Etta

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Etta leaned back on the counter in the armoury. Her eyes fell onto a bow and set of arrows hanging just above the guard, Boore's, head. Relief flooded through her. It had to be a mistake, why the hell would they have allowed her to get that? They wouldn't have if they wanted her to lose. 

She pointed, her whole arm stretched right to the fingertips. 'That.' 

Boore turned round and reached for her saviour. 

Maybe she wasn't going to die. 

Maybe she could win.

But against Ruth? Ruth who deserved to kill her. 

She took the quiver and counted the arrows. Twelve. Just twelve arrows. She only needed one or two, but twelve could quickly become none. She couldn't afford to wimp out, or shoot randomly. She'd had to shoot to kill, put her mind out of it, pretend they were rubber and wouldn't hurt. She slung it over her shoulder, gripping the bow with her other hand. 

It felt different to her own. Heavier and bulkier, but it was all she had. She'd make it work. 

As she left the armoury, she passed a blindfolded Ruth. Other fighters weren't supposed to know what weapons each other had. She assumed Kendrick and Gemya already had theirs, and were just about to be sent out. She'd have to watch that one. The second fighters were usually made to watch the first ones close enough for the blood splatter to reach their faces. 

Etta felt a shiver lace through her spine. 

She couldn't bare to watch another child die. She hadn't watched a fight in so long, she'd forgotten what they were like. Forgotten the smell of blood.

Guards flanked either side of her but she walked forwards, ignoring them, and stepped into the Harena. She followed her feet to the Fighters' Circle, where she and Ruth would sit. Someone took her weapon from her before she sat and she tried to look as comfortable as possible. 

'Hey,' she said to the guard closest to her. 'Go and see what you can do about my boot situation.'

He took his helmet off and gave her a puzzled look. She pointed to her bare feet. 

'Hardly fair now, is it?' She rolled her eyes. He nodded and plodded away, which was surprising to her. She'd expected for him to tell her to piss off or something. 

Not two minutes later he returned with an extremely excited Margaux by his side. She squealed when she saw Etta. 

'Boots, darling? But of course!' 

Etta was starting to suspect her luck. 

Allowed a bow and arrows. 

Allowed boots. 

Surely something had to be up with that. 

Margaux disappeared for a few minutes. Etta's eyes rested back inside the ring, where nothing had happened yet. 

There were a few stewards walking through the crowds. It looked like they were selling food. Etta had no idea how anyone could eat in a place like that. Especially since sometimes, the fights were so violent that the blood splattered the front row. 

The fear of what she was about to witness snaked through her veins and into her lungs. Her chest tightened. 

Not now, not now, not now. 

She tried to shake it. 

Margaux appeared at the doorway, beckoning her over, and holding up a pair of old boots. Big black ones with scuffed toes. The buckles were still undone in places she'd unbuckled herself.