Blood Red Road

by Dawn-Designs-Art

Hopetown: 1 Month Later

They call me the Angel of Death.

That’s because I ain’t never lost a fight. Every time they take me to the Cage, I let the red hot take me over an it fights till it wins. If it’s the third time unlucky fer the mare that’s jest bin beat, I turn my back so’s I don’t hafta see her run the gauntlet. I cain’t help hearin, though. The bayin of the chaal-crazy crowd, like a pack closin in on their kill. I close my mind off. Don’t let myself think about it. I gotta stay alive. Gotta git outta here an find Sun. He’s still out there somewhere, waitin fer me to come. I know it. They could be keepin him right here in Hopetown.

Hopetown. It’s a cesspit, jest like Mercy said. Every scurfy villain that ever crawled outta a dunghill seems to find their way here. An the Tonton. They’re everywhere, also like Mercy told me, their mostly zebra's an earth ponies, all stallions. They’re personal bodyguards to the Cage Master, who watches the fights from the comfort of his balcony. They control the Gate, checkin who comes into an outta Hopetown. They’re in the watchtowers, one at each corner of the palisade surroundin the city. They’re in charge of the armed guards who control the Colosseum crowds an patrol the streets. They’re in charge of the scum who guard us here in the cellblocks— one block fer the stallion fighters an one fer the mares, another for griffons—an supervise us in the exercise yards.

An the Tonton in charge over all of ’em is Blaze. They say he answers to the Cage Master, but from what I seen that first day, Blaze don’t answer to nopony but hisself. From time to time, he stands on the Cage Master’s balcony while a fight’s on. I ain’t never seen him close up agin. An I hope I never do. But all the guards an the watchtowers an the locked cells an the chains that bind me … none of that’s stopped me tryin to git away, even without my magic to aid me.

The first time, I waited till it was night, then I picked the lock of my cell with a rusty nail I found in a corner of the exercise yard. I got caught tryin to lift the keys from the guard’s belt while he was forty winkin it.

The second time, I was on the way back from the Colosseum when I punched my guard in the face an made a run fer it. Both times, they shoved me into the Cooler to try an break my spirit. That’s what they always do with troublemakers. But a few hours locked in a metal box unnerground ain’t gonna stop me tryin to git outta this place an they know it. That’s why they started chainin me to my cot all the time I’m in my cell. That’s why they keep me in a locked transport cage on my way to an from the Colosseum to fight. An that’s why they search me before they lock me back in my cell. But they don’t ever hurt me. Don’t ever lay even a hoof on me. I don’t fight more’n twice a week. The Angel of Death’s a big draw fer the crowds. I’m the best thing that’s happened to Hopetown in a long time. They wanna make sure it lasts.

I dunno what kinda deal the Pinches made with the Cage Master, but whatever it is, they must be doin fine by it. Sometimes I see her, Miz Pinch, on the Cage Master’s balcony, watchin me fight, but other’n that, I ain’t had no more to do with any of ’em. I also ain’t seen Penny Rose. I hate not knowin if she’s okay or not, but I ain’t got no way of sendin a message to her. All I can do is hope that she’ll find a way of sendin one to me. An that she’s somehow keepin outta the way of Miz Pinch’s hoof.

I’m well fed. I got my own cell an a cot with a blanket. Th’other mare fighters is all kept in one big cell together an have to bunk down on the cold ground at night. They don’t git no special treatment. Even the griffon watch captain, Mad Dog, keeps his distance from me. He’s called Mad Dog on account of the times when he’s so hopped up on chaal there’s no tellin what he
might do. An he does plenty. To the guards, to th’other fighters. But not to me. He don’t dare touch me.
So I eat what they give me, fight when they make me, an look fer my chance to git away. I’ll take any chance at all. A guard lookin th’other way. A door left open at the right time. Anythin. They can slam me in the Cooler all they like. I only gotta git lucky once.

In the still of night, I sit or pace my cell. I don’t sleep more’n a hour or two at a time. An that’s because the moment I shut my eyes, the darkness comes fer me. It slithers outta its hidin place to wrap me in its cold cold arms. It slides into my blood, my bones, my soul. It squeezes out all hope. If I let it in, I’ll never git outta here. I’ll stay an fight in the Cage till I start to lose. I’ll
stay till I die in the gauntlet. I’m afeared that, in the end, the darkness will turn out to be stronger’n the red hot.

The moment I shut my eyes, it comes.

The darkness comes.

The darkness an the dreams.

I’m in the Colosseum.

It’s silent. Empty. Dark. The dead time of night.

I’m in the Cage, it's cold, my tunic in rags. I rattle at the door, but it’s locked.

I’m trapped inside.

I feel a pricklin at the back of my neck. Slowly I turn. They all stand there.

Every mare an filly I ever fought. Every pony I beat an sent to the gauntlet.

Locked into the Cage with me. They ain’t nuthin but shadows, their faces in darkness, but I know them. Each an every one. The color of her eyes an coat, her cutie mark, the shape of her nose, how the fear smells on her skin.

They start movin, glidin towards me on silent hoofs.

Fergive me. I whisper it, say it, scream it—fergive me fergive me fergive me—but no sound comes outta my throat.

They’re on top of me now. They surround me. They pull me down.

Thick darkness, like a blanket.

