Chapter 1 Continued
Shuddering also because her bare shoulder brushed by some slimy moldy film on the tiled wall, Tristan kept whispering urgent messages into Tiny's ears, "Keep close during the quiz" "Stay in front of me when we're running" "Remember! Behind me during the fight!, but she knew the chances that Tiny actually heard her were remote.
A crack of a whip behind them hurried the four youngsters along the slimy hallway. The heavy iron-banded door in front of them slid creakily open at their approach, letting in such a downpour of sunlight that the four stood stupidly blinking, trying to adjust their sight.
Tristan and Tiny huddled together, making sure the others around wouldn't separate them. Then she realized someone was in the front, yelling out instructions. "... den youse runs and youse stops odders froms passing youse and dey stops youse. Foist half dat passes de finish line gets ta fight da next round. Odder half gets, " His finger drew quickly across his jugular with a wink behind it. "Oif youse gets whats I means." He quickly turned on his heels and walked into the middle of the arena.
Calling it an arena was like calling a pigsty a castle. The field was about 25 feet by 25 feet with hastily erected stands around the perimeter. Tiny gaped at the gathering crowds and whispered to Tristan "Wow, a lot of people came to see bloodshed." Tristan nodded with a slight gulp. It finally hit her that this was real, that she was really entered into the competition and that there was a good chance that Tiny and her weren't going to make it.
"They're starting off with the race this year?" In years past, she along with the others not entered into the Annual Scholarship Competition, would peek through cell windows to get a glimpse of the competition. She knew that the slavers chose the weakest and the most troublesome to compete. An old slave once explained to her that the weakest rarely lasted as a slave and well, it was easier to get rid of the troublesome during the competition than in slave sales.
She peered up at the crowd and noticed for the first time, that daises had been set up slightly above the crowds at the four ends of the field. Those must be the four schools that are choosing who gets the scholarships. Strange, three of the daises had one high chair, but the third had three - were there three deans of that school? She shrugged realizing that with only four winners, she probably wouldn't be able to find out.
The sun was bright today, she noted. She might be able to use the sunlight to her advantage. She glanced around the field. Not much to hide behind but if she could maneuver Tiny into a corner, she only had to fend off what were in front of them. She hastily whispered a small plan in his ear, then grabbed his face to lock eyes, making sure he understood both the instructions and the importance of them. He nodded, then pried her hands loose. A quick hug for reassurance, but his posture told her that he was expecting death.
Not today! her mind screamed and she clenched her jaw determinedly.
A crack of a whip behind them hurried the four youngsters along the slimy hallway. The heavy iron-banded door in front of them slid creakily open at their approach, letting in such a downpour of sunlight that the four stood stupidly blinking, trying to adjust their sight.
Tristan and Tiny huddled together, making sure the others around wouldn't separate them. Then she realized someone was in the front, yelling out instructions. "... den youse runs and youse stops odders froms passing youse and dey stops youse. Foist half dat passes de finish line gets ta fight da next round. Odder half gets, " His finger drew quickly across his jugular with a wink behind it. "Oif youse gets whats I means." He quickly turned on his heels and walked into the middle of the arena.
Calling it an arena was like calling a pigsty a castle. The field was about 25 feet by 25 feet with hastily erected stands around the perimeter. Tiny gaped at the gathering crowds and whispered to Tristan "Wow, a lot of people came to see bloodshed." Tristan nodded with a slight gulp. It finally hit her that this was real, that she was really entered into the competition and that there was a good chance that Tiny and her weren't going to make it.
"They're starting off with the race this year?" In years past, she along with the others not entered into the Annual Scholarship Competition, would peek through cell windows to get a glimpse of the competition. She knew that the slavers chose the weakest and the most troublesome to compete. An old slave once explained to her that the weakest rarely lasted as a slave and well, it was easier to get rid of the troublesome during the competition than in slave sales.
She peered up at the crowd and noticed for the first time, that daises had been set up slightly above the crowds at the four ends of the field. Those must be the four schools that are choosing who gets the scholarships. Strange, three of the daises had one high chair, but the third had three - were there three deans of that school? She shrugged realizing that with only four winners, she probably wouldn't be able to find out.
The sun was bright today, she noted. She might be able to use the sunlight to her advantage. She glanced around the field. Not much to hide behind but if she could maneuver Tiny into a corner, she only had to fend off what were in front of them. She hastily whispered a small plan in his ear, then grabbed his face to lock eyes, making sure he understood both the instructions and the importance of them. He nodded, then pried her hands loose. A quick hug for reassurance, but his posture told her that he was expecting death.
Not today! her mind screamed and she clenched her jaw determinedly.
posted by resigned idealist @ 11/01/2004 06:17:00 PM
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