Halo (Blood and Fire Series (A Young Adult Dystopian Series)) (40 page)

“They’ve sat three rows behind us,” he says under his breath.

“Are there guards back there?” I ask.

He nods. “Some. I didn’t get an accurate count. They still use guns here?”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

“It’s going to be fine. There isn’t going to be a fight,” I tell him. Do I believe that? No. Definitely not. But it turns out I’m a grade A liar these days, because he turns and gives me a tight, incredibly polite smile. It makes me feel sick how good he is at this. It would suck for Ryka to be controlled in any way.

“Don’t do that,” I tell him, raising my eyebrows. My own inane, vacant smile doesn’t slip. “It makes me angry.”

A flicker of a real smile chases across his lips. “Good.”

We wait for a painfully long time while the rest of the Colosseum fills up gradually. I can tell Ryka’s desperate to move by the time they start up the fanfare lower down on the arena floor. It’s nowhere near as loud up here as I’m used to it. Down there it rattled your bones.

My fingers intertwine with Ryka’s, our hands hidden between our bodies. Our shoulders touch and his presence is almost enough to calm the ridiculous surges of panic that come in wave after wave.

“I’d be hopeless down there right now,” I murmur.

Ryka shakes his head. “You wouldn’t. You’d be better.”

“I can barely think straight up here. I’d fall apart in a match.”

“You’re wrong. You’d react quicker. Your body would take over. A good dose of fear is an excellent motivator when you’re fighting, Kit. Trust me.”

He’s probably right. I wasn’t exactly scared when I fought Sam, even though I should have been. I was quick and fluid, and I will be that again if I have to be.

“Citizens of the Sanctuary!” A static crackle tears through the air as the microphone comes to life, startling the both of us. I try to play down how badly shaken I am by fixing my gaze on the loudspeaker situated to our left. Its dirty grey plastic vibrates as the nasal voice speaks again.

“Citizens of the Sanctuary, welcome to the fifth amphi-match of this year. We thank you for your organized entry into the arena, and for pledging all bets through the appropriate channels. As usual, the matches will commence immediately. We must note there is a revision to the schedules, however. Due to illness, we have reassigned our fight finale this evening. Falin Kitsch of House Kitsch will now be fighting in place of—”

The plastic keeps rattling but I don’t hear the words coming out of it. He’s fighting. My brother is fighting. How has this happened?

“Falin Kitsch of the Kitsch household?” Ryka whispers.

“Yeah. My brother.”

“Damn. What do you want to do?”

I can feel James’ hot glare burning into the back of my head. He’s expecting me to lose it. I’m not that stupid, though. “Nothing. There’s nothing that we can do.”

Ryka grunts, and I’m grateful he doesn’t say anything else. We sit stiff as statues next to each other as the first fighters come out
―
a Belcoras daughter, dirty blonde hair and all, pitted against another girl I’ve never seen before. All I see is her red hair tied back into a neat bun at the back of her neck. She could be a Rosen or maybe a Lightwater. The alarm sounds and they step into the triangle. My knee starts to bounce up and down as I wait for them to get to it. The second alarm sounds and they rush each other, while the Therin make their supportive cooing noises right on cue. I blink fiercely as Ryka stills my knee and removes his hand before anyone can see.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

The Belcoras girl and her opponent aren’t as quick at picking each other apart as I’d like them to be. There are three other fights between now and my brother’s, and if they all take this long then it will be midnight before I get to see him. My memories of him all seem warped now. The halo robbed me of all interest in watching him fight before. I know I always thought I could beat him, but does that mean there are others out there who can, too? Has he just been lucky so far?

“Stop worrying. He’s going to win and then we’ll get him out of here, too.”

I snap my head up at Ryka, narrowing my eyes at him. “We’re taking him?”

Tiny lines form in between Ryka’s brows. “I know you’re planning on it. You may think you’re excellent at hiding things from me but I gotta say, your attempts are actually quite pathetic.”

I scowl, ignoring his jibe. “James is never going to agree.”

“Tough luck for James, then. He’s going to have to deal with it.”

The crowd below where the Trues sit splinters apart as the red haired girl lunges at the Belcoras girl. The blonde’s body goes rigid and she topples sideways, stiff as a board. It would almost be funny if it didn’t spell the end of her life. The Therin mark their score sheets even before the alarm sounds, declaring the match over. Finally.