Voices. Whisperin. Mutterin. Sighin. But far away, so’s I cain’t make out the words.

Then, "Moon! Moon, help me!'

Sun's voice. But when he was small. Penny’s age.

"Sun!" I call. "I’m here! I’m tryin to find you! Where are you?"

"I dunno! Hurry, Moon! It’s so dark. I … I’m frightened." He starts to cry.

"It’s okay, Sun!" I call. "I’m gonna find you! Keep talkin so I can find you!"

"I cain’t! I cain’t! Moon! They’re comin!"

He screams.

"Sun!" I yell. "Sun!"

Silence.

Then the voices agin. Closer now so I can hear what they’re sayin.

"Too late … too late … too late…"

"No," I whimper. "No! Please! Sun! I’m here! I’m comin!"

I drag myself outta the dream. I’m soaked with sweat. I sit up, my heart poundin. I wait. It always takes a couple of minutes fer me to come to, to git my breath back. My blanket’s all twisted an tangled with the chain on my right hind leg.
Every night I dream of Sun. I never see him. Only hear him. Sometimes he’s frightened an callin fer me, like tonight. Other times he’s angry, shoutin.

"Gawdam you, Moon, where are you? What’s takin you so long?"

But the worst dream is the one where he says my own words back to me.

"I’ll find you. Wherever they take you, I swear I’ll find you."

Over an over, never endin until I wake up an it stops.

Some nights I fall back to sleep after the dreams, other nights I lie awake an wait fer the dawn to creep into the cellblock. I roll my blanket unner my head, lie back an wait to see what it’s gonna be tonight.

"Was it a bad ’un this time?" A whisper from the cell next to mine. The one where they keep all th’other female fighters locked up together.

I don’t say nuthin. I don’t like to talk to them I fight or them I’m gonna hafta fight. An none of ’em talk to the Angel of Death. They’re afraid of me. I reckon it’s better that way. I know most of their voices though an I don’t recognize this one, so she must be new. A low, soft voice. Nice.

"I heard you last night too," she says. "An the night before. Ever since I came."

Now I know. They brought in a earth pony mare three nights ago. Tall an thin. A bit sickly lookin. Powder purple coat, a strange purple flower for a cutie mark. A few years older’n me, maybe twenny. She lost her first fight today. If she hears me, that means the rest of ’em can hear me too. It’s dangerous to let yer enemy see weakness. Weakness can git you killed.

Then, it’s like she sees inside my head. She says, "It’s okay. Nopony else knows. Jest me. I don’t sleep much."

I hear her shufle closer to the bars. I cain’t see her, not even her shape in the dark. The cellblock ain’t got no windows. It’s lit by torches durin the day an when night comes, it’s black as black.

"You lost today," I says. "I heard ’em talkin. They say you didn’t even try."

"I ain’t no fighter," she says, "not like you. The sooner I lose, the sooner it’s all over."

"You wanna die?" I says.

"I wanna be free," she says. "I ain’t never bin free. Not my whole life." She’s quiet fer a moment or two. Then she says, "D’you mind that they call you the Angel of Death?"

"No."

"The other girls’re afeared of you. They know that if they fight you, it’s the end."

I don’t say nuthin.

"My name’s Wysteria," she says.

"I’m Moon," I says.

"Moon." That’s a nice name.

I pull my blanket around me an lie down.

"G’night, Moon," she says. "Sweet dreams."

"G’night, Wysteria," I says.

An I sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Penny’s figgered out how to git herself into the cellblock to see me. She’s started to come in with the water carriers. They’re the grubby young colts an fillys who turn up first thing every mornin jest before dawn. They come with their buckets of fresh water an empty ’em into the troughs that run along the edge of the cells. Penny slips out to see me an is back at work with her morning chores before the Pinches wake up.

It’s Penny who whispers to me what’s goin on in Hopetown, who tells me how the place works an where everythin is. She’s tougher’n she used to be, that’s fer sure. You wouldn’t know her to be the same filly as left Silverlake that day. A couple of times she’s come in with a cut lip or bruise on her that shocked me, but fer the most part she manages to stay outta Miz Pinch’s way.

Penny. On her own in a hellhole like this. Somehow managin to fend fer herself.

Who’d of thought it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s bin four nights since Wysteria first spoke to me. Her an me talk a little bit every night now. I ain’t never bin much of a talker essept with Sun, an since I bin in this place I’m outta the habit of it even more.
But I like Wysteria. She’s about th’only person I met fer a long time who ain’t crazy. An she ain’t afeared of me. Says she won’t live long enough to meet me in the Cage, so what’s the point, we might as well be friends.
We always wait till th’other girls fall to sleep an the cellblock guards do their last check. They sit outside till their relief comes on at daybreak, so we’re safe once we hear the door slam shut an the bar slot into place.
Then I slide offa my cot. My leg chain’s long enough fer me to sit next to her on the cold floor, with the cage bars between us. The warmth of her body puts me in mind of how Sun an me used to sit, back to back, an how I could feel his heartbeat in my body, feel his breathin.

Wysteria lost her second fight today. She ain’t told me herself but I heard th’others talkin. We both know she ain’t got much time left. Now she says to me, "tell me what happened to yer brother."

