“You’re done for now. Get some food.”
I stalk past him toward the mess hall. I don’t know why I’m annoyed. The trapped feeling? The forced fighting? The fact that Helene has to murder another person in order to find her lost four-year-old daughter?
Sure, we’re trapped in this “New World,” but who created this structure? Who decided this was how people earned citizenship or a right to live?
I see Helene down the hall, entering the holding place between training and an Arena fight. My feet carry me there instead of toward lunch. Helene talks to the tiro. She’s going into another fight, and for some reason I want to make sure she comes out of it alive.
Several other noxiors wait in the holding space. Their demeanors are completely different from what I witnessed before my first fight. These people hold weapons and stand straight and determined.
One young girl—maybe twelve years old?—stands apart from the other noxiors. Her bronze hair is braided and tied in knots at the base of her neck. Her gaze is firm and forward—toward the Arena—and a shield is on her arm.
Why is a kid here? Is she some sort of tiro in training? One of the orphans Luc mentioned?
The chants of the crowd come through the ceiling, and the gatekeeper inserts his key into the padlock to let me in.
“No.” Crixus steps up beside me. The gatekeeper pauses, then slips the key back into his pocket. “This isn’t your level,” Crixus tells me. “You’re still training, Cain.”
“Train? You mean poke at a mannequin in isolation?” We’re all infected, doesn’t he get that? Every five minutes wasted here in the Nightmare is a minute of life lost in the Real World. I’m not allowed to leave the Arena until I’m a citizen. And since my own cure didn’t work, I’ll definitely be spending more time here in the Nightmare.
There are places to explore, things to learn, intel to gather about this dreamscape. If Spores and children can wake up from the Nightmare at will, there’s got to be some escape. Which means I need to compete. Impress the crowd. Get them to award me my citizenship as soon as possible.
They went wild when I killed the nightbeast bull. If I can keep doing things like that and prove my prowess and skill, why couldn’t I get my citizenship without killing another noxior?
The crowd quiets as Luc’s voice echoes over the Arena, following a similar script as last time. The boy, Eddie, enters the center of the Arena.
“The fights get more difficult as they progress,” Crixus warns in my ear, though it doesn’t sound like he’s trying to deter me, more like he’s disappointed. “You could go far with the right training.”
“Then tell me how to make more things from nightmist,” I hiss. “How did I get the wings? How did I make the spear?” If I can create weapons from nothing—which is apparently a big deal—then I can fly through these fights, or even fly out of the Arena to explore.
“It comes down to controlling your emotions. You’re nowhere near being able to do that yet.”
“I created the spear and wings, didn’t I?” I don’t tell him about the kris dagger at my hip. Let him believe Luc gave it to me. He doesn’t need to know I made it.
“A lucky accident that came from your wildness. You need to deny your anger. Tame it.”
“That doesn’t seem to be Luc’s view.”
The crowd cheers, and a mother runs across the sand to embrace Eddie.
“There are different ways to teach,” Crixus continues, unmoved by the reunion of mother and child. Calloused. Even the victories in this place feel like defeats.
“I have my job for a reason. Every single citizen of Tenebra exists because I kept them alive. We put you through the Arena fights so you learn to control your heightened emotions in a secure environment.”
“Secure environment? You’re making us battle nightbeasts.” Their terminology still feels strange on my tongue.
“Secure environment for us, the citizens. It keeps us safe until you’re safe enough to live around.” Crixus turns and speaks to the tiro with the key. A dismissal.
My irritation spikes and immediately feels beyond my control, which only serves to incense me further. My emotions are proving him right. Why can’t I control them? What does he mean “deny them”? I’ve never been such a victim to my emotions.
“Just get me in a fight,” I grind out.
Crixus must sense the building of my anger because he looks me up and down. I think he’s giving it real consideration. “No.”
He disappears down the hall.
I’m breathing hard, and I try to hold back the burst of frustration. For a few seconds, at least. My mind creates visions of hurtling after Crixus, shoving him against the wall. Some semblance of sanity remains long enough to turn my body around so I slam a fist into the Arena gate instead.
The gatekeeper jumps away. Helene raises her eyebrows and folds her hands, as though curious what I’ll do next. One noxior nudges his buddy and snickers, pointing. They’re not afraid, they’re ready for a fight.
The little girl, however, backs into the shadows, pulling her shield tight to her chest. A long red scab, as if from a burn, curls up her neck.
“Let me in,” I growl.
“Sorry, noxior.” The gatekeeper plants his hands on his belt. “Not your fight today.”
“Let me in!” Smoke bursts from my body. It dissipates only to reveal a wicked black chain rope around the gatekeeper’s neck. His eyes bulge—more in shock than strangulation.
I stagger back, and the chain rope melts into thin air.
The other noxiors go silent. No nudging and laughing now. The gatekeeper catches his breath, then without a word, steps forward and unlocks the gate.
“Best get you killed sooner rather than later,” he mutters.
“We’ll see,” I say, but for the first time I wonder if Crixus is right. Am I a danger to all these other people? A danger to myself? Maybe I do need training. But if only they knew why I’m so impatient: I’m trying to save people in the Real World.
The silence of waiting for the upcoming fight almost makes the snowball effect of my thoughts worse. There are no distractions to slow them or stop them. Like the opening of a floodgate, my emotions multiply. Frustration at how oblivious these Tenebra people are. Anger that Luc will keep me in the Arena unless I agree to work for him. Fury about how the Spores killed Nole. Why didn’t they drag him away like they did Erik? Why kill Nole without reason?
My thoughts screech to a halt.