I shudder as some of the pre-mortas kids run onto the arena and lift the limp, bleeding body from the ground. The next fight starts and I don’t even pay attention to who is called out of the tunnels. I just sit on my hands and wait. Time stands still as another girl falls into the dirt, her moment in the Colosseum brief albeit more respectable than the first match. I’m blind to anything that’s happening below. I’m also blind to the developments around me, and it’s only when Ryka pulls me closer to his body that I realize someone is trying to sit beside me. An old man with wispy white hair and deeply worn laughter lines. There is a round, fat stain on his shirt, which pulls tightly across his huge belly. He smiles at me and sits his considerable weight down before I have time to move, and I almost end up in Ryka’s lap.

“The prodigal daughter returns,” the old man says brightly. I stare at him, leaning away. Not because he’s so close, although that is rather annoying; my complete horror is closely tied in with the fact that this man is grinning at me like a simpleton. He’s a True. And he’s recognized me. My hands clamp around Ryka’s leg and I get ready to bolt. That’s the only option. That’s the only way
―

“Calm down, girl,” he says, slouching back into the stone cut step we use as a seat. “I sit up here all the time. The guards are used to it.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Ryka thankfully has his faculties about him. “You’re Opa?” he asks.

The old man nods. “I am Opa.”

Ryka affords himself a little smirk. “So that’s why they haven’t found you.”

Ingenious. The reason they haven’t discovered him is because he’s not one of the drugged masses. He’s part of the system that drugs them in the first place. I’m immediately suspicious.

“Why did you want to meet us?” And why did Cai never mention the fact that Opa was a True in his recordings? It doesn’t add up.

“You know full well why I wanted to meet with you. You’re the only way out of this gods-forsaken city for my friends.” He tosses a handful of red tickertape down onto the crowd below us like most Trues do, laughing in the most obscene way. He waves at one of the guards, who frowns at the old man and realigns his body so there’s very little chance he’ll make eye contact with Opa again. Clever old bastard.

I shake my head, knowing that James is probably hopping mad right now. Mad he’s not the one meeting with Opa. “Why are you supporting the Radicals?” I demand.

“Come, now. That’s a horrible name.”

“Whatever,” I huff. “Get to it. Answer the question.”

Opa tilts his head, looking at me. Studying me. He pats his belly and shifts so he’s watching the fight. “You’re nothing like he thought you would be, you know. He was convinced you’d be this scared little girl who needed protecting. That’s clearly not the case. Still all hard edges, aren’t you?”

My stomach churns. “We don’t have time to talk about Cai. We’re kind of in a precarious position if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Where are the others?” Ryka adds.

“The others are safe. They’re prepared to leave with you tonight. As soon as the finale match is called, you all need to go. I’ll meet you outside the front of your old house,” he tells me.

I frown, shaking my head. “We can’t. We can’t leave before the end. They’ll notice. Plus I have to make sure my brother’s okay.”

Opa’s bushy eyebrows press together to form one scruffy white line. “If we don’t move before then, the streets will be teeming with people. I’m an old man, I can’t navigate through large crowds quickly. We’ll miss our window of opportunity.”

“We can come back for him once we’ve gotten everyone past the refinery,” Ryka says, squeezing my hand.

“No!” My ears feel really hot and my eyes are pricking. I bite down the urge to curse. “James will never let us. It has to be now.” I shut down and don’t look at either of them, mainly because I know they’re talking sense and I should just agree to leave, but I can’t. He’s my brother. Ryka shifts in his seat next to me.

“I swear to you we’ll come back for him.”

“Would you leave Olivia?” I whisper. That shuts him up. I glare at the back of the Therin’s head in front of me, trying to figure out this problem. There has to be a way. The third match is drawing out and Opa is getting twitchy. “Look, I’m about to stage a way out for you. This is kind of a now or never thing.”

I refuse to acknowledge that I’ve heard him, because doing so is like admitting defeat. I’ll go along with whatever he does, but I’ll be damned if I don’t somehow make the situation work to my advantage. Opa takes my silence as a sign and then does something really unexpected. He lists sideways out of his seat and collapses onto the stairs, clutching at his chest. He groans, nice and loud for effect.

