“Fool,” I mutter, crouching next to him, wetting the cloth again, and then wiping it across Visidion’s forehead and cheeks.

“Impressive, he was,” Mesto says, looking through the open door to the small room where they laid Visidion.

“He’s a good fighter, stupid, but good,” Todd adds, standing behind him.

The two of them move away from the door. After Visidion’s resistance on the street, he was carried by the purple creature, and the rest of us were taken on a forced march out of the town. The walk to our new home was long, tedious, and boring. This planet isn’t devastated like Tajss but it’s not beautiful by any means. Barren, sparse brown weeds and grass, scraggly trees, and a bright yellow sun in an azure sky were all I saw.

A long, yellow dirt road led the way to a large estate. The estate consists of low mud-and-rock buildings surrounded by a mud-and-rock wall. It rests on the edge of a cliff beyond which is a sound that I think might be an ocean. I didn’t see it, and haven’t seen one in real life, so I’m guessing by the sound from vid sticks in various entertainments I’ve watched. My hand trembles as I wipe the damp cloth across his forehead. Gritting my teeth, I will strength into the muscles.

The tremors have been less than they were on the ship, coming less often, but it’s still a weakness. No one can know the truth, so I have to hide them. Too many questions.

Or there would have been. On Tajss, with my people, who are now on their own.

The realization hits with a weight that forces me back onto the ground. It doesn’t matter anymore. An empty void pulses in my guts, aching like the throbbing of a painful tooth. Despair threatens to push its way into my mind. It would be so easy to let that dark, empty abyss swallow me. To allow myself to abandon all I am, all I believe, everything that I’ve fought for all my life. It doesn’t look bad or scary, it’s . . . welcoming. A release. Letting go of all responsibility.

I close my eyes as the dark emptiness yawns, and I stare into it, contemplating the ease it offers. Temptation. Living for myself, alone. Spending what time I have left doing what makes me happy. I could explore my feelings for Visidion. See if there is more to this desire.

Tempting, so damn tempting.

But I can’t.

That is not who I am. In my mind, I step away from the abyss, refusing its dark gift. I glance around to make sure no one is watching before I slip a hand inside my suit. There are small pockets hidden throughout where I have small stashes. I pull out a piece of epis. It’s browning at the edges, the glow almost completely gone. I slip it in my mouth and chew, but its flavor is pale in comparison to how it should be. Another problem that will arise soon. Without epis, I’ll go into withdrawal eventually. It’s as inevitable as Tajss’s two red suns rising.

A problem for another day. One moment at a time.

Visidion’s chest rises and falls steadily, his hearts beat strong—he’ll recover. There’s nothing more I can do for him except wait and keep him comfortable. I’ve been forcing the broth they feed us down his throat, to keep his strength up. It’s been a day since we’ve arrived at the estate. We were herded into one of the stone-and-mud buildings and left on our own ever since. The building has a single common room with several doorways that give onto smaller rooms. We’ve each laid a claim to one of them. The floor is yellow dirt, hard packed so it’s almost like a real floor. There were a few blankets and pillows, and the central room has a small fire pit in the middle of it that was complete with stoked coals.

When I step into the main room, the others are sitting around the fire.

“What happens next?” I ask, taking a seat in their circle.

“Ha!” Mesto answers, unhelpful as usual.

“Soon we’ll be trained, then we’ll fight,” K’sara answers. “Then eventually, we’ll all die, and new slaves will be purchased, and they’ll repeat the cycle.”

His shoulders are hunched, and his voice is as heavy as his words.

“I won’t die,” Todd says, confident.

“Ha! Right, Todd no die, ha!” Mesto adds.

Cenar shifts, sounding like a small avalanche as his rock joints rub together.

“We all die. Sooner or later, we die,” Cenar sighs.

“No, we don’t,” Visidion says, and everyone turns to look at him. “We fight, we win.”

He’s leaning against the door frame. He inhales deeply, grimaces, exhales heavily, then pushes off the door frame. When I rush to him, he smiles and accepts my help, leaning on me, if only partially. My heart pounds in my chest, just from being close to him. Together we walk to the circle. Everyone scoots to the side, making room for us.

“There is no winning,” K’sara sighs. “Even if we do, eventually they’ll pair the best of us off against each other.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Visidion says, his eyes locked on mine. “I’ve seen it.”

“Ha! A seer?” Mesto asks.

Visidion nods, but our eyes never leave each other.

His father claimed to have visions. His visions led to the creation—and survival—of the Tribe. They claim he foresaw the devastation and gathered those who believed him, and together they escaped the brunt of the war. I’ve not given it much thought, but visions aren’t something I would consider a reliable way to plot my future. Mostly I’d considered it a convenient fable, something to help bring the survivors together, more than anything close to the truth. Visidion’s eyes beam his conviction and belief in his words. A smile spreads on his face as he reaches over and takes my hands in his.

“Together,” he whispers.

