"That's him," the Hound said, his deep breaths turning into a growl.
Thorne snapped to attention, scanning the battlefield far below him.
"The Blind Man."
Thorne watched as he fought and quickly realized why the Hound had lost so unexpectedly. He was always one step ahead.
"He's the one we need to kill,' the Hound snarled. "He is the one who stood in my way."
"We will not kill during the duels," he said calmly. "The city is watching. Appearances matter." His mouth curved slightly. "Afterward, however…yes. There are several I intend to remove."
The Hound bowed his head, barely containing his rage.
A short man wearing spectacles approached, carrying a notebook. "Sire, if I may have a moment?"
Thorne waved a hand, not looking away from the arena. "Speak."
"I've calculated the number of duels. You will barely have enough money to pay the 100,000 royal credits these fights will cost."
Thorne grunted. "I can always make more to pay later. Or I can print it. And remember, this is not about funding the Slums and rebuilding them. This is about locating our enemies. I may not have to pay that money in the first place if I show the city the criminals that have been hurting us."
Understanding dawned on the man's face. The accountant nodded and stepped back.
Thorne glanced down at his list. He had down about twenty names of duelists who could be enemies. But none of them had he been able to identify as the boy.
Soon enough, he would know. They could not hide forever.
The blind man was but one of his enemies. A few more in these duels were his opponents. And he had to figure out who they were before the duels ended.
He would find all that opposed him.
*******
The first round of duels was over. We could already hear the bustling of people leaving the rows of seats above us.
The remaining contestants stood along the walls and near the back exit, waiting to be let out.
The old man who had been reading out our names moved down the middle, rolling up the paper in his hands.
He moved slowly through the contestants, and I noticed he had large bags under hiss sagging eyes as he passed us.
"That man does not work for Thorne," I whispered to the boy. "He has hosted duels in this very colosseum for decades. And now that Thorne has done this, he is being forced to do this without any free will."
"How do you know?" The boy asked.
"I just do. I can tell. Thorne has his claws sunk deep into this scheme. And he wants to control every little detail about these duels, including which contestants will fight each other. In order to do that, he has to control the old man."
I could see the boy was thinking the exact same thing as me.
We needed to find out who the old man really was. And then we had to confront him.
The gates opened, and the boy started forward.
We passed by the old man and a group of guards, and they watched us pass.
"Keep going," I said. "We move on like everything is normal. Then we follow him."
"Right," the boy whispered. "Good idea."
"What're you whispering about, Wren?" A voice asked.
I groaned with anger. "I told you not to talk to me aloud! Now look what's happened!"
Flint wrapped an arm around the boy and leaned in close. "Lemme in on your secrets, kid."
"What…what secrets?" The boy stammered.
"You got some kinda voice in your head? Someone talking to you in there?"
"Well," I sighed. "You have to tell him now. Hopefully he can be trusted."
"I just like talking to myself," the boy responded. "Helps me guide me through stressful situations. I guess someone as experienced in battle as yourself wouldn't understand. This is all new to me."
Flint separated off from the boy and cackled. "Experienced in battle? Ha! What a jest. Battle is but another art. Like painting. Or writing. And I have mastered it."
"You seem a little too confident," the boy remarked. "You think you're gonna win the whole thing?"
Flint's grin widened, teeth flashing beneath the setting sunlight.
"Win?" he repeated. "No, no. Winning's easy. Surviving is the trick. Thriving?" He tapped his chest. "That's where I excel."
The boy didn't respond right away. He was watching Flint now, measuring him the same way he'd measured Frieda in the arena.
Good. Let him learn.
Before either of them could say more, another presence joined us.
"You talk too much," Aris said flatly.
The boy immediately shrank away, trying to keep distance from her. She hadn't recognized us yet; I was fairly sure, at least.
"Ahh," Flint said, squinting. "I recognize you. First battle, right? Impressive stuff."
"And you're Flint. The one who played with his opponent like they were a training dummy."
Flint shrugged, trying to seem humble. "What can I say? That's how some of these guys deserve to be treated. Like dummies."
"There does seem to be a lot of fools participating," Aris replied.
"I know one who isn't a fool," Flint said, glancing at the boy. "Wren. Where are your manners? Introduce yourself."
Aris shifted her eyes to us, and she frowned. "Wren. I don't remember you."
The boy cleared his throat and spoke with a lowered, monotone voice. "Must not have been paying attention then."
"He seems like a fool to me," Aris grunted.
"Except I know something you don't," the boy said.
This drew Flint's attention.
"What the hell are you saying?" I asked the boy, but he ignored me.
Idiot. Was he really about to expose us right here? To our future enemies? Flint couldn't be trusted. And Aris was against us now. This wasn't a good idea.
"I know how this whole system works," the boy said.
"What system?" Aris asked, frowning.
"It's simple," Flint interrupted just as the boy was going to continue. "They pair two contenders against each other at random. Not a hard system to figure out."
"But that isn't what's happening," the boy continued in his lowered voice. He kept his eyes away from Aris, instead looking down at his feet as they walked together. "Remember that Thorne is the one who orchestrated this whole thing. He holds the power to write the matchups. And he is using it to his advantage."
Aris frowned and looked closer at the boy. "Ah, I understand now. Wren, you said your name was? You're smart."
"Told ya'," Flint retorted. "Not all of us are fools. I'd already assumed Thorne would play that card. Not that it matters. I don't fear any one of the contestants I saw fight today."
"You should," the boy responded. "Some of them were hiding their true powers. Putting on a show, so to speak. They only gave us and the audience a fraction of what they were capable of."
"So did I," Flint said with a smile. "I doubt I'll have to use the extent of them until the final battle."
"Quite cocky, aren't you?" Aris asked. "The truth is, there's nothing we can do about that but fight in his battles. I'm off this way. Good luck to the two of you tomorrow."
The boy continued on as Flint patted him on the shoulder. "Get rest tonight. Training won't be much help at such a late hour."
The boy nodded and then split paths with Flint as well.
We started down an alleyway, back toward the graveyard where we had stayed the night before.
The boy would sleep with the dead once more.