Blood Red Road

all be gittin ready.
    She sent word back with Emmi that once they smuggle me through the gauntlet, we’ll head straight fer the cellblocks where I’ll help ’em set all the fighters free. After we set fires goin all over town, we’ll make our way to the northeast corner, well away from the Gate. Everybody else’ll be leavin the burnin town that way. Not us. The Hawks is makin a hole in the palisade fer us to escape through. One of the Hawks’ll bring Emmi there.
    So that’s it.
    Well … not quite. I’m fine with everythin up to the point where the Hawks smuggle me through the gauntlet. After that, I got other plans fer me an Em.

    I lose to Epona.
    I make it look good. Real good. I let my right foot slip an Epona’s on me like a jackal on a corpse. She gits me in a strong headlock. I push back the red hot that tells me to fight back.
    In the blue skies above the Colosseum, Nero swoops an screams with fear. I wish I could tell him why I’m doin what I’m doin, but I cain’t.
    At first, the crowd cain’t hardly believe it. You can see it in their faces. Not the Angel of Death. She’s unbeaten. Unbroken. Unstoppable.
    But then they git the whiff of blood, my blood, an they howl fer more. In the end, they don’t care whose blood it is.
    Maev’s in the front row. As I lie on the ground, our eyes meet. She nods. That’s one fight down. Two more to go.

    I ain’t bin back in the cellblock more’n a few minutes when the door slams open.
    There’s a shout. Make way fer the King! Make way!
    My innards lurch. My mouth goes dry. I go over to the door of my cell. Press myself aginst the bars so’s I can see better.
    Twelve Tonton with torches run in, pushin the cellblock guards outta the way. They line theirselves up along the length of the cellblock. They lift their torches to light a path.
    A man steps through the door.
    I don’t believe it. It’s the man from Rooster Pinch’s book. He stands in the doorway with his walkin stick. Jest like the picture in the book. Thick black curly hair down past his shoulders an piled high on top. Animal skins thrown over one shoulder, trailin behind him onto the floor. Fancy shirt with frilly collar an cuffs. Short, puffy little britches that show his legs. White stockins. High heeled shoes. Sword at his side.
    His face is painted white. His mouth’s painted red, like one of the Hopetown whores.
    What was it Rooster called him? Lewis Ex Eye Vee. The Sun King of France. Dead fer hunnerds of years, he said. So it cain’t really be him. It’s somebody who looks like him.
    He starts to walk down the cellblock, head high. He takes tiny steps, like his shoes is too tight. He’s holdin a white lace keercheef to his nose.
    The fighters in the big cage next to me, they’re all doin like I am, crowdin up to the bars of their cell to git a good look at him.
    The Tonton bow their heads. Your Majesty, each one murmurs as he goes past.
    A man follows a little ways behind him. It’s DeMalo. My heart clutches. No. Please. Not him. Right away, my body goes all tight.
    After DeMalo, comes Miz Pinch. What the hell’s she doin here?
    Suddenly I realize. They’re comin straight down the cellblock. Straight towards me. I scramble back onto my cot. Push myself into the corner. Feel the cold stone of the wall through my thin tunic.
    The King’s here. The one who’s got Lugh. Maybe he’s here to take me. Maybe they caught Maev. Somehow found out our plan.
    Don’t say a word. Don’t give nuthin away. Don’t look at DeMalo .
    The King stops in front of my cell. DeMalo stands jest behind him, in the shadows. My heart’s bangin in my chest so loud, they must be able to hear it.
    Miz Pinch rushes past DeMalo. She grabs hold of my cell bars an shakes ’em. I know she wishes she was shakin my neck.
    What was that? she shrieks. What d’you call that?
    I says naught. Keep my head down.
    You threw that fight! she spits. You might be able to fool them chaaled-up morons, but you don’t fool me. You threw it an I wanna know why.
    Calm yourself, woman. The King’s got a voice like a mouth full of damp earth.
    A shudder ripples along my spine.
    But I know her, son, says Miz Pinch. Vicar, I know this one! She’s the—
    His arms fly up. He smashes her in the face with his walkin stick.
    She cries out. She stumbles, grabs onto the cell bars to keep from fallin. She crouches on the ground. Her lip’s split open. She looks old. Frightened.
    I cain’t hardly believe it. Miz Pinch, the