My chest aches, pulse pounds in my ears, and I’m light-headed. As if I’m a schoolgirl experiencing my first crush. The palms of my hands tingle resting against the rough edges of his scales. Fire rages in my core, a rising urge that comes with a desire to throw myself at him. Let him have his way with my body and take his pleasure of me.

“You have a plan to go with that vision?” I ask, throat so dry the words are hard to push out.

“No,” he smiles, shaking his head. “I have faith, in you. In us.”

“Faith,” I repeat.

“Yes,” he nods.

“You’ve gone insane. That blow to the head must have been too much,” I say.

“I’m fine,” he says. “I see more clearly now than I have for a long time. These trials before us, that’s all they are. Trials meant to test us, to forge us. Padraig could tell you about the forging of steel, tempering, making it stronger. This is our forging and I have seen that together we will succeed.”

“You and I?” I ask, arching an eyebrow, feeling the weight of the others’ intent stares.

“All of us,” he says.

“Ha! Mesto too?”

“Yes, Mesto too,” Visidion answers.

“Definitely a blow to the head,” Todd says. “Todd is first for Todd.”

“Of course,” Visidion says.

His conviction is infectious. Strong, pulling me to him.

“A fool’s errand, we’re all doomed,” K’sara says, despair in his voice.

“No,” Visidion says, breaking his gaze with me for the first time, and turning his gaze to each of the others in turn. “It’s going to take all of us. Together, we can survive.”

Boots hitting dirt approach our door, followed by the sound of a key in the massive lock that hangs off it. A grizzled man walks in. He’s almost human looking, but his skin is onyx black, too black for a human, and his eyes are bright orange. Buzz-cut gray hair covers his head, and his face is wrinkled, worn, and scarred all over. Two leather straps crisscross his chest, and a red kilt rests on his waist. Sticking over his shoulders are the hilts of two swords. He stares at us with eyes that look like raging infernos.

“What a sorry lot of losers,” he growls.

“Todd no loser!” Todd yells, leaping to his feet, fists balled at his side.

The newcomer looks at Todd and grimaces.

“Oh look, baby wants to cry,” he taunts Todd.

Todd looks apoplectic, shaking in place, staring wide-eyed at the newcomer. Strange, because I’ve never seen Todd not in control of himself.

“Who are you?” Visidion asks, climbing to his feet.

“Sir, to you, scrub,” he says, not taking his eyes off Todd. “Maybe, one day, you’ll earn the right to learn my name. Until then you will all call me sir.”

The hairs on back of my neck bristle, but patience is key, so I bite back on my smart remarks.

“Okay, sir,” Visidion says. “Who are you then?”

“Your trainer,” he says. “All of you, outside. This is the first day of the rest of your lives. We have to get you ready for the arena, and I’ve only got seven turns to make sure you at least die with enough grace to return the master’s investment in you.”

He turns his back, arrogant to a fault, and stalks out the door. Exchanging looks with the others, we follow him out.

“Line up!” he barks, and we form a rough line.

The central area of the estate is an open, hard-packed circle. The largest building is to the left of us, and I assume that it’s the main house. There is a balcony running the length of it, and shadowy figures on it watch the proceedings down here. There are dummies along the far wall and several crates of weapons rest along the sides. Our building butts up against the exterior wall. There are three other buildings that are duplicates of the one we stay in. Three doors in the surrounding wall give access to the areas outside this space. One of them is a large double door, big enough for wagons to come in. The other one is the obvious one, but I notice the third one tucked away in a corner by the big house, covered in shadows.

Noting the exits and possible escapes, I file them away in my memory for later use. Sir walks down the line of us, inspecting each of us with a critical eye. When he reaches me, he turns his head to the side and spits, shaking his head. Looking over his shoulder up to the balcony he arches an eyebrow.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks the shadows.

He waits as if expecting an answer but nothing happens. Sighing he turns back to me.

“You’ll be first to die,” he says, stepping on.

“I don’t think so,” I answer.

He whirls on one foot and shoves his face into mine.

“You don’t think so, what?” he yells, dank breath that smells of raw meat assaulting my senses.

“Sir, I don’t think so, Sir,” I answer, coming to full attention as my military training kicks in.

“Good, scrub,” he says. “Then you’ll go first in proving yourself.”

“Fine, sir,” I answer.

“No, I will,” Visidion says, stepping out of line.

“You will do what you’re told, scrub,” Sir barks.

“You, female, forward, let’s see what you got,” he orders.

Glancing at Visidion, I mouth to him that it’s fine.

The tension in his shoulders, his fists balled at his sides, the anger and frustration flashing in his eyes are there for anyone to read. Visidion isn’t subtle. I step out of line and stand at attention. Right now we must do what we have to, play the game until the way out becomes clear.

