Legend

Finally Kaede taps me frantically with her other hand. I release her. She collapses to the ground on her knees and her good arm. The crowd goes nuts. I clutch my bleeding side as tightly as I can, and when I look around, I see money exchanging hands. Two people help Kaede out of the ring (she shoots me a look of hatred before she turns away), and the rest of the onlookers start up their chant.

“Choose! Choose! Choose!”

Maybe it’s the dizzying pain from my wound that makes me reckless. I can’t contain my anger anymore. I turn without a word, roll my shirtsleeves back up to my elbows, and flip my collar up. Then I step out of the ring and start shoving my way out of the circle.

The crowd’s chant changes. I hear the boos start. I’m tempted to click my microphone on and tell Thomas to send soldiers, but I keep silent. I’d promised myself not to call for backup unless I had no choice, and I’m certainly not going to ruin my cover over a street brawl.

When I’ve managed to walk outside the building, I risk a look behind me. Half a dozen of the onlookers are following me, and most of them look enraged. They’re the gamblers, I think, the ones who care the most. I ignore them and continue to walk.

“Get back here!” one of them yells. “You can’t just leave like that!”

I break into a run. Curse this knife wound. I reach a large trash bin and swing myself up onto it, then get ready to jump to a second-floor windowsill. If I can climb high enough, they won’t be able to catch me. I leap as far as I can and manage to grab the edge of the windowsill with one hand.

But my wound has slowed me down. Someone grabs my leg and yanks hard. I lose my grip, scrape myself against the wall, and crash to the ground. I hit my head hard enough to send the world spinning. Then they’re on me, dragging me to my feet and back to the screaming crowd. I fight to clear my head. Spots explode across my vision. I try to click my microphone on, but my tongue feels slow and covered with sand. Thomas, I whisper, but it comes out as Metias. I blindly reach out a hand for my brother, and then I remember that he’s no longer there to take it.

Suddenly I hear a pop and a few shrieks, and in the next instant they release me. I fall back to the ground. I try scrambling to my feet, but stumble and fall again. Where did all this dust come from? I squint, trying to see through it. I can still hear the noise and chaos from the onlookers. Someone must’ve set off a dust bomb.

Then there’s a voice telling me to get up. When I look to my side, I see a boy holding out his hand to me. He has bright blue eyes, dirt on his face, and a beat-up old cap on, and at this moment, I think he might be the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.

“Come on,” he urges. I take his hand.

In the dust and chaos, we hurry down the street and disappear into the afternoon’s lengthening shadows.

SHE WON’T TELL ME HER NAME.

I can understand that well enough. Lots of kids on the streets of Lake try to keep their identities a secret, especially after participating in something illegal like a Skiz fight. Besides, I don’t want to know her name. I’m still upset about losing the bet. Kaede’s defeat cost me a thousand Notes. That was money toward a vial of cure. Time is running out, and it’s all this girl’s fault. Stupid me. If she hadn’t been responsible for getting Tess out of the ring, I would’ve left her to fend for herself.

But I know Tess would’ve given me sad puppy eyes for the rest of the day. So I didn’t.

Tess continues to ask questions as she helps the Girl—that’s what I’ll call her, I guess—clean the wound in her side as best as she can. I stay quiet for the most part. I’m on guard. After the Skiz fight and my dust bomb, the three of us ended up camping out on the balcony of an old library. (Does it still count as a balcony if the whole wall has collapsed and left this floor open to the air?) In fact, almost all the floors have collapsed walls. The library is part of an ancient high-rise that now lies almost entirely in the water several hundred feet from the lake’s eastern edge, completely overgrown with wild grasses. It’s a good place for people like us to find some shelter. I watch the streets along the banks for angry gamblers who might still be searching for the Girl. I look over my shoulder from where I sit on the balcony’s edge. The Girl says something to Tess, and Tess smiles cautiously in return.

“My name’s Tess,” I hear her say. She knows better than to say mine, but she keeps on talking. “What part of Lake are you from? Are you from another sector?” She studies the Girl’s wound. “That’s a nasty one, but nothing that can’t heal. I’ll try to find some goat milk for you in the morning. It’s good for you. Until then you’ll just have to spit on it. It’ll help with infections.”

I can tell from the Girl’s face that she knows this already. “Thank you,” she murmurs to Tess. She glances in my direction. “I’m grateful for your help.”