Phony Potions

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"I'm going to go." I said, tapping Mallow's wrist to get her attention. "I got to pee."

Mallow rolled her eyes. Her adoration was back to the center of the ring. I hadn't gone all day and now was as good as time as any. Much to my surprise, there were actually public chamber pots half a block from the show, set up to handle the influx of party goers. After relieving myself, I realized I had nowhere more interesting to go and made my way back to the fight.

Just like with the play, it now was impossible to get to where I had been standing before. I managed to sneak onto the very edges of the crowd. Mallow was the only reason we'd been able to snag any seat we wanted. Swearing, I moved until I saw her.

She stuck out, so it wasn't too hard. She was screaming herself ragged in excitement. The rest of the crowd was thrashing and shouting too. Something really violent was happening down there finally, and I was missing all of it! Even nudging and elbowing, I was still not quite big enough to get where I wanted to be. The bodies pressed in on either side of me, warm and uncomfortable, like fighting your way out of a tangled blanket in the summer.

The din was punctuated by gasps of terror followed by a heavy silence. The quiet was broken by one murmuring laugh, and then a second, until suddenly everyone was laughing and cheering. Applause rolled across the dozens of hands, creating an artificial rumbling thunder that shook me in the back of my teeth. Mallow was jumping up and down. The people standing on either side of her had been struggling to keep their balance as she shook the walkway.

Although I had missed the good action, I had to reunite with Mallow all the same. I ducked low. This way, although I touched a good many kneecaps accidentally, I was making steady progress to where Mallow was. I passed the Boerens, going out of my way to avoid brushing against one of the large, woolly, and armor-covered legs. Who knows what sort of tempers they had about a violation of personal space?

"Fake," one of their voices rumbled above me. It was an odd combination of a low, deep sound wrapped with a high-pitched, clipping squeal. Like hearing a pig grunt, except in comprehensible syllables. "Shiny men faked it all. Real fights not pretty like that."

"Are you saying Sir Osoro cheated?" That was Mallow, shouting across the noise of the applause. I shrank in horror. Oh no. Mallow, don't. Please, don't...

"Of course he cheated. Too pretty to win a fight right." The shortest of the Boeren, the one running his mouth, pounding his hoofed hand against his chest. I wondered how they managed to use tools with hands like that, noticing only one tiny nubby thumb besides the two cloven fingers.

I popped my head up. I was still too far away from Mallow to grab her arm or anything, but I tried shouting for her.

"Mallow! Don't!"

It must have seemed like I was goading her, and soon the entire crowd was joining in.

"You know, I always thought the Avalon's won't be able to handle real battle."

"What, of course they can. Don't you remember when they saved that family of fourteen from that burning hay barn?"

"People who get hurt have scars, like the elves."

"That's a choice. I saw Sir Fayd lose an entire hand to a bear last year. He cast it back."

The random comments were split, either supporting the Boeren or Mallow's claims. Stuck between the two behemoths, but not close enough to either, I knew what was going to happen and was powerless to stop it.