Cold Fire (Spiritwalker 2)

“Yee think if them radicals get in power with an Assembly, they will support the general and buy off the Taino?” cried Diantha. “The radicals don’ want a king either.”

“But the general wants to be emperor in Europa, not here,” I said. “You would think the Council, and the radicals, would want to encourage him to go back home, not to hang around because he can’t afford to return.”

“No one want him to hang around,” said Tanny. “There was one time already a man tried to kill the general.”

“What happened?” I glanced at Kayleigh but she was whispering to a friend.

“A man shot at the general when he went to Nance’s Tavern to meet with the local factory union people. The Council blamed the radicals. The radical leaders had broadsheets printed and blamed the Council. Truth is, the general was always a-meeting with both sides.”

The song swept up the risers as the gals joined in: “Give the man yee money, and what do yee get? Yee don’ get nothing, not even a kiss!”

A roar rose from the crowd, drowning out the song. Folk leaped to their feet as the two teams trotted out onto the ball court. Three women dressed in white tabards stood as arbitrators for the game, overseen by an umpire seated on a pedestal. Captains accepted the stone belts that marked their status; flags rose. Today, Rays played Cajayas, and the singing of team chants became deafening as the lead arbitrator tossed the ball into the air to launch the game.

At first, I stood with the others, swaying and shouting, yelping when the ball hit dirt, whooping when a well-placed elbow or knee kept play afloat, for teams lost points if a bad play caused the ball to touch the ground. Diantha offered a running commentary on the players.

Yet a disquieting murmur tugged at my ears. A whiff of burning tickled my nostrils. I pushed to the top of the stone edifice to look over the back wall to the ground below. A troop of wardens had gathered, some carrying lamps and the rest carrying staves and pistols.

I dropped down. Vai was easy to find, not because he was particularly tall but because I immediately recognized the shape of his head and the cut of his shoulders. He swung around to look at me, as if I’d spoken. I lifted my chin. He nodded and, with Kofi to cut a path, started up.

I pushed down through the dancing, chanting throngs as the game surged forward, one player making a shot for the hurricane’s eye—the stone ring—and just missing to a great shout from the crowd, relief and disappointment woven into a single cry.

On the cry’s dying, Vai shoved into view. “Tell me.”

“Wardens! With lamps.”

The flash of destructive glee that flared in Kofi’s face made me wonder how much he hated the wardens and their masters, the Council. “Just what we have been waiting for,” he said in a tone that made me shiver.

Vai pulled me close. “Catherine. Go back to your friends. Stay high until the riot starts. Let the gals hide you. Don’t break away alone.”

“I am not helpless—!”

“Of course you aren’t!” His arm tightened around my back. “That’s not what I mean. It’s going to get ugly. I need you to make sure Kayleigh and Luce get home safely.”

I was momentarily taken aback by the realization that he had just entrusted his sister’s welfare to me, and that he was half embracing me. “Oh. Of course. What about you?”

“Come on,” said Kofi, and Vai released me as if startled to find himself holding me. They took off into the crowd. A hornet’s nest of angry buzzing rose in the trail of their passing. Anxious excitement crawled like mice along my skin. I climbed back to the gals.

“There’s going to be a riot,” I said as I reached them. “Stick close to each other, and we’ll get out safely.” They were smart gals. They listened. “Dee, you and me in the front. Luce, you right behind me with the others. Kayleigh and Tanny, you two use your size in the rear to make sure no one gets left behind. We have to get off the risers and through the crowd. No splitting up.”

A phalanx of wardens had appeared at either end of the long stone risers, on our cheap-seats side only. Not a one inflicted his lit lamp on the wealthy folk avidly watching the game on the other side of the court. The ball arced, struck dirt, bounced, and was sent on its way by a header.

Corncobs, coconut shell bowls, hanks of cassava bread, fruit peelings, and even fragments of broken ceramic cups began to fly. Voices sang out: “Ask for the wardens and what do yee get? Here to bully us, and never a kiss! Who do yee come to arrest? One law for the rich and one for the rest!”

“They shall not trample us today!” Whose voice it was that boomed over the clamor I did not know, but it sounded like Kofi.

Young men shoved forward in a wave. In a tide of linked arms the crowd mowed down the wardens entering at the northern end of the risers. A fight broke out at the southern end, staffs cracking down on unprotected heads but met by fists and knives. People flooded away from the disturbance, many hopping onto the ball court into the middle of the play. In the seats opposite, angry spectators bellowed for order as wardens took up stations to protect them from the crowd.

“The field is clearest!” Diantha quivered beside me like a hound ready to bolt its leash.

“No!” I cried. “We’re going straight through the fight.”

“But Cat—!” Luce’s face washed gray with fear.

“Trust me. In rows, Luce in the center. Link arms. Don’t get separated.”

I forged forward with Diantha as we shoved down the steps. I steered us to where the melee was like a churning tidal catchwater, current and swell and wind all slapping together to make a deadly confluence. But where the fight was worst, we had least chance of being marked out. The air pressure changed. My ears popped. Lamps shattered; rifles and pistols clicked, combustion was killed. The crowd roared and pushed hard into the collapsing line of wardens.

Luce was gulping down sobs, desperately trying to be brave, but Diantha showed no fear as she and I lanced like a spear through any gap we could see. I used my cane ruthlessly to thwack and thrust and trip. Diantha used her knees, elbows, and hips to make way. Tanny, at the rear, levered her weight against any rioter or warden who crashed against us. Kayleigh had the strength of a big-boned girl accustomed to fieldwork.