“What the hell is he doing?” Ryka squeaks. His voice is so high pitched that I break out into a terrified sweat. The guards that Opa has so conveniently irritated into ignoring us just before are not only paying us attention now, but they’re coming straight towards us. And quick.

“Crap!” I grit out.

“My chest!” Opa howls. People on the seats around us are on their feet in seconds, rushing to his side. It’s their main purpose in life, after all, to jump whenever a True needs them. Chaos ensues as guards and Therin alike all rush to try and help. Ryka pulls me back through the crowd as an announcement goes up over the loud speakers that the technicians are required in the stands.

“Time to go,” he says.

We slip away, fighting a current for the second time in as many days, only this time it’s bodies, not water we struggle against. When we reach one of the tiered exits, stairs disappearing into the dark, no one notices us. Ryka grabs onto my wrist and drags me down after him, not looking back once. I do, though. The sound of footsteps hammering after us makes me stumble as I turn to see who is following us. It’s James. The tight expression on his face tells me immediately that he’s pissed off. Seriously pissed off.

“What the hell happened?” he roars.

“Distraction,” I manage, tripping behind Ryka as he hurries on regardless. At the bottom of the stairs I realise we’ve come out into the tunnels underneath the Colosseum, the ones where I used to warm up before the matches. Ryka falters a second before I point off to the left.

“That way. There’s an exit,” I say breathlessly. Callum, Max and Raff sweep around James as Ryka tugs me away, but James pauses for a beat, staring at me with a dark look in his eyes, like I somehow engineered all of this madness. My mouth falls open but I don’t get a chance to say anything.

“Come on!” Ryka hisses, yanking on my arm. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

We run until it feels like my arm is going to come out of my shoulder socket, and it’s only when a Falin steps out into a corridor that Ryka slows his pace. He shoves the Falin out of the way so hard he falls onto his ass as we charge by, but the fighter remains silent. Or close enough. His halo clicks like crazy. Our eyes meet briefly and I recognise him; it’s the Belcoras with the mis-matched eyes that I threatened with my knife after Cai died. He looks surprised when he sees me, but he doesn’t move an inch. Then we’re gone.

“What the hell is that stupid old man thinking?” James snarls once I have directed our group out into the night air. A fanfare kicks up and my whole body locks, knowing what it means. My brother’s fight will be next. I dig my heels in so that Ryka has to stop pulling me along. He doesn’t even know where he’s going anyway.

“Stop!”

The five of them do so, and I wrestle my arm out of Ryka’s grip. “I’m not leaving without my brother.”

“Kit, I told you, we’ll come back once we’ve got everyone
―
”

I shake my head at Ryka, ignoring the pleading look in the pooled darkness of his brown eyes. “And I told you, I’m not leaving him.”

“Your brother has survived every fight he’s been in thus far, Kit. He’s going to survive this one. You think he’s going to come quietly?” James snaps.

“No.” I know he won’t. “That doesn’t mean we can’t
make
him come.”

“We barely made it out of there after that incredibly stupid manoeuvre, girl. If we live past tonight then we can talk about sending someone back another time for your family.”

I start shaking my head before he’s even finished talking. My eyes are unwavering when I lock onto James.

“No.”

He rakes his hands back through his hair and scowls at Ryka, dismissing me. “What’s the old man’s plan?”

“We’re meeting him and the others by the river near where Kit used to live. They’re going to be waiting for us.”

They talk for a moment while I stare back up at the Colosseum. The bright red banners list on the breeze and a jolt of panic rushes through me. Am I being selfish wanting my brother to come with us? Is it just because I feel so alone out there? Undoubtedly. But it’s also not fair leaving him here, killing indiscriminately because he’s told to. I clench my fist, feeling pain. I look down and see red; there’s blood across my knuckles. I must have scraped my hand when I was running. I’ve already lost so much blood to this Colosseum, too much of it has seeped into the dirt floor and the sandstone walls. I’m furious that it’s cost me this ridiculously small amount now. There’s no way I want it to claim any more of my brother’s.

I’d like to say none of them notice me when I slink quietly away from the huddled group of men, but that would be a lie. Every single one of them does. James pulls himself up straight and comes for me.