The Fandom(85)

‘There’s nobody here,’ Ash whispers.

We’re turning to leave when a squeal catches my attention. My eyes pivot to a nearby door. I press my ear against the wood and hear a young girl sobbing. I glance at Ash. He cocks his pistol, and with no further thought, we barge into the room.

We enter a darkened chamber. A purple net hangs from the ceiling, surrounding a four-poster bed. Candles glimmer on the walls, the air lanced with oil and sweat. The girl with red hair sits on the bed. The neck of her dress has been slashed, revealing the sphere of her shoulder, and I can’t help but notice the tremor of her bottom lip. The nose of a shotgun presses into the side of her head. At the end of the shotgun sits a Gem – shirt unbuttoned.

His gaze locks on to Ash. ‘Something’s going on, I can hear the gunfire. Let me go, or I shoot the Imp.’

Ash raises his gun. ‘Where are you going to go? The house is teeming with rebels, and they’re seriously pissed.’

I step closer to him. ‘Give us the girl, or he’ll put a bullet between your eyes.’ My voice remains strong. He doesn’t see that beneath my clothes, my skin is coarse with goosebumps.

Ash glances at the girl. His eyes momentarily dip to the space where her hands should be, and his aim wavers. The Gem seizes his opportunity, turning his gun so it points at my chest. But this time, I don’t freeze. This time, I’m filled with rage. My body responds before my brain. I knock the gun from the Gem’s hand. The sudden movement must startle Ash, because he fires, the noise fracturing the air. The Gem yelps and clutches his shoulder.

I clasp the girl’s arm, no thicker than a bird’s leg. ‘Follow me.’

We dash downstairs, scanning the empty rooms – furniture tipped over, carpets glittering with glass fragments, bedsheets stained with blood. No signs of life – Imp or Gem. We stumble into the display room. Again, only ghosts remain.

‘Go home,’ I say to the girl.

She nods, tears gathering in her eyes. ‘Thank you.’ She scuttles from the room.

Ash and I stand alone, listening to the music and the sound of our own breath. His hands tremble and the gun knocks rhythmically against his thigh.

‘Where have they gone?’ I finally ask. In canon, the rebels freed the concubines and left the Gems behind – battered and humiliated and unlikely to open another Imp brothel for a very long time.

‘The Coliseum,’ Ash says. ‘Thorn told us to take the Gems to the Coliseum.’

I don’t bother asking why, I already know the answer – I’m the clumsy twat of a butterfly that put the idea in Thorn’s head after all. A convulsion grows at the base of my spine threatening to empty my stomach as I remember my earlier words: They deserve to dance on the gallows and know how it feels.





The Coliseum. I have to go back to the Coliseum. It’s like the canon’s beckoning, keeping me on track. I just can’t seem to escape those gallows. The city gates come into view. I see two squaddies drooping in their podiums, bowing to the gallows with blood in their hair. We approach with caution. The closer we get, the more the floodlights sting my eyes.

‘They must have looped the security feed,’ Ash says.

‘Quickly,’ I say, grabbing his hand. ‘We have to stop Thorn hanging the Gems.’

‘Sorry, what? Why would we do that?’

‘Do you remember what you said to me in the orchard?’

He looks at me blankly. ‘Don’t shag the demigod, shag me?’

I smile. ‘No, you said that only the Gem people can rise up and stop the barbarity against the Imps.’

‘I said that? Sounds clever.’

‘Well the whole point of this mission was to show the Gems that they are the ruthless animals, not the Imps. If we simply kill them, they’ll never think of us as humans. They’ll never rise up.’

He studies my face. ‘You never did fancy the demigod, did you?’

‘Hell yeah! Did you see those abs?’

Ash laughs and kisses me on the lips.

We slip into the Coliseum, using the same wooden door I stumbled from a week or so ago, still dressed in my cosplay outfit, confused and scared. It all looks so different beneath the stark beacons, all peaks and dips, angles and shadows, more like the vision from my mind blend with Baba. And I feel so different, so full of purpose. When I think of the canon, of Rose and Willow running through the sewers, just skulking away to the river, I feel a sense of pride that I chose to help the Imps. Hope starts as a little flower, I think to myself.

In the distance, I see rebels guarding the various entrances. Backs stooped, guns tipped skywards, alert and ready to shoot. At the other end of the Coliseum looms the rickety stage, topped with a broad beam and dangling ropes. The tiny hairs on my body awaken, a ripple of nervousness passing beneath my skin. A line forms before the gallows. I can tell they’re Gems from the breadth of their chests, the length of their legs. The rebels wave their guns, forcing the line to climb awkwardly on to the stage. Imps crawl across the top of the beam like insects.

I’m about to move, when a familiar voice pulls me back.

‘Wait up.’ Nate stands at the door, looking smaller than ever.

I run to him. ‘You’re supposed to wait with Saskia and Matthew.’

He grins, his face all teeth and dimples. ‘I gave them the slip, ooh they’ll be pissed.’