Underland(15)

“Open up, Warrick. I know it’s in there.” Remus yelled at the closed wooden door.

Warrick paused in front of the door as if debating. He pulled open the door but stood in the frame, blocking Remus access. The man never hid his intentions. Warrick knew his soul was damned, but he had to respect him as owner.

“Warrick, you fool, move.” Remus pushed hard against the centaur’s chest, but he didn’t budge.

“It’s over there,” he spoke quietly. “It’s still alive.”

Remus narrowed his eyes at Warrick, watching him. “Let me see it, and I’ll be the judge.”

Warrick moved aside as Remus stepped into the room, followed by Den. With the two intimidating men there, it seemed like the room shrank in size. Remus marched over to Kira’s prone form lying on the table. He leaned forward, mere inches from her body and studied her closely. “How long has she been unconscious?”

“Since I found her,” Warrick lied easily. There was nothing in his code of morals that said lying was wrong, especially when lying to someone cruel enough to be Satan’s brother.

But he was careful to not glance at Den. The trainer had recently lost everything because of his gambling, and he was on the cusp of either salvation or damnation. Warrick had heard he was trying to put his life back together. But there was little he could do to help Den at this point. He couldn’t let that man’s soul be on his conscious anymore.

That’s why he had tried to save the human girl at the last minute. He needed to worry about her soul.

Remus picked at a morsel of bread on Kira’s shirt and held it up in the air. “Did you get hungry, Warrick? It’s not like you to eat while treating a patient.”

Warrick was proud that he didn’t shift his weight or look away as he lied again. “It’s not a patient, but a thing. It doesn’t warrant the same respect as us.”

Remus stared around the room and then back at Kira’s body. Without warning, he opened his fist and smacked the girl hard across the face, clearly surprised when she didn’t jump up or scream. He even leaned down to sniff her mouth.

***

Den had stood back, observing. He could tell by the centaur’s tense muscles, he was lying. But it didn’t matter. Den didn’t want Remus to kill the girl either. He probably would have lied as well, in Warrick’s shoes.

But to what end was Warrick working? Why would he risk Remus’s wrath?

Warrick’s medical kit was out, and an old trunk was left open. He spied the centaur’s holy candle and prayer book half-hidden in the trunk and rolled his eyes. Of course, he’d try and save her, because he felt responsible for the death of his herd. Their souls weighed on him, he said. Den frowned as he looked over at Warrick. If only the centaur understood. Some people just couldn’t be saved.

“Can you wake her? I want her to be awake when I kill her for destroying Creeper.” Remus quivered with a weird mix of anticipation and anger.

“I can, but she won’t be coherent. The drugs I used on her will still be in her system; she won’t know what is happening.” The centaur pulled out a vial and lifted Kira’s head as if to pour it down her throat. He glanced over at Den and must’ve known he saw right through Warrick.

“That doesn’t do me any good. I want the wretched slave to suffer. I have no hope of winning the next event without Creeper, and Plutus won’t wait long before he calls in my debt. I need more freedom tokens.” Remus paced the small house with his hands behind his back. “You worthless piece of cow, get out of my sight. You’re lucky I don’t feed you to the hungry runners.”

Den shifted against the wall, watching. He suspected Remus was capable of a lot more than he liked others to believe. So Den needed to keep his wits, reveal nothing.

Warrick gathered his things and exited the front door. Remus pounded his fist on the table. “You owe me, Den. You owe me for what your new slave did to my property. I demand retribution.”

“You’re right, Remus. But I’ll buy you another zeke.” Den nodded, as if convincing himself he owed that to Remus. “A better one, a stronger one. You don’t want mine. You said yourself, he looks young.”

Remus looked up thoughtfully. “That may be good, but it’s not enough. The human thing can’t go unpunished. I think I’ll feed it to the trolls.”

“No,” Den whispered. A glow flickered from his band. Already? Thankfully, it drew Remus’s attention away from the slip. Why had he even said that? He glanced down.

Each of them held up his arm and watched his bracer impatiently.

Remus breathed deeply through his nose. “It can’t be me. I don’t owe that much.”

Den saw it wasn’t a debtor’s mark being broadcasted across their bands. “It’s a lottery, but why already?”

The flashing quickened, and he knew that every registered being in Underland was currently staring at their band. Waiting to see who would be selected for the next game.

The Underlords were forcing more and more of these random drafts—anyone was possible. What were the Underlords after exactly? The games were effective enough on their own. They’d been crowning many champions.

The white blinking slowed on Den’s band and went out.

Remus gave a delighted cry. “I knew it wouldn’t be me.”