Game of Ash and Bone

Chapter 4 - Let the games begin

The morning of the games dawns extremely bright, in the form of every fluorescent light in the room being switched on. I wake from uncomfortable dreams as usual patting the bed beside me expecting to find another body. I sigh and push off the memories.
We slept mostly clothed, primarily due to the lack of privacy, so we rise, glancing up furtively at the cameras. I wonder if the novelty that our every move is being watched will wear off, then quickly discard the thought. It's not terribly like we'll live long enough for it to even matter.
We're given no time to eat, no sooner are the lights on and we're up than we're being herded out. Tove was instructing the kids to get a last drink from the sink, and I was making a series of rude gestures at the cameras. Just want any loved ones to realize that my personality has remained in tact despite my death.
I put on my backpack and help check Arthur's. He's twitching severely, his head jerking into odd facial expressions. I've mostly started to ignore them as it's involuntarily he still clearly knows what's going on and the like. He has his little knife in one hand. A poor weapon and I'd like to get him a better one.
Lyra is a bit bouncy but Tove gets her bag on and ushers her in line with us. We already agreed on a procession, I bring up the front, Tove the rear, with the kids between us. I've got a couple inches on Tove, not a lot honestly, but I'm still probably going to be considered a greater threat by our fellow contestants.
The guards lead us out of our room. We're in neat formation already, and my face is set. This is a game. One I have a feeling I might be good at.
There's a tunnel down to the arena, damp and smelling of blood. Contestants limping back in? I highly doubt they bother to remove bodies. The Game of Ash and Bone didn't get it's name because remains are properly disposed of. Each level of the labyrinth is set on fire to dispose of rotting remains, leaving nothing but bones, ashes, and the stains of blood on the walls. I'm not sure how I know that as it wasn't in the video, and I ignore the thought. The macabre knowledge does me no good at the moment.
We march down the tunnel, the little ones are actually quiet, though out of the corner of my eye I see Arthur's shoulder's twitch. I'm used to the tic now and don't look back.
The doors to the arena open and for the first time since, well I died, I'm bathed in harsh sunlight. A sandy floor awaits, as well as the entrance to the maze. I can hear a muffled announcement on loudspeakers. Our team name, and the odds, I suppose all that relevant information? I have the momentary thought that I hope they don't read my name out, if Lex is listening I want him to wonder where I am. Then I quickly discard it. I haven't thought about him in a while I don't know why he creeps back into my mind. He doesn't matter now.
We walk out onto the sandy floor, stretching around the entire labyrinth. We can run around it, or enter the nearest door. I can hear the chanting of the crowd in the distance. Of course other contestants will be entering at the same time, and others are already in the maze. I blink, my eyes adjusting to the light. Sure enough other tunnels are opening, and I can see other groups stepping out.
"In?" I ask.
"Yeah," Tove concurs.
"Ten o'clock," Arthur hisses, little knife clutched in his hand.
It seems we weren't the only thing released. More doors are opening, and monsters are also emerging into the light. My first thought is that I need to teach the kid what 'ten o'clock' means that is one o'clock it's not just a saying please never spot until you know this. Then I push that way and think about the monsters clearly emerging from the darkened tunnels.
Packs of large cats, panthers? Lions? Something big with teeth, likely genetically altered I don't think they were originally that big. And they are starving, I can see every bone through flea bitten, patchy fur. There's a set off three that just came out of a tunnel, not fifty paces from us. I mentally calculate the distance between us the the maze. I'd like to make them attack us one at a time and use the walls to my advantage. But we're not going to make it.
I ready my axe, rocking on the balls of my feet. The first two see us, and charge.
And in my wildest dreams. I did NOT anticipate little baby Lyra's reaction to being attacked by bloodthirsty monsters as. That child. To simply cover her sweet little eyes, smiling and say in the nicest most sincere voice ever, "No scary stuff!"
As if that will in fact dispel the scary stuff.
I don't have time to contemplate either if it's better she's waiting for the scary stuff to disappear or be repelled, or if a little healthy fear would like help.
The first lion charges us and I run forward, swinging the axe as it leaps into the air. I feel the weapon make contact and drop to my knees, skidding in the sand, as the corpse falls, belly split open. I'm sprayed with hot blood.
"Go!" Tove shouts, ushering the kids forward. I nod in concurrence. We need to make it to the maze. Now. Out in the open we'll be picked off one by one.
The corpse buys us precious time, two of the monsters run to feast on the freshly spilled blood. I fall in just behind the others, as I hear the pound of footsteps behind us. Lyra is running with her hand over her eyes, Tove tugs her in the proper direction.
