Chapter 24

Game On

Balthazar’s eyes burned with the fierce intensity of a true warrior. “Pretty much.”

She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun as the grommets surged forward into the stadium. Thunderous applause and a vociferous roar rolled around the arena. The stands were packed with thousands of hazy faces and muted colours. Something brushed past her head, ripping at her scalp. Her fingers came away warm and sticky, stained crimson. The grommet to her right smashed face first into the dirt, an arrow protruding from his back. She slammed to the ground, flattening herself against the dirt.

The twang as multiple arrows left their bows was followed by the wet, dull thunk as they found a target. She scrambled away from a lifeless body that collapsed across her legs and searched frantically for the source of the arrows.

Blindfolded Timesurfers lined the stone edge of arena’s roof. Arrow feathers glinted over the curve of the archers’ bare shoulders. Black singlets pulled taut across their chests as they reloaded silver bows and fired with mechanical precision. An arrow grazed Cate’s arm. She scrambled over a motionless lion and ducked behind it. Her cheek pressed against its surprisingly soft and warm belly. Multiple arrows protruded from its body. Blood seeped around the gaping holes in the grimy tan coat. It resembled a ghoulish Dalmatian.

Balthazar commando-crawled her way, gesturing frantically. Timesurfers who lined the other side of the arena catapulted flaming metal balls into the air. He threw his body across hers, and a flaming cannonball bounced off him and rolled onto the dirt.

“You’re fireproof?”

He nodded.

She snatched an arrow from the air heading directly for Balthazar’s ear. The smoke from the flaming balls made visibility poor. Cate closed her eyes and listened for the arrows and flaming balls. All that time training blindfolded with Jonah now had a purpose. She grabbed Balthazar’s shoulders and rolled them both to the left. An arrow landed exactly where their heads had been a second before.

“Thanks.” Balthazar launched them both over the dead lion. A hail of arrows embedded in the ground where they had lain. They landed with a thud, followed by a solid crack as her head smashed into Balthazar’s nose. Warm, wet blood sprayed across her cheek.

“Not the thank you I was looking for,” Balthazar groaned.

“Sorry, sorry.” She put her fingers over his nose, which now had a definite lean to the right. “Be better, be better, be better.” In less than a second, his nose was perfect again. There was no hint of the bloody mess from a few minutes before. The blood was even gone from her hands. It was like she’d pushed a rewind button.

She crawled to a grommet with three arrows protruding from his chest, unaware if he was dead or alive. She grasped his hand. He thrashed and struggled to his feet. His eyes glowed violet as he scurried to the other end of the arena. He had been dead. “You’re welcome,” she muttered. The crunch of bone shattering and fiery pain that tore through her leg signalled one of the flaming balls had struck her thigh while she had been distracted.

“Hold still.” Balthazar pressed her hand hard on the charred flesh of her thigh. “Clear your mind and heal it.”

She howled some very unladylike words at him. Black spots floated across her eyes and the noise around her dulled. Chills rippled through her body as ice crept along her veins. Her head slumped against the earth, now damp and tacky with blood.

“Don’t be such a girl. It’s barely a flesh wound,” Balthazar yelled.

“Are you calling me a girl and attempting to quote Monty Python?”

Balthazar grinned. “Yes indeed.” He touched his ear and pointed to the sky. “Hear that?”

It was silent. The arrows and fireballs had stopped.

Balthazar jumped nimbly to his feet for such a big oaf. “Mend your leg because I have better things to do than protect your sizable butt all day. Let’s regroup. Preferably well away from the dead lion that the very-much-alive lions are coming to eat.”

She braced against the dead lion’s back and squirmed into a sitting position. The fiery pain in her thigh spiked each time she twisted. Shards of bone protruded from what looked like a mangled, raw steak. Shredded sinew and charred flesh had melted on her jeans. Her stomach heaved, and she leaned away and vomited.

Balthazar held her hair back from her face. “Gross. You never were good with blood. Put your hand on your leg and make it better.”

“B...b...b...better,” she stammered as tears welled in her eyes.

“There’s no crying at the Grommet Trials,” Gaspar snapped from over Balthazar’s shoulder. “Warriors don’t cry. Move away from that dead lion. I’ll do weapon recon.”

“I’ll go and investigate possible alliances and collaborations.” Balthazar jogged toward the group of grommets at the far end of the area.

The pain vanished from her leg and the mangled mess disappeared. Her clothes were no longer torn and the blood was gone. Battered grommets lay scattered around the arena. Those dead were silent and glassy eyed. The pain and fear of their last moments would remain frozen on their faces forever. Pleas for help punctuated the tortured moans of those close to death. Shrieks of agony hung like a thick fog in the air.

