Tonglong and AnGangseh stood, and attendants brought chairs for them to sit at the Emperor's table. LaoShu stepped to the pit's edge and made an announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are not going to believe who just joined us! Please help me in extending a hearty welcome to yet another former Fight Club Grand Champion—Tonglong, the Mantis!”

Tonglong bowed to the crowd, and the people responded with a rousing round of cheers and applause.

Hok glanced at Seh. He was grinding his teeth.

The crowd began to calm down, and LaoShu spoke.

“Let's get back to the action, shall we? How about that last bout? That kid sure packs a punch! It was over a little too quickly for my taste, though. Perhaps this next one will go a little longer and be a bit more … colorful. That color being blood-red, of course! Put your hands together for a battle-hardened veteran. He's returning to the pit for the tenth consecutive year to try his luck at the championship one last time. Because we'd all like to see him achieve his goal, we've given him a few pointers, so to speak. Scar!”

The crowd cheered and several people stood as a large man rushed through the tunnel doorway. Hok thought he looked to be close to forty years old. He had thick scars up and down his hairy arms, and a long thin one across his pimpled neck. His hair was tied up in some sort of knot, and he held a spear in each hand. In his yellow crooked teeth was a long knife.

“Look at all those weapons!” Charles said. “Are you sure you don't want to bet, Seh? I don't see how that guy can lose.”

“You don't even know who his opponent is,” Seh said. “Stop pestering me. Don't you have any money with you?”

“I do have a few coins,” Charles said. “It's not much, but I suppose I could bet them—”

“You had better hurry up, then,” Hok said.

Charles stood and raced over to the bettors’ table.

Hok sighed and leaned toward Seh. “I don't understand why he is so excited about wagering.”

Seh shrugged.

“Guards, bring in the challenger!” LaoShu shouted. “It's time for a little monkey business!”

Hok gripped Seh's arm and looked toward the pit doorway. She saw the two guards throw Malao through it. Normally Malao would have landed in a tight tuck and roll. This time, however, he hit the brick floor like a tomato dropped from a treetop. The crowd roared with laughter.

“Was that Malao?” Seh said.

“Yes,” Hok replied. “Something's wrong.”

Hok watched Malao stand on wobbly knees and shake his head like he was trying to clear it. He looked around, wide-eyed. It was obvious that Malao had no idea where he was.

“Malao has been drugged!” Hok whispered. “I was in that same state of mind not too long ago. I recognize the signs. I would fade in and out of consciousness without warning. Malao won't be able to fight in that condition. We have to do something!”

“Are the two guards Charles mentioned still down there?” Seh asked.

“Yes—” Hok said.

“What about the soldiers?” Seh asked.

Hok glanced across the pit. “Still there.”

Seh clenched his fists. “Unfortunately, there isn't anything we can do right now. Let's wait and see how Malao does.”

“Seh,” Hok said, “Malao's opponent is holding two spears and a dagger. His name is Scar. He's seen his share of blade fights. Malao is weaponless—”

“Unless you want to borrow Charles’ qiangs and jump into the pit, I don't know what else we can do,” Seh said. “Speaking of Charles, where is he?”

Hok glanced at the mob of people still crowded around the bettors’ table. She couldn't see Charles.

“I don't know where he is,” Hok said.

The gong sounded and Malao shrieked. Hok looked down in time to see Scar launch a spear at Malao.

Hok held her breath, then relaxed as Malao sprawled to the floor, narrowly avoiding the spear's glistening metal tip. Before he could get back up, though, Scar launched his other spear.

Malao shrieked again and rolled clumsily to one side. The second spear grazed his shoulder before rattling off the wall of the pit.

Malao howled and Hok saw a dark circle forming through his crimson robe.

“Malao is hurt!” Hok whispered to Seh. “Scar grazed his shoulder with a spear.”

“He'll be okay,” Seh said. “He's a clever fighter.”

“If anything else happens to him,” Hok said, “I'm going to help.”

Seh didn't reply.

Hok watched Malao curl into a tight ball and begin to shiver, his eyes closed. The drugs definitely seemed to be controlling him.

Scar took the knife from his teeth and raised it up. He began to walk slowly toward Malao.




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