Panting and already covered in blood, we enter the labyrinth. In the distance I can hear the crowd cheering, for us or the animals I don't know. I like to pretend it's for the animals I enjoy being the underdog. As I think that thought it very briefly occurs to me that I have a head problem. Then I ignore that as well as picture how Lex would feel seeing me covered in blood like this, holding an axe. That idea fills me with pleasure and I haven't thought about him in a while so I indulge. I assume I'm pleased because he'd be afraid of me.
"We have to move—shit," Tove was going to continue down the maze. There were three directions then she picked one at random, but from that direction there is a large, looks like horse dog? Yeah that's what I'm going with horse dog. It has the legs and body of a dog, but is the size of a horse. But is a horse's head but the mouth fully opens like a dog. Honestly terrifying. Lyra sums it up best:
"Scary stuff!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Arthur turns. The lion-panthers are approaching from the opposite side.
"I got the horse dog," I say, moving to that side.
"That is definitely a crocodile!" Arthur wheezes.
The horse-dog charges, and I ready my axe. I hear Tove cry out as the lion-panthers roar, but I don't dare look back.
The monster leans up and launches itself at me. I swing my axe but the momentum of the creature's attack means it still collides with me, jaws snapping, even if my axe is buried in its skull. I roll with the blow, as I feel teeth tear my flesh. My tumble is only stopped by contacting the wall.
I wrestle my way out from under the monster, I'm dripping with blood but doesn't feel like much of it is mine. I tug my axe free and hold it in my bloodied hands, turning to prepare to help the others. Tove is just finishing off a lion-panther with the butt of her bat, and another man is withdrawing a sword from another. Another contestant apparently, split from his group? He's dressed completely in black, hair shaved short, and eyes a light brown. He's splattered in blood but definitely doing better than we are.
Arthur is in front of Lyra. Good to know Lyra wasn't traumatized.
"Scary stuff?" She slowly starts to move her hand.
"No more Scary Stuff, come on," I say, nodding to the kids.
"That'll buy us a minute," the man says, slicing open a lion-panther's gut, and letting blood leak onto the ground. He then leaps over it nimbly. Oh it's not his first game is it?
Tove nods, taking Lyra's arm and we progress down the narrow passage.
"Fine axe," the man says, looking at me again. He's causal now. So those corpses will throw them off. Good.
"Who are you?" Tove asks, still holding Lyra's arm.
"First time?" The man asks, looking at us, "Yeah it is. Tip for you if you see this," he turns around to show us the back of his neck. On it are tattooed three lines, of descending size. "Run."
"You've been through before—three times," I realize.
He nods, winking, "Name's Nemo Lotus. And I'm the only reason any of you are going to make it past the first level alive."
"Why in the God's name should we trust you?" Tove asks.
"You don't have to," Nemo laughs, sheathing his sword.
"Because we're his bait," Tove frowns, "You're using us as bait to get through the first part of the labyrinth, because monsters are going to eat us long before they try to go after you."
Nemo nods, walking past us, "Shall we continue?"
Tove and I look at each other slowly.
"We've got nothing to lose," I say.
"He could kill us," she says.
"So could anything, at least he's got a selfish reason to keep us alive as bait," I point out, "He knows there's strength in numbers."
"If he wanted to kill us we'd be dead," Arthur says, frowning, "I don't think he wants to kill us."
Lyra takes my hand leaning against me.
"Well? Are you coming?" Nemo asks, turning around casually.
We are coming. I don't like it either but he might prove useful.
"An extra pair of hands can't hurt," Tove says.
"Yeah, just don't talk to him," I tell mostly Lyra.
"I'm talking to him. Hey you, motherfucker, if you've been through the maze before then you know the way to level two right?" Arthur calls, jogging up to join our new companion.
I expect some mild surprise or resentment for being cussed out by the twitching thirteen year old but Nemo quite clearly smothers amusement. That's an interesting reaction but he probably thinks we'll be dead soon.
"The labyrinth changes, these walls can shift and alter, while some passages might look familiar they may very well lead to a dead end," Nemo explains, "Each night they close off passages with too many dead, and incinerate the remains. Then they reopen different sides. There's infinite combinations."
"Who are you? Like really, other than being through before," Tove asks, hurrying to beat Lyra to walking at Nemo's side. The little girl hangs back, concern in her soft face.
"I don't recall you introducing yourselves?" Nemo asks, smoothly. And I'm struck by the fact that his vocabulary is matching my own. Unlike the others who curse and use more basic phrases he's shown even in a few minutes a varied use of phrases. Infinite combinations comes to mind, 'recall you introducing yourselves' we're not at a tea party. He's not just a random fighter.
