Page 8

This isn't the cave we were in before. I sit up, puzzled, and look for Corvak. He's seated in the back of the cave, pulling open what looks like a briefcase-sized woven basket with a lid andsniffing the contents. He glances up at me and gives me a small nod of acknowledgment. "You're awake. Good."

"Did I miss something?" I ask, stifling a yawn. "Like a change in scenery?"

He doesn't answer that, but instead asks, "How do you feel?"

"Surprisingly good." I rub my neck, and my fingers don't feel like ice. In fact, all of me feels comfortable. Is it a little brisk? Yes, but I can handle brisk. I move the blankets to look at my feet, and sure enough, they're clean. "Did you wash my feet? Did the weather change?"

His eyes narrow. "You don't remember?"

I open my mouth to reply when a flurry of half-starved, confused memories flood in. Corvak, fighting what looked like a saber-tooth tiger. Corvak cutting the creature open and shoving all the organs into the snow as if searching for the prize in the Cracker Jack box. When he didn't find what he was hunting for, he cracked the ribs open and squished the heart and then held out a glowing spaghetti noodle to me.

Things get fuzzy after that.

"I kinda remember you dismembering the tiger-thing, but that's all."

He moves to my side and crouches, and I notice that his loincloth has just about had it. The now-filthy fabric is in tatters, and I can see everything outlined. And by everything, I mean a rather large frank and beans. Jesus. "Show me your arm, Aidy."

I hold it out, curious, and he runs his fingers over my skin, looking for something. I don't see any cuts or bruises. He grunts, surprised, and his gaze flicks to me. He stares into my eyes for so long that it makes me uncomfortable. "What?"

"You don't feel any different?"

I shake my head. "I mean, other than I'm no longer freezing my ass off. Did the temperature go up this morning?"

"You've been out most of the day. It's now night."

What…? Have I truly been asleep so long? I look around me for the entrance to the cave, but when I find it, it's covered by what looks like a stiff partition of some kind. I can't see anything outside. The last time I was awake, the sun was just coming up, but now I think it's dark.

Howis it dark?

"I'm so confused." I scrub my face with my hands, and I could swear there's a faint blue glow from somewhere around here. I glance over at him and he's still staring at me…or more specifically, my eyes. "What is it?"

He shakes his head. "I did not realize your eyes would change so vividly. I should have guessed, but it is surprising to see. The other male's eyes were not nearly as bright as yours."

"My eyes changed? What are you talking about?" I touch my temple, but there's no mirror here where I can see what he's referring to. "Changed how?"

"They are blue. Just like the others." Corvak sounds thoughtful.

"Whatothers?"

"The other gladiators I ran into. It is how I learned about the necessary parasite."

I know I heard him wrong. The words "necessary" and "parasite" don't go together. "What gladiators? What parasite? Wait—you ran into other survivors? Where are they?" I glance around the cave again. "I don't see anyone."

Corvak shakes his head. "You misunderstand. They are not allies. They are hunting us."

My throat goes dry. "Hunting…us? Why?"

"Because that is how the game is played. And it is why we cannot stay long in this cave." He sets the basket aside and reaches for the next item, and I realize he's wearing what looks like a chest harness of some kind made from leather, and stuckthrough holes in the leather are a half-dozen crude-looking knives.

Weapons. Because we aren't just worrying about our environment. We're worrying about others dropped here, too.

"Tell me more about this game, please," I say, feeling faint.

Corvak opens a leather pouch, sniffs it, and then holds it out to me. "Food. Eat. You'll need your strength."

I take it from him. It smells delicious, and not nearly as peppery as the stuff he brought me last time. I pull out a piece of jerky and take a cautious bite, and then a bigger one when it doesn't burn my mouth. "Don't change the subject. Tell me about these games."

He nods, watching me eat, and then goes back to sorting the goods in the cave. "The ones that clone gladiators like me, they have many different types of games they like to bet upon. There are organized games that take place in arenas, private games between competing stables, and games like this one, where gladiators are dropped to a remote location and must fight to survive."