Grace and Fury (Grace and Fury #1)(76)

“In our last fight, Cave’s fighter made the dubious decision to submit instead of winning her crew its well-deserved rations. In fact, she denied rations to all of you, as no winner meant no rations for anyone. She changed the game, and as we all know, the game does not change.” His voice tightened, the expansiveness gone. A fine tremble ran down Serina’s arms.

“She’s been busy ever since,” he continued. He never once looked at Serina, addressing every word to the crowd. “She tried to incite a rebellion. She killed a guard. And she will, absolutely, pay with her life.”

Serina held her back so straight it ached. She didn’t know how he knew all of that, but it didn’t surprise her that he did. She kept her face perfectly blank. In Viridia, all women wore masks.

She braced for the Commander to raise his gun.

“So,” he said, turning to her at last, “you’ll fight again. Now.”

“F-fight?” she stuttered, confused.

“Oh, you’ll die, whether you win or not,” he said blandly, his weathered face set in hard lines. “But I’m giving you a chance for revenge first. Who do you choose?” He glanced into the crowd. “You want another shot at last week’s adversary? I think she’s anxious for a rematch.”

The blood drained from Serina’s face.

“Or perhaps Oracle,” he suggested. “After all, she did banish you.” He twisted his lips into a grotesque pout as he turned his attention toward Jacana. “Or perhaps you’d like to fight our rabbit, here. She provided the perfect bait, it seems. She, you might actually kill. Then I’d get to kill you, which of course I’d enjoy.”

Jacana bent her head, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. One of the guards unshackled her so she’d be free to fight.

“It’s time,” Ricci said, his voice taking on an ominous tone. “Who will you fight?”

Serina glanced at Jacana. She’d come back so Jacana wouldn’t have to fight.

Her gaze shifted to Oracle. It was true the crew chief had exiled her. But more important, Oracle was one of the most skilled fighters here. She could kill Serina quickly and rob the Commander of some of his spectacle. Rob him of the chance to kill Serina himself.

Anika would kill her quickly too. Serina knew she didn’t have the strength to gain the upper hand with her a second time. Not with her injuries.

“Oh,” Commander Ricci added. “Submission is not an option this time. But I’m sure you realized that.” He nodded at the guard who stood behind her, and suddenly, with a clank, the weight of her chains was gone.

Serina closed her eyes, just for a second. She’d made her stand already. She’d refused to kill another woman. She’d meant everything she’d said to her crew, about being strong. Working together. Being iron.

If she chose to fight a woman now, those words would all be empty. Nothing would change.

Serina lifted her gaze and stared Commander Ricci straight in the eye so he could see her fury. “I won’t do it,” she shouted, because it was the only way to mask the shake in her voice. “I won’t play your game.”

His face purpled. Serina reminded herself she was dead no matter what. Val’s boat was gone. Nomi was gone. Hope was gone.

But maybe she could leave a little defiance behind.

“If you want me to fight, then I choose you,” she screamed. “Kill me now, with your firearm or your fists. But I won’t raise a hand against my sisters.”

Commander Ricci roared. The guard beside Serina moved, but Ricci waved him back. “Stand down. Nobody move. She’s mine.”

He rolled his shoulders. Pounded one massive fist into the other hand. Widened his stance and stared her down. “You want to fight me? Well then. We shall fight.”

Staring death in its craggy, terrible face, Serina waited for a sense of peace to steal over her, or a numbness. But all she had left, burning from within, was fury.

He came at her, fast as a striking snake. She scrambled in her pocket for the sand she’d planned to use to get Jacana’s attention, and threw it in his face. He paused, pawing at his eyes. It didn’t slow him for long.

She was able to duck away from his first punch, but the second caught in her in the stomach, stealing her breath.

Then he punched her in the face, and she went down.

Serina prayed for Nomi. It was too late to pray for herself.

Ricci stood over her, terrifyingly massive. He kicked her in the side. She howled as her rib broke, a fiery pain streaking through her. Crying now, gasping for breath, she struggled to her knees and backed away, blood dripping from her mouth. He paced her, taking his time. All he had to do was kick her in the head, or reach down and break her neck, and it would be over.

He knew it. She knew it. But still he played with her, giving her time to regret her brave speech. He reached down and grabbed her arm—the one Anika had cut—and dug his fingers into the wound, drawing new blood.

She threw a desperate punch as his stomach, but it was like punching a wall. He didn’t even flinch. He lifted her until her feet dangled, and pulled her close, until their noses were an inch apart. “Women think they’re strong when they’re fighting other women,” he growled, his moist, stinking breath clinging to Serina’s cheeks. “But when a man fights them, they know the truth. You are weak. All of you. And you always will be.”