Empire of Sand

I fought my panic as one of the guards led me to the center of the pits. Designed in the old Roman style, the pits were intended to replicate the colosseums where the gladiators fought. I could hear their thunderous roar from my place beneath their seats, trickles of light drifting in through the wood shafts servings as the spectator’s floorboards. A set of heavy-looking wooden doors were closed in front of me, building my anticipation. Somewhere above, the Emperor would watch from his royal chamber seat, face hidden from the public, body encased in iron armor.

Hundreds of strangers had come to watch us die. Panic twisted my stomach and robbed me of breath every second I spent waiting behind those doors. The guards stood at attention, facing one another, prepared to open the heavy iron locks and release me into the arena. Cheers filled the space, indicating the arrival of my opponent. By the sounds of it, whomever I was matched against had a formidable reputation. I squared my shoulders and fought the urge to beg for dismissal. Instead, I imagined Mayven wearing the guards uniform, teasing me about my training.

It’s better than churning butter, he would say.

Nostalgia gripped me as I thought about the ranch and of Birdie, who I hadn’t seen in days. I hoped the stable boys were taking proper care of her. I’d heard the horses of those who died in the pits were auctioned off at the market, and I swore to myself that Birdie would never suffer such a fate.

“Good fortune to you,” the guard on the left said. The pair heaved the doors open, and the afternoon sunlight spilled into the cavernous underbelly of the colosseum, blinding me with its brilliance. The spectators had gone silent. I walked out into the bare dirt circle, staring up at the raised dais and the royal arse that occupied it. He stared down at me behind his mask, those blazing eyes drilling holes into me. Flanked by guards, the Emperor sat upright and perfectly straight with the accusing stare of a judge called to deliver a murderer’s sentencing.

“Behold, good people of Tristan, the sand devil from the outer regions.”

The man wearing a jester’s hat spoke into a metal, cone shaped device that projected his voice to the crowd. The cone was fashioned of rusted iron and simple in its construction; I’d never seen anything like it.

The spectators clapped and whistled at me as I took my place in the center space of the pit, opposite a girl I’d only seen once. I tried desperately to recall what her talent was, but my mind came up blank. She glowered at me like I’d stolen from her grandmother, and I knew right away there would be no talk of mercy. She was the lion in this arena, and it was kill or be killed.

Hot air kicked up around our feet, dusting us with dry sand. I plotted my attack as the announcer rambled on about elementals and their gifts. A fire breather displayed his talent beside the Emperor, blowing out a thick wall of flames that dwindled and died at the wave of his hand. My stomach plummeted as I recalled the injuries to Ian’s body—burns—and I felt like a mouse trapped in a snake’s nest, just waiting to be supper.

“Let the match commence!” the announcer boomed, drawing me from my speculations.

The girl punched her tiny fist into the air, and my body was hit with a forceful, explosive weight that sent me careening backward. I landed flat on my back, scraping my arms and legs as I slid to a stop. The spectators roared their approval, chanting for my demise. I struggled to breathe as the impact had knocked the air out of me. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling on wobbling legs, ignoring the laughter and taunting from the crowds above us. I’d never seen a power like this, but I knew this girl wouldn’t hesitate to destroy me.

She raised her arms for a second attack and I cried out and dropped low to the ground, sweeping the dirt up over my head, burying myself beneath it. Muted laughter penetrated my tomb, but I didn’t care. Let them all laugh, so long as I made it out of the pits alive. I could feel the girl’s shock waves permeating the ground, but I remained safely ensconced in the dirt. Concentrating my efforts, I imagined myself sinking farther beneath the ground, invisible to all eyes above. I could feel the sand giving way, welcoming me into its depths. I continued pushing the sand outward from my face, creating a small pocket of air to breathe. If I was not careful, I would suffocate before my opponent could kill me.