Two lions lay dead. Sinew and skin rained down as the three other lions ripped and tore the arms and a leg from the girl who had stood next to her in the holding pen. The lions flopped on the blood-soaked ground; the wet, squelching sounds of teeth chewing flesh mixed with the snapping and crunching of bones turned her stomach. There were fourteen grommets left, including her.

“The ‘don’t die’ plan is working a treat so far.” Mel placed his arm, now freckled with blood, on her shoulder and winced. His shirt was soaked crimson from a huge gouge down his side.

“I’ll try and mend your injury.” Her voice sounded robotic and flat.

Mel winced as he lifted his arm. “It’s self-inflicted. I fell on the flail. That’s one sharp, pointy ball. It’s excellent for smacking lions with though.” A wide grin spread across his face.

Mel might be enjoying this bloodshed a little too much. Her fingers squelched against his bloodied shirt as she touched the spongy gash. Before she closed her eyes or even thought about it healing, the skin had mended and his black T-shirt was clean again.

He shuddered. “That freaks me out every time. Your ability to turn back time and delete a little pocket of history is awesome.”

“I can turn back time?”

Mel nodded.

That was why the blood always disappeared.

Gaspar zigzagged across the arena, his arms loaded with weapons collected from the dead grommets. The lions’ incandescent yellow eyes followed him as they continued to chew lazily, their muzzles and teeth coated crimson with sticky blood.

Balthazar was back from speaking to the grommets huddled at the far end of the arena. “I can’t get the other grommets on board. You’d think the fact Mortez is my mother would make them scared enough to do what I ask, but apparently not.”

“We stand a better chance if we work together. Surely they see that?” There was desperation in Cate’s voice. Her calf muscles had started to cramp, and her arms felt heavy.

“We’re the enemy,” Mel interjected. “They would throw us to those lions in an instant.”

“They don’t even know me,” Cate snapped. “I could be a very nice person!”

“You’re guilty by association,” Mel said.

“Back in,” Balthazar called as Gaspar reached them. Putting their backs together gave them 360-degree visibility. “Mel, don’t take your eyes off those lions.”

Mel rolled his eyes. “They’re not doing anything. I’m not convinced they actually add any danger.”

“Oh please.” Cate elbowed Mel hard in the ribs. “The addition of lions to anything exponentially increases the danger. It’s irrefutable.”

Gaspar started divvying up the weapons. “Everyone gets a spear. There’s another knife and some throwing razor disks for you, Cate. Ouch!” He sucked his fingers. “They’re sharp. Watch them.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and deliberated how to take the disks from him without losing a finger. “What the...?” Gaspar’s hand was heading straight for her breasts.

A metal ping was followed by three more as the disks attached to the silver strips of duct tape from the weapons room wrapped around her left arm. It was magnetic. “Oh, that’s what you were doing.” She stood sheepishly while Gaspar finished distributing weapons.

“Okay. There are four of us and three lions.” Balthazar’s eyes remained glued to the lions.

Silence followed.

“And...” Cate prompted.

“I was giving a sit rep,” Balthazar said. “We need an entire army to help with what’s headed this way.”

She jumped as the three boys whooped.

“You two collect the bodies, and I’ll finish off the injured,” Balthazar commanded.

There were about ten grommets clinging to life scattered around the arena. “No, don’t kill them. I can heal them.”

“There are two things wrong with that idea. With that many little pockets of time out of sync, everything might implode. You can only take so many bricks from a wall before it crumbles. The bigger problem is if you heal them, that’s even more people who want us dead to contend with.” Balthazar twirled the double-edged sword in his hand. “I’ll make it as quick and painless as possible for them.”

Cate turned her head as Balthazar plunged a sword into one of the grommets.

Mel patted her shoulder. “Breathe through it.”

The boys worked at their gruesome task with the solemn resolve of warriors. Each time Balthazar plunged his sword into a body the crowd roared. Mel and Gaspar dragged all the bodies to one area.

“Right. Let’s get prepared,” Balthazar said.

“What exactly are we preparing for?” Cate asked.

“Any second now, fifty of the meanest criminals from the North Isle de Pantheon will drop out of the sky to fight for their lives. We need every dead body fighting.”

She reached over to touch the nearest body. “You just told me I couldn’t heal those grommets because some big wall was going to come crashing down.”

“You’re not healing them. You’re making zombies. I want you to wake them up and order them to fight.”

“Huh?” Cate blinked a few times. Had she heard him correctly?