Sir paces around me in a circle. Forcing my mind into a state of relaxation and preparedness allows me to push aside everything. It’s a pure state. Years of training brought me to it. Every sense is heightened, information is processed at increased rates of speed. I’m ready for anything. The sound of his boots grinding into the dirt as he paces around me tell me a story. When he shifts his weight from his right to his left and his hand balls into a fist, the shifts in sound and the way he feels behind me gives me warning.

I duck, and his fist swishes through the air where my head was. Crouching, I spin on my right heel, swinging my left leg, sweeping for his legs. He’s fast, leaping over my sweeping leg and landing neatly behind it. His fist swings down, aiming for the head again, but I roll backwards over my left shoulder and spring to my feet in a ready stance. Fists before him, his dark gaze looks me up and down. A deep, throbbing pain in my left thigh threatens to betray my display of strength, but I hold it at bay through a sheer effort of will.

Sir lowers his fist, straightens, and then gives a sharp nod.

“Not bad,” he says. “The rest of you sorry lot could learn from her.”

I catch Visidion’s eyes. Worry and anger war in his face, but I also see his pride. He’s going to have to come to terms with my being able to take care of myself, or he’s going to get us both killed. Stepping back into line next to him, my heart rate returns to normal as I take a deep breath and feel the adrenaline fade. My left arm trembles, and not from the after effects of the conflict, so I clasp my hands behind my back in a parade rest hoping no one caught the moment of weakness. At the same moment I see Sir staring at me, and his eyes narrow. He purses his lips, and my heart pounds in my chest.

Shit!

“Okay scrubs, pair off,” Sir orders. “I want to see what each of you brings to the table. Work hard if you want to earn your dinner.”

Snapping out orders, he pairs Visidion off with Todd, K’sara with Cenar, leaving Mesto for me.

Mesto is shorter than I am, with long, gangly arms that end in sharp claws and he also has a snout full of sharp teeth. While he appears small and possibly weak, I’m not going to underestimate him, even if this is only supposed to be sparring. Mesto stares at his feet, moving to stand four feet in front of me, then shakes his head.

“Ha! Sorry, Mesto is,” he says, not looking up.

“Start!” Sir barks.

Mesto becomes a flying blur of fur and claws. It’s all I can do to block blows that seem to come from all directions at once. Claws scrape against my space armor suit making loud noises as they try to find purchase. I’m a fraction too slow. Pain flashes red through my brain, and fire lights up on my left cheek where his slashes make contact. Backing up, I’m on full defense, unable to land a single offensive blow. Blood drips down my cheek, staining my white suit.

“Rosalind!” Visidion screams, jerking my attention to him.

He’s staring at me instead of watching Todd. Todd’s massive fist connects with Visidion’s jaw, and there’s a sickening crunch. Visidion staggers under the force of the blow, stumbling to the side as he struggles to stay upright. Mesto connects with my stomach, and my breath rushes out in a blast, leaving me gasping as I stumble backwards and trip over something, landing hard on my ass.

Mesto lands on top of me, a blur. Raising my arms, trying to protect my face, I turn from one side to the other, trying to dislodge him.

“Enough!” Sir barks.

Mesto stops, leaping backwards to land softly on the balls of his feet. Todd is storming towards Visidion. Visidion has his balance back, his right hand balled into a fist, close to the ground. He’s watching Todd’s approach and pulling him in closer. As Todd closes, Visidion swings, a wild haymaker, but it has his full force behind it.

Sir catches Visidion’s fist right before it connects with Todd. Pushing Todd back with his other hand, he throws Visidion’s arm through the motion, forcing Visidion to follow through with it. Visidion spins, Sir using his own momentum against him, stumbling the other direction. Visidion spreads his wings to catch his balance then turns towards Sir, red rage in his eyes.

“Try it, scrub,” Sir says, his voice low and dangerous.

His arms are at his sides, and he seems relaxed, but I have no doubts that he is ready for Visidion’s attack.

Visidion shudders, his tail standing straight up behind him, the edges of his scales tinting red, visible signs of the rage storming in him. He doesn’t move, glaring, as the red tint fades and his tail lowers back to the ground. He closes his wings, then nods his head.

“Smart,” Sir says. “Back in line scrubs.”

We shuffle back into a loose line. As everyone shifts I run a hand down Visidion’s bulging bicep and we share a quick glance. Survive. We have to survive and bide our time. His almost-imperceptible nod in response is all I need.

“Okay, not bad,” Sir says, pacing up and down our line. “Rule one, in sparring never go for permanent damage. Your value is in the arena. No one is paying to watch you train. If you cause permanent damage to your sparring partner, you will be immediately put in for the Blood Games. Understood?”

“Yes sirs” greet his question, but I don’t answer.

“What are the Blood Games?” I ask.

“Ha, she knows not,” Mesto barks.

“Battles to the death,” Sir answers, not breaking his stride.

Okay, good to know. Avoid the blood games. Visidion and I exchange a glance. One day at a time, wait and watch. Sir continues laying out the rules. We listen to them all, and then we’re arranged into new pairings. The training begins in earnest.