The dirt seemed to melt around me, like the waves in the ocean, carrying me forward. I wiggled like a snake, smooth and soundless, finding my way through the packed earth and listening for the sound of her footsteps. My opponent growled her frustration. I’d made a mockery of her as she stamped her foot on the ground, searching for any sign of me. Bracing myself, I drew in a deep breath and exploded through the surface, my body springing up behind hers, and with one, fierce sweep of my arms, I sent a wave of dirt upon her, enveloping her where she stood.

The crowd fell silent. I waited for the girl to resurface, but she didn’t. My heart raced as I parted the sand, searching for her beneath its dry, hot layers. I knew I would have to kill her, but the thought of her suffocating beneath my feet was more than I could bare. I pressed my hands against the dry earth and pushed the dirt aside, parting it like in the stories of the red sea. I exhaled with relief when I found her, her thin body lying face down and unmoving in the dirt. The crowd watched with heavy anticipation as the smile on my face dissolved into a horrified gape.

This could be a trick. I eased my way around her, expecting her to spring up and hit me with her shock wave, again. But even as I studied her, her body remained deathly still, and the color of her skin drained away to reveal the deathly pale of a corpse. I crouched beside her and pressed two fingers to the side of her neck, like Mayven had taught me once. There was no heartbeat, and the girl’s chest was not moving. I’d killed her.

The crowd erupted into raucous cheering, and the Emperor leaned over and whispered something to the fire breather. The fire breather held up a thumb, and the crowd mirrored him. I watched them celebrate the death of the girl I’d killed and fought back a wave of dizziness. My limbs felt heavy and cold, and my head fuzzy. The fire breather sent down a wave of flames to consume her body, clearing the battle grounds for the following match. The guards escorted me away, retreating into the cold darkness of the underside of the colosseum. Banshee stood in the shadows as he always did, eyes narrowed and trained on me.

“That was one of my finest fighters,” he said.

I didn’t know if he’d intended the words as an accusation or a compliment, but I didn’t care, either way. I felt numb and murderous and exhausted all at the same time.

_#_

That evening, the body count had risen. Our ranks were considerably smaller, as our number had been cut in half in a single day. Horse-drawn carts made their ways in caravans out of the city gates, returning the dead contenders to their families. The spectators had dispersed, and His Highness had returned to the safety of his palace. I stared down at the food on my plate without seeing it. My stomach was still in knots, and food made me nauseous. My face reflected in the dining plate, a hollow expression with sad eyes. Tessie sat at the other end of the table, glancing at me when she thought I wasn’t looking. No one spoke or laughed anymore. We were separated by empty space—voids left where bodies had once been, warm and living and hopeful. Some of them were returning home on their own two feet, while others lay cold and dead under a linen cloth.

Ian’s death still burdened me. He’d been among the first to die, and not in the pits, either. He’d been attacked by someone with the ability to burn, and the only person I’d witnessed with power like that stood by the Emperor’s side. Surely there were others, I’d reasoned. Why would a high-ranking guard want Ian dead? Moreover, the Emperor’s fire breather used his ability to incinerate the girl I’d buried, erasing her completely. If he’d been the culprit, there was no sense in leaving Ian’s body behind to inspire questioning. Not when he could simply erase him for good. That meant it had to be someone else, someone without the skill or forethought to do what the Emperor’s fire breather had done today.

“Thank the gods,” William breathed.

He slid onto the bench beside me, his plate in his hands. His right eye was blackened, and his arms marred with various cuts. I wanted to ask him about them, but I couldn’t make my lips move.

“I heard about today,” he said. He laid a hand on my shoulder and brushed a thumb tenderly across my face. Tears threatened to spill, and I blinked them away.

“Do you want to talk about it, Ash?”

I shrugged.

“I knew it would come to this eventually,” I croaked. “I knew the day would come when I would have to kill another person. I suppose I hadn’t considered it as often as I should have.”

“Death is difficult to behold,” he said.

“Yes. Especially when it’s by your own hand,” I finished.

He gulped his drink and nodded solemnly.

“Especially then.”

“Did you fight today?”

