everyone else I’ve encountered here, he’s kind. I sniff the cup, and it reminds me a bit of vodka. I swallow it down eagerly, hoping it tastes like home, but the alcohol sears my insides, causing me to gasp for breath. It’s much stronger than I thought.
“Th-thank you,” I stutter. Despite the taste, I wish there was more in the cup. I’d do anything to dull the anxiety right now.
“I didn’t realize humans imbibed in such quantities,” he laughs under his breath.
I can only imagine his face if he saw how well I could shotgun a beer—almost as much as I want his reaction with what I say next.
“This is barbaric. I want you to know that. I’m only complying because I have no other option. If he dies—”
“How could he? He’s got something none of the other hopefuls in his division have.” He raises a hand to silence me. I wonder if that’s rude in their culture.
“What does he have? Did you give him something, a weapon to gain the upper hand?” My heart swells. Could the chancellor want Kitaico to win—could he be rooting for us in secret?
“No, he has you, a mate.”
My stomach hits the ground. I want to scream.
What if I’m not enough to get him through this? What then?
But my screaming and tears haven’t gotten me anywhere yet, have they?
So instead, I face forward and plan all the ways I’ll take revenge if the worst happens. And what a view I’ll have. The dichotomy of high and low tech on the planet continues to astound me.
