Chapter Two #2
“The beasties will be out soon, Samantha Moon. They hunt at night and in the early morning. My magic can stop combatants from leaving the stadium, but I’ve never been able to prevent the beasties from strafing the stadium with their voluminous fire. So, be warned.”
“You said beasties?”
“Yes.”
“Great.”
I am led across the dirt pitch, itself spongy and foreign, while Baltazar continues hovering before me, kicking up nary a grain of sand or dirt, or whatever this stuff is made out of.
As he moves along, he holds his arms down at his sides, with his face tilted up.
Soon, we come to one of the many arched openings as the sky grows darker.
Somewhere far off, I catch the cry of what might have been an eagle, though I am willing to bet it is one of ‘beasties.’
“Hurry, Samantha. We must seek safety within.”
‘Within’ consists of a long and grimy tunnel punctuated with doors, archways, and narrow windows.
The walls are composed of a kind of pale yellow brick-and-plaster, stacked with bigger stones or bricks.
Through one such window, I catch sight of something massive and beautiful in the sky above.
It could have been a giant betta fish with voluminous fins.
The setting red sun lights up the flowing fin feathers as the creature wheels this way and that throughout the sky as it swims or flies; I don’t know which.
“This way, Samantha. The warriors’ quarters are down this hall.
We try to give each fighter their own space.
Bigger beings get specialized rooms. We are well-acquainted with their needs, as we have been working with their lot for centuries.
The human-sized quarters are this way. You will have your own room, you might be pleased to know. ”
“Yay.”
“You are our only female human representative this year.”
“Lucky me.”
“Not really. More than likely, you will die violently in the next few days, perhaps even during your first match. But I hope not, if that’s any consolation. You are more valuable than you know.”
“Great, then let me go and let’s talk.”
He studies me a moment, then says, “Down this hallway, please.” We hang a left down a far less dirty hallway, clearly off the beaten track.
“Unfortunately for you, Samantha Moon, you are the last combatant to arrive and, as such, you will miss out on invaluable practice time in the arena proper.” Baltazar shrugs his narrow shoulders expressively.
“But maybe that’s a good thing, though I fail to see why.
Those who arrive late are typically the first to exit the Games, usually with their heads lopped clean off or their bodies rendered in half, either side to side or head to foot.
Again, I hope you survive the Games. I quite enjoyed reliving your adventures on planet Earth.
And again, you could be of use to us... but I am getting ahead of myself. ”
We stop in front of a massive door that could have been oak.
“Here we are, Samantha. Remember, no one may enter your quarters, and you may not leave without an escort.”
“Let me guess... you are my escort.”
“Yes, though there will be a guard assigned to your room.”
He flicks his six-fingered palm, and the door swings open. It is hanging on massive iron-like hinges. The setup all looks very medieval.
“Fair warning, Samantha. You may not summon the flame in here. You will die as surely in here as out in the arena. The magic is all-pervasive. And immediate. Even experimenting with it a little bit will lead to immediate self-immolation. Death will be extremely painful. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Please do not attempt to break out. There are no windows and no other doors. The walls are impenetrable, as are the floor and ceiling. If you are caught trying to escape, you will be staked out in the open, food for the beasties. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Good. Your welcome manual is on the table over there. Your accommodations feature a bed and a bathroom. Am I to understand you require no physical sustenance?”
“You understand correctly.”
“A guard will stand outside your door at all times. You may feed from him energetically as often as you need to. He is a big guard. Please do not kill him by withdrawing excessively. Any non-arena deaths will result in...”
“Death. I get it. I will only nibble a little.”
“Very good. Familiarize yourself with the Games, and be prepared to fight tomorrow morning. You will, in fact, kick off the games.”
“Oh, goodie.”
“There is no good in here, Sam. There is only fighting, death, and punishment. In all things, you must follow the rules. There are too many warriors here and too much raw power for us to ever let any of it get out of hand. Read up and rest. The manual is in English. Your bed is a standard human queen-size bed. Sleep well. I will be back in the morning to summon you.”
He motions for me to step inside the room, which I do, highly aware that it feels more like a jail cell than a hotel room, though it looks comfortable enough.
He warns me about trying to escape, claiming he has eyes and ears everywhere.
And with that, the heavy door slams shut behind me, and I am left alone in the spacious suite.
I cross my arms over my chest and turn in a circle, scanning.
“What the hell just happened?” I mutter.