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I laugh. “Well, that’s not so bad.”
“What do I smell like?” Warrose opens his eyes, pulling away from my hair to give me a look that makes my thighs tremble.
I pause to think.
“A cow’s ass! Ha-ha!” Niles throws his head back and busts out laughing, eavesdropping again.
Warrose clenches his jaw, but Dessin steps up first.
“You are two seconds from being thrown off the stage,” Dessin hisses.
“By whom?!” Niles’s eyes go round.
“Me.”
“Shutting up, sir.”
The stage trembles as it opens rectangular gaps in the floor with thin metal planks stretched across their centers. We stare as the audience of soldiers rumble their feet in anticipation. The percussion fills my ears, making it hard for Warrose to focus on one thing.
The Ringmaster begins to yell in excitement.
“Feizëx! Feizëx! Feizëx! Feizëx!”
“What’re they saying?” Marilynn asks.
“Fire,” Dessin and I say at the same time.
And this time, Niles really does shut up. His face goes a sick shade of green.
“We’ll go first,” Warrose announces to the group, becoming more alert as we watch the pits fill up with molten lava, bright yellows and oranges swirling under the planks.
I jerk in his arms as tufts of gas and flames explode from the lava. Sentinels pour liquid into each rectangular pit, encouraging a blazing wall of fire that climbs to great heights, licking the sides of the planks.
“Oh, Warrose.” I hug him tighter, pressing my face against his warm chest.
“I want you to close your eyes until it’s over, okay?” He places a quick kiss on my forehead. “Keep your face against my chest.”
I nod and try to steady my quivering limbs. If anyone can do this, it’s Warrose. He’s a tank of a man who can obviously handle his liquor. And besides, it doesn’t look like they gave these inmates that much to drink. Our group seems fine.
Putting my thoughts to shame, the first prisoner steps up to the plank, slips, and immediately falls to his death. His limp body plunks into the lava and flames like a boulder being tossed in a lake.
“Shit,” I breathe, tucking my face against his chest once more.
Helga Bee and Gerta shuffle through the crowd, waving us down.
“Hey! Come on, you two need to get to the front!” Helga Bee bustles through the lines of inmates, throwing elbows to reach us.
“Why?” Warrose asks but doesn’t object as they place their hands on his back, pushing him forward.
“The longer you wait, the hotter the planks will get! Your feet will burn!”
Wait. The planks are metal. A conductor of heat. Oh, no. What about Niles? This is going to be hard enough for him as it is! I whip my head to search for Niles through the crowd.
“Niles!” I screech, raising my chin above Warrose’s bulky shoulder. “Niles! You have to get to the front of the line! Niles!”
“What’s wrong?” Helga Bee asks, pushing inmates aside to get us a spot in the front.
“You have to get our friends up here, too! Niles is a burn victim! Please!!”