"Tove Spell, this is Lyra Rey," Tove acknowledges.
"Arthur Flynn," Arthur says.
"Cosmo Nyx," I say, "Cosmo is fine. Now who are you?"
"No better a man than you," Nemo says, holding up an arm casually. On his wrist he bears the mark of a slave, but his is of a different district, waves and a hammer? He's from—? Iceland. Icelandic slaves bear that mark. I don't know how I know that.
"You were resurrected?" Tove asks.
"Sold, I slept with the master's daughter," he smirks. I shrug because I'm sure I'm not better than that.
"Why did they get mad you were asleep?" Lyra asks.
"Because it was in the same proximity as someone very important, and I'm a slave so people get cross," Nemo says, quickly, the smirk fading as he answers her actually nicely.
"You can be our friend," Lyra offers.
"No, he can't," Arthur and I say at the same time.
"That's my story. I'm still here. What about the four of you?" Nemo asks.
"I was in the way," Lyra says.
"None of your fucking business," Arthur says.
"Resurrected so everything from this week is new to me," I say.
"Same but I was like a few days earlier than him," Tove says, shaking her head.
"And you spotted my tattoo," I say. Pretty quick but it makes sense he'd size me up. He looks my age I guess, maybe ten years older. I don't know how old I am. Maybe early twenties? He's probably by the lines in his face, past thirty.
"Hm, fun cause of the death the first time?" Nemo asks.
"I was shot—he was stabbed," Tove says, frowning at the choice of conversations.
"Look we want to get through this alive too. I realize you're—the expert here but if you really expect us to trust you you need to start giving us some information. We're not exactly competition but the longer we survive the longer we're barriers for you," I point out.
"I can find more barriers," Nemo says, smoothly.
"If you've won three times how come I haven't heard of you?" Arthur asks.
"You watch the Game?" Nemo asks, clearly a little surprised that the foul mouthed child has been allowed out of the house let alone near a television.
"Yeah," Arthur says, I wonder if he's lying. "So? If you've won three times how come I haven't ever heard your name?"
"My sponsor doesn't market me by my name. They call me the Puppetmaster," Nemo answers.
Arthur stops putting out a hand to stop me and Lyra, "He's psychic."
"And so are you," Nemo says, smiling a half smile, clearly entertained.
"He's a dangerous psychic. They wanted to outlaw him from the games after the last time when he reached level five and made his opponent cut his own throat. No one cared because all the money was riding on him winning, most of it," Arthur says, disgusted.
"Why didn't you—whatever—hypnotize those lion panthers?" I ask.
"Those were normal lions it's important to me he knows that," Nemo says, holding out a hand.
"So you're psychic? Enough to—control minds?" Tove asks.
"Yeah, that have anything to do with why you got turned fucking over to the games?" Arthur asks, twitching.
"Do you know—it was not?" Nemo laughs, "That was not why it was the other—thing. Funnily enough. Apparently volunterring as the princess' whore can cost you a job? I think someone should have told me? I was a guard."
"Okay," so he's an idiot. I can't remember making worse choices than that so I'm pretending they probably didn't happen. It does kind of track if he was on some guard and got in trouble for sleeping with a rich girl. And that would explain why he's won so much. In fact it makes him a bit more trustworthy, all that makes sense so he's just in it to survive.
"Why didn't you tell us you were psychic?" Tove asks.
"Why didn't you tell me he is?" Nemo points at Arthur.
"Who says I am?" Arthur asks.
"The fear your eyes when you said the word," Nemo purrs.
"Leave him alone, you can stay with us, just don't scare the kids, or expand their vocabulary," I mutter.
"I didn't! He called me a motherfucker five minutes ago," Nemo laughs, walking on. We reluctantly follow him.
"What's a whore?" Lyra asks.
"A not very nice word for men like him, and maybe me," I say.
"Oh," she says, quietly.
"Intersection, I assume none of you will trust me to pick?" Nemo pauses at a split in the path. Both ways look identical.
Tove looks at me.
"That way," Arthur points.
"Why?" I ask, not really doubting it.
"We came from back there, took a right when the very normal lions followed us, that way looks like back out so you normally wouldn't choose that, so we do it's against logic so it'll probably lead somewhere," Arthur gestures.
Nemo shrugs a little.
"Sounds good to me," Tove says.
"What no opinion?" I ask Nemo.
"No I don't much care you see I'll get out either way," he says, following us. I slow my pace to walk back with him, nodding for Tove to take the lead.
"What's that?" Lyra points up. I see a flash somewhere in the crowd.