So I do. I tell her what happened the day the Tonton came an killed Pa an took Sun away. It’s such a relief to talk about him, after him jest bein inside my head fer so long. When I git to the bit where they asked about Sun bein born at midwinter, I feel her go still. "Wait a minute," she says. "Midwinter. D’you remember what they said? Their ezzack words, I mean."

I don’t even hafta think before I answer her. The words is burned into my brain. I says, "The leader says to Dusty Tune, is this him? Hammer an slingshot flanks here? Is he the one born at midwinter? An Dusty Tune says yes an then the Tonton, he asks Sun how old he is. Sun says eighteen an then he asks him agin, was you born at midwinter. Sun says yes, an that’s when they took him."

"It’s like they came lookin fer him," says Wysteria. "Like they knew they’d find him at Silverlake."

I’m surprised she says it, jest like that. "That’s it," I says. "That’s it ezzackly."

"Was there anythin else?" she says.

"No, that’s about it. Oh, of course. Mercy says there was a stranger there when Sun got born, a stallion."

"A stallion. Who was he? D’you know his name?"

"Yeah. Trask. Mercy said he called hisself Trask. Said he got all excited when Sun came, said how he went on an on about how a colt born at midwinter was a wonderful thing. He kept sayin it over an over an nobody knew why an then he jest … disappeared. They never seen him agin."

"No," says Wysteria. "I don’t s’pose they did."

My heart slams aginst my ribs. I grab at her through the cage bars. Find her hoof an hold it tight in both of mine. "Wysteria, what is it? You know somethin. Tell me."

"I don’t want to," she says.

"Just say it," I says. "Say it quick."

"All right," she says. "Moon, Earthy Trask was my father."

I wish I could see her face. Look in her eyes an know if she’s tellin the truth. I squeeze her hoof hard. "Don’t lie to me," I says.

"I wouldn’t," she says, "I swear it’s the truth. Moon, yer brother is in great danger. It was the Tonton who took him all right."

"Is he here in Hopetown?"

"I don’t think so," she says. "No. I think they took him to a place called Freedom Fields."

"Where is it?" I says.

"North of here," she says. "Deep in the Black Mountains. It’s hard to git to. Hidden away."

"Freedom Fields," I says. "Sun’s at Freedom Fields. What else d’you know?"

"Listen, Moon," she says, "if he’s at Freedom Fields, that means the King’s got him."

"The King?" I says. "I ain’t never heard of him."

"Hopetown belongs to him," she says. "Hopetown an all the land around, as far as you care to go. Blaze’s his stallion. His second in command."

"What about the Cage Master?"

"He does what they tell him," she says. "There’s the King, there’s Blaze an there’s the Tonton who’re like his … his personal army. That’s who you gotta be afraid of."

"What else?" I says. "I need to know everythin."

"The King ain’t right in the head. None of ’em are. They believe strange things. Mad things. My father believed ’em too."

"Yer father," I says. "Earthy Trask."

"Yes. He was one of ’em. A Tonton, a spy fer the King. He’s dead now, but he was definitely the one at Silverlake that day. I was only little but I remember him comin back to Freedom Fields an how excited they all got when he said he’d found the one, he’d found the colt."

"Found what colt?" I says.

She’s silent.

"Wysteria!" I says.

"I don’t wanna tell you," she whispers.

"You’ve got to," I says. "Please, Wysteria. Go on."

"He said he’d found the colt, she says. The colt born to be killed at midsummer. Killed so the King will live."

My stummick twists. My breath tightens. "I … I don’t … unnerstand," I says. "What d’you mean … kill him so the King will live? What’re you talkin about?"

She starts to talk fast. Low, so’s we don’t disturb nopony. "It’s allabout chaal, Moon. You seen this place. Everypony here’s chewin it or smokin it. Mad Dog, the cellblock guards, everypony who comes to see us fight. An one person controls the chaal. He grows it, harvests it, an supplies it."

"The King," I says.

"That’s because there’s only one place with the right conditions to grow it. You need the right kinda earth, the right light, the right amount of rain."

"Freedom Fields," I says. "In the Black Mountains."

"The Tonton round ponies up, take ’em to Freedom Fields as slaves an force ’em to work in the fields."

"An they control ’em with chaal," I says.

"Now yer gittin the idea," she says.

"So the stallion who controls the chaal, controls everythin an everypony. He’s all powerful," I says.

"That’s the King," she says.

"But … I still don’t unnerstand," I says. "What’s all this gotta do with Sun?"

"Every six years, on midsummer’s eve, they sacrifice a young stallion. They kill him. An that stallion cain’t jest be any stallion. He’s gotta be eighteen year old an born at midwinter."

My coat stands on end. "Sun," I says.

"The King believes that when the stallion dies, that stallion’s spirit, his strength moves into him, it moves into the King. An his power’s renewed fer another six years."

"But that’s … crazy," I says.

"I told you," she says, "the King’s wrong in the head. But he believes it. An because he believes it, the rest of ’em do. It’s the chaal, Moon. Jest enough of it makes ponies dullwitted an slow an easy to control. Too much of it an they’re outta control, like the crowds in the Colosseum when a fighter runs the gauntlet. Like Mad Dog. Once they start on it, they cain’t stop. They don’t wanna stop."

"But sacrifice," I says. "I don’t believe it."

