held their objections to a minimum, as if afraid to offend Lady Nightwing.
“Hoarde bets will not be taken on the outcome.” The grumbling went up several decibels and the announcer was forced to raise his voice. “The wager on this contest has already been agreed upon between Lady Nightwing and the human. It is as follows: if the human wins the toss, Lady Nightwing will transport her from the Hell Barge to the destination of her choice.”
The audience exploded in avid displeasure. Malicious eyes sought me out, burning in a multitude of ugly, leering faces. Fists were raised and angrily shaken. I was suddenly glad the fruit flinger wasn’t there to pass out rotten fruit.
“BUT …” the announcer broke in loudly, “If Lady Nightwing wins,” the cacophony lessened and the leering faces turned eager, “the human must remain with us for the night. And this is no ordinary human, my friends. She has dared to embark upon the Hell Ride willingly.
“The gleaners will not be required to remove her memories at the end of the night. She will leave us with full remembrance of the Hoarde’s games.”
The response was deafening, and I closed my eyes against it as I forced down a wave of nausea. I was beginning to feel really sick, and I didn’t think it was solely from the fear. My head hurt, my stomach gurgled unpleasantly and my skin was clammy with sweat. It almost felt like food poisoning.
I was making a concerted effort just to breathe, slow and deep, when the announcer’s voice broke through my misery once more.
“And since Lady Nightwing knows how eager you will all be to participate, she has chosen to allow the Hoarde to bid for equal time slots with the human. Her only stipulation is that winners curb their amusements so that the human remains conscious when they are finished. After all, we don’t want any of our time slot winners to feel cheated.
“The gleaner, Lathos, will preside over the coin toss. Time slot bidding will begin at the conclusion of the contest.” The speaker paused for emphasis. “Pending, of course, Lady Nightwing’s victory.”
If the mocking tone of those words hadn’t made my stomach pitch with misgivings, the evil cackles and howls of laughter from all sides would have done the job.
“Come, Sydney, it’s time.” Lady Nightwing’s cool voice was a balm compared to the harshness of the voices from the crowd.
I followed her through the gate and toward the middle of the dusty arena. The roar of the spectators barely reached my ears; I was so intent upon not stumbling, and avoiding the congealing puddles of blood and other bits of gore. I swayed to a stop beside Lady Nightwing and looked up to find that we were at the center of the circle.
The crowd, held back only by the short wooden fence and Lady Nightwing’s will, seemed even louder and more intimidating from here.
“The coin please, Sydney,” Lady Nightwing said softly.
I attempted to shake off the fog that was taking over my brain and reached numbly into my pocket for Sparrow’s coin. As soon as I touched it, I felt a little better. It wasn’t much, but it helped.
When I raised my head, I realized that Lathos was standing beside me. His lifeless black eyes seemed to leech away my brief sense of comfort.
Lady Nightwing turned to the crowd and smiled, gesturing to me as she spoke. “As you are my guest, Sydney, you may choose your side and perform the coin toss.”
“Thank you,” I said faintly, trying to conjure a weak smile of gratitude that probably came out more of a grimace.
I blinked at the bright silver coin, turning it over in my palm. The sun, beautifully depicted, seemed to swirl with heat. It symbolized the antithesis of this place of endless night, and Goddess knew I wanted nothing more than to escape and feel the light upon my face again.
But I was drawn to the tree.
The multitude of shimmering leaves, captured in minute detail, seemed to blow in the wake of a mystical breeze. It was gentle and comforting. My eyelids fluttered shut, and for an instant it was as if I could feel Sparrow’s presence, the hint of his warm breath mingling with mine.
“The tree,” I whispered. I cleared my throat and said it louder. “I choose the tree.”
“Very well,” she agreed. Again she addressed the crowd. “The sides have been chosen. Sydney will toss the coin and Lathos will confirm the result.” She turned back to me expectantly.
I rubbed the coin between my thumb and forefinger, feeling it grow surprisingly hot with my touch. Then I flipped it high into the air, following it with my eyes and catching it on the back of my hand as my other palm came down atop it. Lathos leaned in closer, the dark shadows of his aura pulsing outward toward my hands. As I uncovered the coin, a silent prayer spilling from my lips, an indistinct halo of light radiated from it, pushing away the seeking darkness.
I let out a painful breath, almost sobbing with gratitude. The side with the tree was showing. I looked up at Lady Nightwing with undisguised relief. The expression on her face was one of triumph.
Confused, I glanced down at the coin again. The shadows surrounding Lathos thickened and the image on the coin wavered, the sun flickering there for a single nauseating moment. Then it strengthened indisputably into that of the tree.
“It’s the tree. I won.” Suspicion rode my tone and I held the coin out for both of them to see.
The crowd thundered its discontent. But what captured my attention was the look that passed between Lady Nightwing and Lathos. Anger flashed in her lavender eyes, and his emotionless visage came close to reflecting discomfort.
“Two out of three,” she snapped.
“What? No! I won!” I insisted. It came out defensive and louder than I intended.
Lady Nightwing reined in her anger, but just barely. “Yes, Sydney,” she agreed with a hard smile. “You won the first toss. Now we will have two more to decide the contest.”
“But that’s not what we agreed,” I stammered in denial, clutching the coin tightly in my hand.
She narrowed her red-rimmed eyes at me and I was suddenly more frightened of her than I was of Lathos and the entire mob combined. “It is customary for such a contest to be decided in two out of three tosses. If you wanted the final decision to be based on a single toss, you should have specified that before we began.”
I stared at her, unable to speak.
She smiled again, her icy composure restored. “But I am not an ungracious host. To make up for this misunderstanding, if you win, I shall grant you an additional boon.
“What shall it be, Sydney?”
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. I felt faint, my skin now flashing between fever and chills. The crowd still roared, but it sounded hollow in my ears. I looked around, trying to think, trying to hold onto fading hope. New creatures occupied the roped-off waiting area by the gate. There were several vicious-looking hobgoblins, a gleaner and …. Barnaby.
His striking blue-green eyes met mine, and the sympathy I saw there was nearly my undoing. I brutally forced back a sob and looked away, steeling my face as I turned back to Lady Nightwing.
“Alright. If I win, in addition to our original agreement, I would also have you release that half-goblin, the one Hob brought to the slave ring earlier, and transport him – unharmed - wherever he wants to go.” I pointed toward Barnaby so that there would be no mistaking who I meant. But I didn’t dare look at his face again.
Lady Nightwing’s smooth forehead creased as if she couldn’t quite fathom my request. “You desire that I free a half-breed slave as your second boon?”