He nodded. “Yes, and tomorrow will be my day in the pits. The matches will progress more quickly now. Our ranks will shrink by the day.”

I nodded glumly.

“Where’s Tessie?”

I jerked my chin at her, and she pretended not to watch us in her peripheral.

“What happened between you two?”

So I told him about her warnings and her meeting with Banshee. Then I told him about the old woman who saw Ian shortly before his murder.

_#_

“Why would Ian have questions about the old woman’s tonics?” William asked as we strode side by side through the courtyard as dusk fell. A few of the remaining contenders lingered in the corridors and lounged on the grass as the night watchmen milled about. The city traders had packed away their wares for the night, preparing to rise early the next morning. Fire pits glowed with spent embers as smoke wafted through the evening air.

“It could be nothing,” I reasoned. “Perhaps he was just interested in them.”

“You suspect something else?” William pressed.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that the old woman had been trying to tell me something of importance. She’d told me about Ian for a reason, and her face betrayed her shock and fear when I’d delivered the news of his death.

“She wouldn’t elaborate,” I said carefully, “but I can’t shake the notion that his curiosity might have had something to do with his murder.”

“I don’t understand. Why would he concern himself with the old woman and her tonics?”

“My brother used to hear rumors in the tap houses,” I said.

“Go on.”

“Travelers whispered of an uprising. Some said the empire was vulnerable since the Emperor secluded himself behind the walls of his palace. The outer regions were being raided and slavers were taking villagers near the coastal regions.”

William cast an exasperated glance at the night sky.

“What has that got to do with anything?” he asked.

“What if something else is happening here? What if Ian uncovered something he wasn’t supposed to know about, and they killed him for it?”

William looked at me like I’d sprouted another head.

“Ash, I think that’s a great deal of speculation.”

“Maybe so, William, but my instincts say there is something else happening, and Ian’s death wasn’t arbitrary. Tessie and I saw his body. Those weren’t stab wounds in his gut. They were burns.”

“Tell me what you suspect.”

“I haven’t decided yet. I don’t trust Banshee. And I’ve seen him speaking with Tessie, and she’s not acting herself. Something or someone has her unsettled, William. Ian dies under suspicious circumstances, and the old woman—”

I stopped short, hit with a sudden epiphany.

It wasn’t her tonics Ian had been interested in. It was their ingredients.

“It’s the lavender,” I breathed.

“What?”

I grabbed William’s shirtsleeve and tugged him close to me.

“It was the lavender!” I exclaimed. “The old woman said she traded for the lavender at her booth. Sailors brought it in on their ships. It could be that Ian wanted to know who the old woman was trading with!”

“Why would that matter to him?”

“I’m not sure, but I intend to find out.”

_#_

William followed me to the docks, complaining the entire way. I’d urged him to return to the training grounds, but his honor wouldn’t permit it. I smelled the docks before I saw them; the heavy, putrid smell of decaying fish entrails permeated the air, making my nauseous all over again. William wrinkled his nose and gagged, and I smothered a giggle. The old, wooden buildings dotting the pier were mildewing and saturated with the smell of the ocean. Grungy- looking seamen tromped along the wooden plants, spitting and whistling and smoking their pipes. Down the way, a small taphouse glowed like a tiny candle along the shore, its music drifting through the night air. The boats were anchored and silent as the water lapped against their hulls. The wooden planks of the decks were littered with fraying rope and bird excrement. The moon shone across the water, and a single, drunken pirate stumbled along the outer deck, nearly falling into the water.

“What are we doing here?” William hissed.

“Finding Ian’s killer,” I reminded him.

Ducking low, I scurried along the deck and behind the hull of a ship, peeking out from around it. William cursed as he followed me close behind, muttering something about insufferable females. I reminded him that if he lacked the fortitude, he was free to return to the training grounds on his own. He scowled at me.

“You’re going to get us both killed,” William complained.

“A shame there will be no audience to clap for it,” I retorted.

William kept silent.