"Taking better footage, probably someone's off getting killed. That came from the Grandmaster's box so they like to have a good feed," Nemo says.
"It did?" I ask. He doesn't have reason to lie about that I assume. "You know where all the boxes are?"
"Yeah, not my first time. I've been recalled up. Don't believe the orientation videos. Primary motive is bedslave," he scoffs.
"Figured," Tove says, dryly.
"It's not so bad. You get out of this hellhole for one, be amusing enough you get food and to see a doctor. They're usually betting on you so it's in their best interest to send you back well fed and healthy," Nemo explains, "There, grandmaster of the games, all of the team owners watch from up there. You're Festus' crew? He always watches his contestants he runs some good groups. Over there? The Sergetta family."
"Closest thing we have left to royalty," Arthur supplies.
"Quite. Their line is distinguished, and for the most part disgustingly in bred. They take pride in producing only the most powerful and well groomed psychics," Nemo says, with obvious loathing, "That and genetic mutations mean their lifespans are grossly extended, the old man's been alive for a few hundred years."
"Gross," Arthur says.
"Do they—not have an heir or something?" I remember something like that.
"Disappeared, likely murdered for being a cunt, years ago, it was a big deal," Arthur supplies, "They don't go out in public without masks so mysteriously hard to question people. The cops were at the brothel all the time over it. Fucking waste of time."
"Theron family there, they're rich old money mostly war profiteering. They almost never attend the games but have a box to keep up appearances. Once after I won they bought me for exclusive interviews never met any of them though," Nemo points to another box, mostly obscured by fog, "That's the Kline family, you don't know them because you have no memory but you do in theory from their anti-psychic campaigns, they're the ones whose contestant I beat they wanted me out of the game. Hate my guts so total disclosure they may try to buy me just to kill me I'm fine with that."
"Huh, wouldn't that not be allowed?" Tove asks.
"Because you think this gladiatorial experience is fair—? I don't give a fuck," Nemo shrugs, "And that one is the Tarik box. Not old money just kind of old family. Dying out, they're lucky to get a seat in parliament still. Alexander Terik, the 9th, he's mostly infirm now like three hundred years old, given up on his son, the 10th, who's spending the family fortune or what's left of it as fast as possible, on wine, beslaves, and pleasure. Country wide waste of space as far as anyone is concerned. And you look like his type to be perfectly honest."
"Me?" Tove asks, upset.
"No," Nemo says, pointing at me.
"Oh," she says.
"Ew," Arthur says.
"Hey it means one of us gets a decent night's sleep. I'm saying don't be surprised," Nemo says, shrugging, "The Klines will almost definitely be trying to kill me."
"You didn't get this far by just giving interviews. Someone has to be paying for regular breaks," Tove guesses.
"Do we—recall—how I said I got here?" Nemo asks, waving a hand, "I don't know if she's still here but my princess is used to me."
"So what? You go through the games until you die?" I ask.
"Didn't they tell you? Seven wins and I get out, I've got four to go," Nemo says, smiling with more malice than humor.
Arthur sighs a little, twitching again. He knows fully well that's likely true. If this nutcase has won three times we don't really stand a chance on our first round.
But I'd sure as hell like to try.
I'm up for a challenge. And I can't help but feel like my past has to somehow matter. It's not just chance I'm here like this. Intimate stabbing in the heart isn't a typical way to go. And why does his accent and vocabulary sound so natural to me? Sure he's saying he worked in a great house, fine, so did I apparently.
"Have we met before?" I ask frowning.
"Oh you wouldn't know my face," Nemo says, gesturing to himself generally, "Even if you think you're getting a memory it's not gonna be me."
"What's your accent?" Arthur frowns.
"Northern islands," he says, pointing at his wrist tattoo, "It's where I'll go when I win."
"Why? Don't the Sergetta's hire psychics?" Arthur asks.
"What'd you know about them?" Nemo asks.
"Answer the question fucknut," Arthur says.
Again I'm surprised to only get humor but Nemo clearly resists laughing, "No, don't go near them."
"I mean I'm not gonna have the chance cause you'll fucking murder me," Arthur says.
"They don't hire psychics. They were on—breeding psychics, for years—yeah something like that," I frown, "Trying to unlock immortality."
"And associated bullshit," Nemo says.
"How do you know—right you don't know," Tove says, snapping her fingers.
"Yeah I don't know," I shrug, "I assume I was a guard or something, same as him."
Except my memory with Lex on that rooftop didn't make senes. I haven't thought him lately and it's a comfort to go back to the ghost that seems to only live in my head. Lex is a constant in my past, every memory I've gotten involves him. We were on stake out? What did that mean? I mean maybe we were guarding something. That would I guess make a little sense. But if he's my best friend who owned us? And how did I end up here?