"I know how it sounds, but it’s true. I seen it myself. This midsummer’s eve it’s six years since the last sacrifice. Yer brother’s eighteen. He was born at midwinter. It’s his turn."

"An they knew about Sun because of yer father," I says.

"Yes. Like I said, he told ’em about Sun. After that, they kept watch on him over the years to make sure he didn’t come to no harm."

"Our neighbor," I says. "Dusty Tune. That’s what he meant when he said, I bin keepin a eye on him all this time."

"Don’t blame him, Moon, they would of forced him to do it."

"But why didn’t they take Sun when he was born?" I says. "Or later on? Why wait till now?"

"Because they need the stallion to have a strong spirit. An lettin him live with his family, livin in freedom, keeps his spirit strong."

"Sun’s strong as they come, I whisper.

"The stronger he is when he dies, the stronger the King will be. Listen Moon," she says, "it’s less’n a month to midsummer’s eve. If you wanna save yer brother, you gotta find a way of gittin outta here soon. You gotta—"

The cellblock door flies open an Mad Dog, the watch captain, comes in. He’s twirlin a long thick stick in his yellow claws, his grey feathers are dirty, same as his brown grey fur. He’s outta his head on chaal, all jittery an bright-eyed, laughin to hisself, beak clickin. The guards light his way with torches.

"How’s my mares tonight?" says Mad Dog.

The fighters in the main cell wake up right away. They’re on their hoofs, scuttlin into the shadows so’s he cain’t see ’em to pick on. I was back on my cot the moment the door flew open. He runs the stick along the cell bars.

"Wake up," he says. "Daddy wants to play."

"Wysteria," I says, "move!"

She’s froze with fear, still crouched down by the cell bars where we was talkin.

Mad Dog spots her.

"What’re you doin there?" He pushes his stick through the bars an pokes at her. "Come on out, you pretty little rat!"

She shrinks away.

"Leave her alone," I says.

"Oooh," he says. "He moves along to my cell an leers at me. If it ain’t the Angel of Death."

I stare at him. Let him see how much I hate him.

"You think yer somethin, don’t you?" he says. "I tell you, if it was up to Mad Dog, you’d be outside right now gittin a beatin you’d never ferget. That day will come. An when it does, you’ll be beggin me fer mercy. But not now. Yer the star attraction in Hopetown these days an Mad Dog don’t wanna git into trouble. But I’m bored. I wanna bit of fun."

He points at Wysteria. "Bring out the purple rat," he says.

He jerks his head an the guards unlock the main cage, push their way in through the mares. They haul Wysteria out.

"Wysteria!" I says. "Wait! Leave her alone!"

Mad Dog drags one of the guard’s chairs into the middle of the cellblock an sits on it backwards. His eyes spark with excitement an he’s startin to twitch. His claws, his shoulders, his paws. That means trouble.

"Let’s see," he says. "How about you sing me a song?"

"I dunno no songs," says Wysteria in a low voice.

"She don’t know no songs." Mad Dog looks all around, like he’s surprised. "Well, can you dance? Do me a little dance … rat. Go on, what’re you waitin fer? Dance."

Wysteria don’t move.

"I said dance, flower butt!"

"Leave her alone!" I says.

"Shut up, jest shut up! Gawdammit," he yells, "do I hafta do everythin myself?" He throws his chair aginst the wall an it smashes into bits. Then Mad Dog starts dancin. He twirls his stick, throws it in the air, dances around it, wings flutterin, tail swishin about. "See?" he says. "Look how easy it is! I’m dancin! Let’s everypony dance! C’mon!"

Wysteria’s stood there, stiff as stone, starin at him.

Suddenly he stops. "What’re you starin at, rat? I said … what’re you starin at?" He screams it at the top of his voice, the veins in his neck poppin out unner his feathers. He grabs her by the scruff with razor sharp claws an starts draggin her towards the door. I see blood start slowly seepin through her coat. She cries out in pain.

"Wysteria!" I scream. "Let her go, you bastard!" I leap at the cell door, fergettin my magics stopped by that damned horn ring an I’m chained to the cot an the cot’s fixed to the floor. I land face down but scramble up right away.

Mad Dog shoves Wysteria at the two cellblock guards. "Take the pretty purple rat outside," he says. They take her an hustle her outta the door.

"Wysteria!" I says. "No! Wysteria!"

Mad Dog’s unlockin the door of my cell. I scrabble back onto my cot, into the corner, an kick at him as he unchains me from the cot. He grabs me with his filthy claws, yanks me to my hoofs an outta my cell. He pulls up the metal trapdoor in the floor of the cellblock an shoves me down inside. "Sweet dreams, Angel," he says. Then he spits on me. He slams the door shut an I’m in the Cooler.

In the darker than dark.

The blacker than black.

I know I’ll never see Wysteria agin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mares in the cellblock stay silent. They don’t do much talkin to each other an sure as hell they don’t talk to me. They blame me fer Wysteria bein dead. They ain’t wrong at that. I blame myself. If she hadn’t of bin talkin to me, if I hadn’t
needed to know about Sun so bad, we would of bin more careful. Not talked so long.

