SERINA

THE GUARDS MARCHED Serina and Jacana up onto the stage. The amphitheater filled slowly. The women filing in looked confused, and the crowd wasn’t as silent as usual. Oracle, Ember, and Cliff took places in the front row. Oracle must feel vindicated, Serina thought. This was exactly what she was afraid of.

The other crew chiefs stood close to the stage. Serina found Slash, and they shared a look. If I’d had more time… There’d be no chance of revolution now.

When everyone had arrived, Commander Ricci strode onto the concrete stage. The other guards retreated to the balcony, except the two holding on to Serina’s and Jacana’s shackles.

“Good evening, everyone!” Ricci shouted, spreading his arms in welcome. He seemed to enjoy his showman’s role more than usual. “I have a special treat for you.”

Serina couldn’t tear her gaze from the firearm strapped to his hip. She almost wished he’d dispense with the theatrics and get it over with. But she cherished each breath in and out of her lungs, as fast as they came and went. Her pulse pounded in her temples.

“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.”

He dropped her. Serina crumpled, her legs unable to support her.

That was Ricci’s victory speech. He was done playing.

With her last remaining strength, Serina stood up on shaking legs, put her head down, sucked in a breath, and barreled into him as hard as she could.

It was like trying to move a mountain, and yet he did move, a little. A few steps back. He hadn’t expected her to try to shove him. He braced against her and thrust his hands under her arms and threw her across the stage. She hit the concrete hard, her ankle twisting under her.

He stalked toward her, murder flashing in his eyes.

A roar built throughout the amphitheater. Serina had time to note that the women watching weren’t cheering. They were screaming. And then, with a bloodcurdling shriek, Oracle and Ember stormed the stage.

Oracle flung herself at the Commander, latching onto his back with an arm around his throat and her legs locked around his waist, blocking his access to his firearm. He coughed and twisted, trying to throw her off. Someone on the balcony fired off a shot, but the Commander waved an arm. “My fight. My kills,” he roared.

He bent forward sharply and Oracle almost went over his head. But Ember slid beneath and drove a makeshift knife into his belly. He reached for her, but she danced out of range. Oracle kept choking him, and no one moved.

Shock crashed over Serina in waves. Oracle and Ember had come to her rescue. They had revolted. The women surrounding the stage screamed and shouted, their banshee voices drowning out the Commander’s strangled gags. Out of the corner of her eye, Serina saw movement. Slash was leading her Hotel Misery crew around the edge of the stage.

Onstage, Oracle shrieked again. A hunting cry. The Commander’s face went purple as he scrabbled against her arm. Ember yanked out her blade. He sank to his knees in a puddle of his own blood. He scratched Oracle’s arm, leaving deep gouges, but she never let go.

Serina took a shivery, painful breath just as Commander Ricci’s eyes rolled back in his head. His body slumped to the side. Oracle wrenched his neck until it cracked, just to be sure.

She straightened and met Serina’s astonished gaze. A smile flickered at the edge of her lips.

Then a bullet hit her square in the forehead, whipping her head back. Her brown eye went as unseeing as the white one.

Serina screamed.

Chaos erupted.

A wave of women crashed across the stage. Gunfire blasted out over the cacophony. Serina struggled to her feet, her broken rib sending spikes of pain through her body. Guards fell from the balcony to the concrete below. It took her a moment to realize why—Slash’s crew had snuck up the stairs, coming at the men from behind.

But the gunfire didn’t slow, and women continued dropping.

If Oracle and Ember could run onto the stage and attack the Commander, Serina could find the strength to keep fighting. She yanked a knife from the hand of a lifeless member of Slash’s crew and staggered up the stairs. The screams and concussion of gunshots echoed eerily in the stairwell. She dodged a body tumbling down the stairs.

By the time she reached the balcony, the guards had turned and were fighting the surprise attack in earnest. There wasn’t much the women below could do but wait for more guards to fall. If the impact didn’t kill them, the women waiting would.

Before Serina could intervene, a red-faced guard shot Slash. Serina lunged at him, yanking the firearm from his hand as he fell. She fumbled with the weapon for a second, trying to figure out how to use it, but a strong arm hooked around her throat. She thrust an elbow back and the man grunted, but he didn’t loosen his hold.

“This is all your fault,” he growled. He punched her in the kidney without easing his grip on her neck. She had no air to groan.

Serina sagged, black spots dancing before her eyes. She elbowed him again, but it was a feeble effort. Her strength was fading. Her lungs were screaming.

Suddenly, through the haze, she saw the guards nearest the edge of the balcony crumple. No one had touched them. They’d been shot.

The arm around her slackened for an instant. She twisted and became deadweight, slipping away. Then she buried her knife in his belly. Two more guards went down. There were only a few left now, and the women fighting them seemed to be gaining the upper hand.

Serina peeked over the broken railing.

Below, in the center of a circle of uneasy women, Val lowered his firearm.