I find myself looking up at the boxes, through the fog. All of them gawking down at us, but what about the one person who will be looking for me? My wife obviously. I have a desperate love that is misplaced somehow in my chest. And I don't know who is supposed to have it.
I go back to thinking about Lex, to console myself. That tends to make me feel better he's a link to my past and it's honestly been a while since I tried to remember his mismatched eyes. Every time the memory becomes clear it's a sweet comfort as I hold onto that one true thing. Even if he doesn't do me any good. I feel a little bad blaming him for killing me, when I don't have proof other than the creeping sense it was in fact his fault. Why else do I keep thinking of him?
"You know usually ressurection victims, remember what was most important to them. Not holding out on me are you, Nyx?" Nemo asks, casually, waking me from my thoughts.
"I remember my murderer, that's about it," I say, poisonously. I'm angry he addressed me by name and I don't know why.
"I was shot escaping I think. That's all," Tove lies. I give a tiny nod. We're not about to tell this guy everything. Even though I don't know what good the information would do him. But he's psychic don't they by definition have weird powers?
"I can't put a spell on you I'm begging you to calm down," Nemo guesses our thoughts.
"Psychics can only sense other psychics—I don't know how but we can—and control minds he can't enter them. I think," Arthur offers.
"Here," Nemo stops holding out his hand.
Arthur stares at him suspiciously.
"I'll show you," Nemo nods, "Go on."
Arthur reaches out and lays his hand over the man's calloused one. He then winces pulling back.
"Feel that? Psychic. Once you're attuned to it you can sense others," Nemo says.
"That hurt!" Arthur rubs his hand.
"I'm not weak. Nor are you," Nemo says, almost appreciatively? Yes by the tip to his mouth some amusement at his little fellow psychic, "That was only because I was showing you here—much softer." He pats Arthur's hand.
"How did you do that?" Arthur asks.
"It's a feel, you'll get used to it," Nemo guarantees, then tells us, "It's like static electricity, but a bit sharper. And cold, it's an acquired sense. Mostly you ignore it when you're used to being around the other psychics."
Arthur shakes his hand, glaring at Nemo a little.
"So we agree we do not at all trust this guy?" Tove whispers to me.
"I mean, no, but our options are currently very limited," I say.
We continue making our way through the labyrinth. Twice we come upon a turn we already made. Which tells me two very interesting things.
One) Nemo is willingly letting us backtrack rather than give us more helpful directions
Two) my plan is working! Fun!
No I don't know if it's fully working till after it's actually completely succeeded. But this is a damn good step closer to it succeeding. And I'm burning to know what Nemo thinks he's doing. He knows we're nearly going in circles. Not to say I notice the wrong turns we've made. I completely don't. But he surely has a better sense of direction by now.
The sun is rapidly disappearing behind the fog. Our first day in the maze is coming to a close. And we've walked in nearly a complete circle. And Nemo let us.
"We should stop for the night," Tove reasons, "It's getting dark. We want to conserve our strength."
"I'm sleepy," Lyra agrees, leaning against her.
"You —are joking?" Nemo asks, stopping and turning around.
"What you don't fucking sleep?" Arthur asks, face twitching into a weird expression.
"Not in the labyrinth—you don't know what I'm talking about," Nemo scans all our faces, definitely coming up blank in my case.
"What there are more monsters?" Tove asks.
"Worse. People. Groups, such as your lovely selves, sometimes choose—not to try to complete the labyrinth. Instead remaining—feral—inside," Nemo says.
"What do they eat?" Lyra asks.
I'm about to say I don't know then Tove and I look at each other then at Nemo.
"They're cannibals. They hunt people," Nemo defines.
"Scary stuff?"
"Yes, definitely," I say.
"What they do this at night?" Arthur asks.
"By the fires that burn the remains, they catch new —prey. That would be all of you," Nemo says, "Obviously the animals hunt as well, but the cannibal raiders will be on the hunt since new groups entered today. We need to make more time. Before any of you say—,"
All three of us, "YOU COULD HAVE TOLD US THAT !!!!!!!" Arthur adds profanity.
"—that, I genuinely thought those rumors were outside by now," Nemo holds up his hands, "I tell—so many people. That that happens. Like a lot. I talk about it a lot I thought everyone knew."
"NO!"
"Shh, keep your voices down. And keep moving."
"Yeah what's the worst that could happen following you?" I growl.
"Ah—you're hunted by cannibals at night? That's literally the worst and that's about to happen."