We would of heard the guards an Mad Dog comin. If we had, Wysteria might still be alive. But not fer long. That’s the truth of it. Wysteria’s time was runnin out. Everypony knew it. She knew it. She was only waitin to lose her third fight. She was only waitin to die in the gauntlet. I seen what’s left of a pony after they run the gauntlet. At least she got spared that.
She’s free now. Like she wanted to be. But she lies heavy on my heart.

When I ain’t thinkin about Wysteria, I’m thinkin of how I’m gonna find a way outta here. Midsummer eve, she told me. I gotta git to a place called Freedom Fields in the Black Mountains by midsummer eve. Jest over three weeks from now.

So I watch. An I wait.

My chance is gonna come soon. I know it will. It must come.

It must.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stand in the middle of the Cage. Stare out at the crowd. They jump to their feet an roar fer me. I’m the biggest draw they ever had in Hopetown. They pack in when I’m fightin.
I look up through the top bars. Nero’s there, like always. Perched on top of the light tower that stands right next to the Cage. It ain’t carried light since Wrecker days, of course. Now all it carries is the people who clamber up to watch the fights from there.

The light tower’s the cheapest seats there is.

Essept nobody sits there when I’m fightin. Not with Nero perched on top. Everybody’s skeered of him. They all believe that crows bring death. Defeat. Destruction. They believe I git my powers from him.

I like to look up an see him there. He always stays till I win an then he flies off. He’s done it since my first fight.

But my power ain’t down to Nero. It’s down to the red hot. That’s what keeps me winnin.

There’s a mare in the front row today. Tall, gold furred, wearin a cloak.

She ain’t like most what comes to the Colosseum. Other ponies might not take no notice, but the moment I see her, I know her right off fer a warrior. She’s got a look about her. She takes things in with her quick eyes, things that other people’d jest pass over without noticin.
An she don’t take leaf from the chaal pony when he offers it. Not like everybody else who comes to the fights. Neether do the three mares with her take any.

In fact, they jostle him so’s his basket tips out an then they scuff all the chaal leaf unner their hoofs so they git all crushed an filthy. When a armed guard comes over to see what’s goin on, they pretend it warn’t nuthin to do with ’em.
She sees me lookin at her, watchin what they’re doin. Raises one eyebrow as if to say, what’s it to you anyways?

The cage door opens an my opponent enters to boos an jeers. She’s a tough-lookin, dark brown-stripped zebra with some sorta strange symbol for a cutie mark, name of Epona. She only arrived a couple of days ago. I ain’t never fought her before but the word is she fights dirty. The Cage allows pretty much anythin —hits, kicks, stranglin, twistin legs an arms— but not bitin or gougin. I heard she’ll try both if the cagekeepers ain’t got a clear view an she gits the chance. I’ll hafta watch her.

I put the girl in the front row outta my mind. I put everythin outta my mind. I clear it so the red hot can take over. That’s the way it’s gotta be if I wanna survive.

The keeper sounds the gong an we’re off.

Epona gits me in a stranglehold on the ground. While I’m strugglin to git free, I look up an there she is, the mare in the front row, starin right at me. Our eyes meet.

She’s tryin to tell me somethin. But what? What is it?

My concentration slips. Epona’s got advantage. She shufles us around, outta sight of the keeper, an bites me on the leg.

I roar with anger. The red hot kicks in an I’m back in the fight, full strength. I throw Epona offa me. I git her on the ground in a leg an arm twist. She moans. I twist harder.

Then even harder.

"Quit!" she yells. "Quit!"

Epona’s first loss. She glares hate at me as they take her from the Cage.

I look at the front row. The mare an her friends is gone.

Damn her. She nearly made me lose my fight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m in my transport cage on the back of the mulecart, bein driven back through Hopetown to the cellblock. Two armed guards sit up front an, like always, crowds surround the cart. Everyone wants to see the Angel of Death close up. The brave ones
reach in through the bars an try to touch me so’s they can brag to their friends later. I snap my teeth at ’em an they shrink away, shriekin with excitement.

The warrior mare pushes through till she’s close beside the cage. She’s about my height. She’s got a golden coat with tiny gold darker freckles sprinkled all over. She’s huddled inside her cloak, but I can see she’s got wings, an a curly mane the color of dark copper an eyes green as forest moss. She’s the most beautiful pony I ever seen.

"You nearly made me lose that fight," I says.

"I’m sorry you didn’t," she says. "That’s my girl you beat."

"Epona?" I says. "Whaddya mean, yer girl? Who are you?"

"I’m Gold Feather, but most call me Feath" she says, walkin alongside. "We’re the Free Hawks."

I look closer at who’s walkin beside the cart. Three tough-lookin mares, the ones who was sittin beside her in the Colosseum.

"Look around," says Feath.

I scan the crowd through the bars of my cage. Another mare in a robe. She moves it slightly so I can see the crossbow at her side. So they’re smart enough to smuggle weapons past the Gate guards of Hopetown. As I look over the crowd, another mare nods at me.

"So Epona’s a Free Hawk too," I says.

"She is," says Feath. "An we’re gonna git her outta here."

My heart skips a beat. "How?" I says.

"I’m workin on it," she says. "Security’s pretty tight here. But in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t git my fighter killed."

"The Free Hawks is fighters," I says.

"Warriors," she says, "like you. An occasional highway robbers."

"An you don’t want Epona to lose," I says.

