42
“Are you ready, Viscount?”
“Yes.”
I tear my eyes away from the bodies dragged from the river.
All the teams have left to run towards the Inquisition dungeons for the next part of this demonic challenge, their dead teammates lying like discarded dolls on the paved riverbank.
The director wants a quick update on my thoughts about how things are going. I don’t think he’s going to want to hear what I have to say.
I look back down at the bodies of Mahsa and Dinkinesh.
The Ethiopian I hadn’t known well; I’d only spoken to her twice and the conversation had been stilted and fake.
She’d seemed extremely intelligent and had led a very interesting life, but she wasn’t anyone I was drawn to.
Mahsa, I’d liked. Although quite forceful in gaining extra time with me, she’d been gentle in her insistence that she’d make a helpful and loving wife if I gave her the opportunity.
I guess we’ll never know.
She’s dead because Cherry and her roommates from India and Cuba hadn’t bothered to get the Iranian off the bottom of the river.
They’d obviously decided to forfeit her clue in favour of a head start, just as Valérie’s team, the German and the Scottish contestants, had done with her — although I suspect for different reasons.
The Iranian, I imagine, was left because she was a threat.
The French contestant had obviously been left because she’s a liability.
There’s a reason I rarely date women from my own country outside the Game; their hysterical tendency to argue and take offense at anything and everything drives me crazy.
Valérie had thrown no surprises when I’d spoken to her at the last two cocktail parties.
I wonder how her new teammates will work with her.
Catriona doesn’t strike me as anyone who’ll put up with histrionics.
“Now, Viscount?”
I nod.
“And…Action!”
“It’s a sad day for the families of Dinkinesh and Mahsa, both beautiful women who should have had bright futures ahead of them.
I hope their families are proud of themselves for supporting their daughters’ participation in a game designed to kill the brightest and the best for the amusement of the stupidest and most grotesque. ”
“Cut!”
“Ah, Viscount. You know I can’t air that.”
“Just cut what you fucking want, that’s it.”
“How about saying something positive about, ah, bravery, or resilience? You know, all those good kinds of words. Things people expect you to want in a wife.”
I scowl as I think about what he wants. It’s true, I’d seen both those things.
I’m still surprised by Thorun’s quick thinking.
Not only had she saved, or tried to save, two other people outside her team, she’d also scored their clues.
I don’t know if she’d planned that, but that’s how it had panned out.
No one else had thought to do anything remotely similar.
Right now Catriona’s team, or perhaps I should call it Thorun’s team, are the second group to leave the riverside and head into the old Inquisition dungeons.
But they’re not alone. Valérie’s with them, having successfully and loudly argued that since her team had sacrificed her so they could leave first, she was entirely within her rights to give her clue to Thorun and join with them for the rest of the contest. Naturally Catriona didn’t agree, but Sona had argued that the fourth clue could make all the difference in giving them an advantage over the teams ahead of them.
After some deliberation they’d all run off together, Catriona being helped by Evelyn, the near-drowning having taken its toll. I imagine she and many others are going to need hospitalisation if they survive this challenge. Filthy river water on the lungs can’t be a good thing.
At least she’s still alive.
“Viscount?”
“You’ve got all you’re going to get, Gerry,” I snap. “Push me and we’ll see how resilient you are when chained to a weight and thrown into a river.”