33
Imrin is twirling his bat exaggeratedly as we circle each other. I simply hold mine by my side. Already anything up to a minute has passed and we haven’t gone near each other. Above us is a low murmur of discontent. I risk a momentary glance towards the Kingsmen, not wanting them to be involved in the way they were when Rush was staying clear of his fight. Imrin’s eyes are still focused on me but it is like they are staring through, rather than at, me.
‘Remember our window, Imrin?’ I say but he doesn’t stop edging around me. ‘Remember our spot, under the blankets, remember what we said?’
In an instant, he has lunged towards me, swinging exaggeratedly, but I manage to step to one side and out of the way. I think of all the food he has had for strength and feel weaker than ever. Hart told me to do what I had to in order to stay alive and I can’t help but hear his words skipping through my mind as I avoid another lunge.
Imrin stumbles a fraction off-balance and I leap forward, swinging quickly and accurately as the wood cracks him over the head.
There is an ‘ooh’ from above and I hear the King clapping, the booming eclipsing all other noises. I risk a glance upwards to see the Minister Prime sitting impassively. Spurred on, I smash Imrin in the legs as the bat makes a satisfyingly hollow-sounding thwack across his limbs.
The King roars a ‘fight back’, leaving me in no doubt about who he is backing. I step forward to land another blow. Then, as I swing downwards towards his chest, Imrin moves quickly, flicking the back of my knees and sending me sprawling. His swiftness takes me by surprise as I drop the bat, landing painfully on my wrists.
My stomach is screeching in pain, my head feels dizzy, but I roll to the side as his bat crashes into the ground mere centimetres away from me with a force I never would have guessed Imrin had in him.
‘Remember what we said!’ I say, but I am scrambling to my feet, not sure Imrin hears me. My eyes flash from the bat on the floor to him as I back away quickly, my arms out wide in submission. ‘Imrin, do you remember?’
‘Yes.’
I glance over my shoulder but the Kingsmen are close and I know I cannot move much further. Imrin slows his pace, knowing I am cornered as the buzz grows around us. I hear a girl’s voice that could be Pietra’s, but I can’t be sure.
Imrin arches back with the bat but I have been fighting with Opie for far too long not to know an opportunity when I see one. Springing off my heels, I jolt forward and crash into his legs, using his weight against him as he topples backwards. His bat clatters across the floor as I try to get to my feet but he is holding onto my injured shoulder. I squeal in pain and, even though he releases me, the damage is done as the fire screams through me.
I hit the ground shoulder-first and the whole side of my body goes numb, my vision clouded with grey stars that spring from the bright lights. I try to stand but the effort feels too much as I hear Imrin scrambling. Moments later he is standing above me, bat in hand.
It is as if the whole arena shrinks down to one person as I hear the King cackling and applauding, my ears blocking everyone else out. I hear his words perfectly: ‘Finish her.’
My breathing is heavy, my chest tight and my fingers unresponsive as Imrin’s silhouette takes a step closer, blocking the light until all I can see is the outline of his arms raised high, ready to strike.