"That’s right," she says.

"Well I don’t wanna lose eether," I says. "Losers go down to the gauntlet."

"That’s true," says Feath.

"Maybe we can help each other," I says.

"My thoughts ezzackly," she says.

Our eyes meet. "How do I know I can trust you?" I says.

She gives the nod to two mares standin next to one of the armed street guards. They move in on him. Suddenly a surprised look crosses his face. He starts to slump to the ground. They catch him an drag him back into a dark doorway. They step out agin an disappear into the crowd.

"You better not try that too often," I says. "Where’re you stayin?"

"We’re holed up in the northeast sector," she says. "There’s a empty shanty in a place called Spangled Alley."

"I’ll git word to you," I says. "I’ll send my sister. Her name’s Penny Rose."

"I’ll be waitin," she says.

Then she’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I ain’t seen Penny fer a good few days now. Not since Wysteria told me about Sun. Not since I spoke to Feath.

Every mornin, when the water carriers show up jest before dawn, I peer through the gloom of the cellblock to see if she’s with ’em. I started to ask one of ’em, a skinny little brown colt with scared red eyes, if he’d seen her, but he ran off the moment I opened my mouth to talk.

I’m startin to git worried. I need to see her. Make sure she’s all right. An I need to talk to her about Sun. About Feath an the Free Hawks. About my plan.

The cellblock door opens. The weak light of dawn trickles in. The guards light the wall torches as the water carriers shufle in an start emptyin their buckets into the troughs.

This time Penny’s with ’em. I let out my breath in relief as she makes her way over to my cell, carryin her heavy bucket carefully so’s it don’t slop too much. Nobody’s lookin our way. I go over to the trough, kneel down an start scoopin up
water, splashin it over my face, neck an hands while she pours it out slowly from her bucket.

"Where you bin all this time? I was gittin worried," I says.

"I couldn’t git away," says Penny Rose. "Miz Pinch had bad toothache the past few days. She warn’t sleepin like usual. It’s back to normal now."

"Are y’all right?"

"I’m fine. You look awful."

"I ain’t bin sleepin much eether," I says. "Listen, Pen, I found out where they took Lugh. It’s a place called Freedom Fields. An I met somebody who’s gonna help us git outta here."

Her eyes widen. "Really? Who?"

"Her name’s Gold Feather," I says. "I’m gonna need you to git a message to her."

"Okay," she says. "Where do I find her?"

"She’s stayin in a empty shanty in Spangled Alley," I says. "Northeast sector. D’you know it?"

"Yeah, I think so," she says.

"Good," I says. "All right, here’s what you need to—"

"Hey! Hey you! Filly!" A guard’s lookin our way, frownin.

"I better go," says Penny.

"Come back tomorrow fer the message," I says, "it’s important."

"I’ll be here. Oh!" she says. "I nearly fergot!"

She pulls somethin outta her cloak an gives it to me. A smooth pink stone. My heartstone that Miz Pinch stole from me.
She flashes me a big grin. "I took it when she warn’t lookin," she says.

"Thanks, Pen," I says. I shove it down inside my tunic, next to my heart.

"Filly! What’s takin so long over there?" The guard starts to head over to us.

"See you tomorrow, Moon." Penny picks up her bucket, ducks her head down an scuttles past the guard an outta the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cellblock guards lead me, chained at each hoof, into the female fighters’ exercise yard. Everypony’s here, they always are fer the evenin session.

I need to speak to Epona. Tell her about my plan. I take a quick look around. There she is, with a group of girls.

The Angel of Death don’t talk to nobody. That’s how I like it. So I cain’t jest walk over to her, it ’ud draw too much attention. I’ll hafta be careful about how I do this.

She looks my way an I catch her eye. Jerk my head a little bit, to tell her to come over, I wanna talk. Her eyes widen, but she gives me a nod. She’s smart. She’ll wait fer the right moment.

I stand while the guards unchain me so’s I can move about. The male fighters is in the exercise yard next to ours, Griffons in another. Now they start up like they always do when they see me.

They come crowdin up to the chainlink fence, makin kissin noises an callin out, "Help! It’s the Angel of Death! Save me!"

I used to glare at ’em, but it set ’em off even more. Now I jest ignore ’em.

There’s one, though, who don’t come to the fence. A unicorn, He leans in the corner of the stallion’s yard, chewin on a bit of twig like he ain’t got a care in the world.

I ain’t seen him before. He ain’t battered up like the rest of ’em, so he must be new. He ain’t even had his mane an tail shaved off yet.

Jest then, like he feels me watchin him, he stops what he’s doin. He lifts his head. Our eyes meet. He tosses the twig away, saunters up to the fence, leaning against it.

He don’t say a word. He jest runs his eyes slowly over my body, right down to my hoofs, then up agin. Th’other men whistle an jeer. I feel heat rushin through me. Feel it strain my chest, my neck, my cheeks. I know I must be bright red. Then he smiles. A lopsided, crook of a smile.

Cocky bastard. Who does he think he is?

So I do the same to him. I look him up an down.

Gold an brown mane to his shoulders an a long tail. Silver gray eyes with a hint of blue, an a tanned coat. High cheekbones. Lean but strong lookin. Like he knows how to take care of hisself. He's rather handsome. Our eyes meet agin.

"Like what you see, Angel?" he says.

I step to the fence. I lean in close. His cutie marks a bright blue star with a arrow through it. He smells of warm dust an sage.

"You ain’t my type," I says.

As I turn an walk away, one of the men calls out, "She sure told you, Arrow!"

I hear him laugh.

His name’s Arrow.

Heat burns into me. Crawls over my skin. A trickle of sweat runs down my chest. I pull out the heartstone tucked safe inside my tunic. It’s warm. No. Hot. That’s strange.

I look at the sky. The sun’s dyin in the west. The day should be coolin down.

But it feels like high noon. White hot.

Epona makes her way slowly in my direction. She does it so’s you wouldn’t notice unless you was lookin out fer it. At last she stops a little ways off from me. She sits down an starts tracin in the dirt with her hoof. I start with my usual exercises. Stretches first. Front an then hind legs.

"I talked to Feath," I says. I speak in a low voice, don’t look at her direct.

"I saw her at the fight today," she says.

"Looks like we’ll be workin together to git outta here," I says.

"Suits me," she says. "What’s the plan?"

"How many Hawks is there?" I says.

"Forty some odd, mostly zebras an Earth ponies" she says.

"Can Feath git ’em all here?" I says.

"Yeah," she says. "But they won’t all git through the Gate past the guards. That many mares an fillys ’ud make the Tonton suspicious, even if they came in smaller groups."

"Maybe they wouldn’t git suspicious if there was a lotta other people tryin to git in at the same time," I says.

"Go on," she says.

"I’m in the Cage agin in two days," I says. "I’m due to fight you. I plan to lose that fight. When ponies hear the Angel of Death’s on a losin streak, they’ll pack the place out. The Tonton won’t be able to keep track of who’s comin an who’s goin. They’ll pull most of the guards away from the cellblocks to help keep the crowds unner control."

She grins. A quick flash of white teeth, a dimple in her cheek. A completely different zebra. "I like the way you think," she says.

"I’m gonna lose aginst you three times," I says. "Then I’m gonna run the gauntlet."

She gives a low whistle.

"Oh, I got no intention of dyin," I says. "That’s where the Hawks come in. When I start to run that gauntlet, th’only ponies on eether side’s gonna be Free Hawks. They’ll pull me down all right, but only to help me disappear."

"I git it," says Epona. "It’ll take a little while fer everybody to figger out yer gone but when they do … all hell’s gonna break loose. That crowd ain’t gonna like bein cheated of the Angel’s blood."

"An while that’s goin on," I says, "you’ll be escapin from the Cage an …"

She looks around the yard, at the rest of the fighters.

"… the Hawks’ll be settin all of these free," she says. "Then we’ll burn Hopetown to the ground. You’ll help us, won’t you? You know this place an the guards better’n anypony."

"Of course I will," I says. I look her straight in the eye when I say it. Sun always says it’s the best thing to do when yer tellin a lie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Penny Rose manages to find Feath in Spangled Alley an tell her about my plan. Feath thinks it’ll work fine. She’s already sent fer the rest of the Hawks an, over the next few days, they’ll all be gittin ready.
She sent word back with Penny 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 Penny Rose 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 Pen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I lose to Epona.

I make it look good.

Real good.

I let my right hind hoof 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 stallion steps through the door.

I don’t believe it. It’s the unicorn stallion from Golden Pinch’s book. He stands in the doorway with his sword at his side. Jest like the picture in the book. Dark greycoat. Long thick black mane that looks like its flowin sorta. Strange crown an a big red cloak edged with fluffy white fur over his back so you cain't see his cutie mark. Metal armour over his legs an chest. His horn stands out a mile since it's red as blood, and his eyes are green an red an smokin purple. What was it Golden called him? Sombra. The King of the Crystal Empire. Dead fer hunnerds of years, he said. So it cain’t really be him. It’s somepony who looks like him.

He starts to walk down the cellblock, head high. He’s magically holdin a white lace keercheef to his nose. A small hooded unicorn mare walks close behind the King, her horn glowing. She must be makin his eyes all glowy an smoky like that. Most unicorns can only levitate things with magic an to light up dark places, like me, but a few have taken the time to learn spells that lot's of unicorns knew back in Wrecker times.

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, King Sombra" each one murmurs as he goes past.

A pony follows a little ways behind him. It’s Blaze. My heart clutches. No. Please. Not him. Right away, my body goes all tight.

After Blaze, 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 Sun. 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 Blaze.

The King stops in front of my cell. Blaze 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 Blaze. She grabs hold of my cell bars with her hoofs 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. "Ruby, I know this one! She’s the—"

His arm fly up. He smashes her in the face with his hoof.

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 mother of this stallion. The mother of the King. Ruby Pinch. But it all makes sense. The picture in Rooster’s book. The way Ruby Pinch looks. Why Golden Pinch lied when I asked him if he had any kids.

"How do you address your King?" says Ruby Pinch.

She don’t speak. Jest cowers there.

Then he screams it, spit flyin from his mouth. "How do you address your King?"

"Yer … Yer Majesty," she says. "I address my King as Yer Majesty, King Sombra."

"If you forget again," he says, "he will have you killed. Do you understand?"

She nods her head, grabs a corner of his cloak and kisses it. "Yes," she whispers. "All I wanna do is please … Yer Majesty, King Sombra. It’s all I ever wanted."

He kicks her hoof away. "Do not dare to touch your King!" he says. "Now. What were you saying about this mare?"

"Yer Majesty, King Sombra, I only said that … that I know her, Yer Majesty. She ain’t like the rest. Her spirit’s too strong to let her be beat. She lost today because she wanted to lose. She’s a sly one. She’s up to somethin. I know she must be." Miz Pinch glares hate at me.

"Enough!" He waves his keercheef an she scuttles off into a dark corner of the cellblock.

"The King will speak to her," says Ruby Pinch. "This … Angel of Death."

Blaze steps up to the cell. "Come here, girl," he says. "His Majesty, King Sombra wishes to speak to you."

It’s the first time I’ve heard his voice. It’s deep. Dark. Jest what I’d especk it to sound like.

"Come," he says.

I git to my hoofs, real slow. I take a couple of steps. Stop.

"Closer," he says.

I move. Then I’m right next to the cell bars. Right next to him. I don’t look up. But I feel him. The warmth of him. The cold of him.

"Moon," I think I hear him whisper.

A strange weakness grips me. I sway towards him. Grab at the bars to stop myself. Then he’s turnin away, he’s bowin to the King, he’s movin back into the shadows. Did he say my name? No … I must of imagined it.

Now Pinch steps up to my cell. His hoofs shoot out. Grab me through the bars. Grab me by the neck. His hoofs is strong. They press on my windpipe. Jest enough to make it hard to breathe.

"Is the old mare right?" he says. "Did you deliberately lose that fight?"

"No!" I says. "I didn’t! I wouldn’t!"

His grip tightens. I grab his wrists. Struggle to git free. He’s too strong. I drag in air through my nose, frantic. He stinks like nuthin I ever smelled before. Sour, sweet, rotten … all at the same time.

"Your King has made a long and arduous journey to see you fight," he says. "The miraculous warrior they’re all talking about, the Angel of Death. He would be vastly displeased to find that he was being deceived."

"I ain’t deceivin!"

"Last chance! Are you lying!"

"No!" I gasp. "Losin means death! Everypony knows that!"

"Indeed," he says. "Why would you lose on purpose? Why would anypony? It makes no sense."

Suddenly he lets go. I fall to the ground, gaspin, holdin my throat where he pressed on it.

"You’re imagining things, mare," he says to Miz Pinch. "You’ve had a good run. She’s made you a small fortune. You’ll just have to find yourself another fighter once this one’s run the gauntlet."

"I’m sure yer right, Yer Majesty, King Sombra," she says. "Yer always right, you always know best. I shouldn’t of bothered you. I’m sorry fer wastin yer time, Yer Majesty."

Miz Pinch, a cowed dog at her master’s heels.

Slowly I git to my hoofs.

"Wait!" Pinch grabs me. Hauls me aginst the cell bars. He presses a cold hoof on my cheekbone. Right on my birthmoon tattoo. He hisses in a breath. "What’s this?" he says.

"It’s a … tattoo," I says.

"The King can see that. Where did you get it?"

I think fast.

"Where I come from, everypony’s got ’em," I says.

"And where’s that?" he says.

"Out east," I says.

"East," he says. "I see."

He stares at me a long moment. He lets me go. He steps back an holds the kercheef to his nose agin.

"Blaze," he says, "the King will remove from this pestilent hole."

"Majesty," says Blaze an bows his head.

But not before I see it. The slight twitch of his lips. A flicker of somethin across his face.

He despises Ruby Pinch.

The Tonton bow the King out like they bowed him in. When they reach the cellblock door, Blaze lets Pinch an his mother go through first.

Then he turns back to look at me.

My breath catches in my throat. I drop my head. I mustn’t meet his eyes. I don’t dare.

Not even in the gloom of the cellblock.

I feel it when he leaves.

Somethin … lets go of me.

An I can breathe agin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The word’s out.

The Angel of Death’s goin down.

Hopetown’s packed. The scum crawl out from whatever rock they live unner to be there, to bet on the next two fights. The Cage Master’s only takin primo Wrecker junk as bets—coins, glass beads, gold rings, silver chains, things with old magic spells on em that can still be used … they bring what they got to him an he decides what it’s worth, if anythin.

Looks like the prospect of my death’s worth plenty. To him. To Miz Pinch. An to anypony in Hopetown with a flea-infested bed goin spare. Pen tells me they’re rentin beds out by the hour, not the night.

Right now the Cage Master’s givin even odds on me or Epona to win.

He ain’t bin to see me since that first day. When he told me he didn’t care if I lived or died. It’s true. We’re all the same to him. We’re all the same to all of ’em who come to see us fight.

While I’m waitin to go into the Cage, I look up to the Cage Master’s balcony. He’s there, along with Blaze an the King.

The King leans on the railin, starin down at me. He’s dressed all in a gold cloak today.

My birthmoon tatoo bothered him, that’s fer certain. It makes me believe that Wysteria was right, that he’s holdin Sun prisoner at Freedom Fields. He must of noticed Sun’s tattoo. I can only hope that he bought my story about how I came by mine.

I lose my fight, of course. That’s two fights down. One to go.

Tomorrow’s the day.