INDIGO

People jostled back and forth as I pushed through the thickly pressed bodies and made my way to the stairs. The stadium was humming with the excitement of ten thousand Streeters. 

Rubbing the temporary tattoo that the admissions officers gave me upon entrance, I looked up at the jumbo screens. They were crisp and clear, even through the visor. I huffed, looking up at the seated areas, and turned my attention to Wolf, who was right in front of me.

"Why couldn't we get a ticket in the seated area?" I asked, struggling to be heard over the crowd.

"There was no way Laine would've paid for a seating ticket for a task that might not even pay off," he shouted over his shoulder. "Besides, we won't be able to get out of the stadium quickly from up there."

I was half-expecting Nydia to shoot back a complaint, but then I remembered that she wasn't here. Wolf said she wasn't needed at the moment. Even when I asked her, she declined and quickly slipped back into her room. I had absolutely no idea what she was up to, and I wasn't sure that I wanted to know.

Sliding past a sweaty, middle-aged man, I followed Wolf up the first few steps of a set of empty stairs. They would lead up to the seated Streeter areas. A guard stood at the top in front of the door.

I used the empty space of the stairwell to take a deep breath. Wolf cast me a sideways smirk.

"What?" I asked.

"Just amused at your lack of versatility in a crowd."

I rolled my eyes and looked down at the empty, circular pit with large tunnels on either end. It didn't look like much, though I knew better than to judge it by its appearance. This was the national championship game, the one which drew members from all over the nation to watch, no matter how empty their wallets were.

"You still didn't tell me what we're doing here," I pointed out.

"I know."

He didn't say anything else, his light eyes watching the crowd as he leaned against the railing. He was starting to remind me of Xavier, a comparison that didn't sit well with me.

"Wolf Reznor!" a boy's name called out. I looked down to find a boy my age smiling up at us. A girl stood next to him, sharing the same ecstatic smile.

"He's finally got himself a girl!" the boy exclaimed turning to the girl next to him. "And it isn't you!"

The girl whacked his head and retorted, "At least I was a candidate. You were miming at his feet his whole life and got nowhere."

"Pining," Wolf corrected.

"No one cares, Wolf."

"You're just jealous, Mia."

Mia held up her middle finger.

"Man, I thought you would've been in the seated area by now," the boy said. "I would've stolen the ticket for myself."

"Jamie, you're not supposed to tell your friend that you're using them," Mia scolded.

"Wolf doesn't care. But seriously, why aren't you in the seated area yet?"

Wolf shrugged. "What can I say? Running a bakery isn't very stable."

"Don't you always tell us to save money?" Jamie asked.

"Yeah, and you still throw it away like we're the fucking Crowns," Mia scowled.

"I did save," Wolf responded. "Just a lot of things eating it all up before I can make more."

Jamie sighed. "Well, good luck man. You're gonna go places, and then I get to go places."

Mia scowled. "I'm getting the money first. I'm older. You can have the rest."

"You're only older by five minutes!"

"Still older."

They walked away, blending back into the throbbing crowd. I looked over at Wolf, inspecting him.

"You owned a bakery?"

"Own," Wolf corrected. "I still run it. Sell the best cakes in the city."

"You bake cakes in your free time?"

He looked at me, a wide smile forming. "How do you think I got Nydia to join?"

A baker and a rebel leader. I never thought the combo would work between two friends, forget in the same person. And how had I not noticed it? I didn't even know that he regularly left the base for hours at a time.

In the pit, a small square portion of the metal floor slid away and a man in a suit was pushed up to the platform. The announcer adjusted the microphone attached to his collar and smiled, opening his arms wide and looking at the crowd, before clearing his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the 97th Blood Battle Championship!"

The stadium roared, thousands of shouts and stomps echoing all around us. People threw paints up into the air to support their team and color washed over the stadium. The air was buzzing, the world around me finally alive. The blood rushed through my veins, my heart beating in my ears.

Wolf leaned close, his breath tickling my ear, as he asked, "Ever seen a Blood Battle before?"

I shook my head. "My father tried to take me, but mother always said no. But I've heard the stories."

He grinned. "I'll bet two dozen cakes that this will be better than any stories you've heard."

I scoffed. "You'll lose. My father was a great story-teller."

"We'll see."

Below, the announcer continued.

"We thank you all, for coming here today and we can't wait to see the biggest battle of the year! A quick show of gratitude to Assassins from both teams who have traveled here to watch the battle."

He gestured towards the very top where there was a large box with glass windows. The luxurious gold and blue setting was visible through the glass, highlighting the many figures lingering inside.

I was surprised to find the Streeters cheering their approval. I suppose the presence of Assassins was welcome when they were supporting your team.

I looked up at the jumbo screens just as they showed a close-up view of the Assassin Box and sucked in a breath. I could see the numerous couches and bars lined with screens playing a closer image of the pit, but that wasn't what caught my eye. In the corner, I could see a middle-aged couple with flashing red hair.

The Alderidges were here. Echo's parents were here.

They were talking to a middle-aged woman and a young boy, both with dark hair and pale skin. I tried to look closer to decipher who they were, but the jumbo screen flipped away before I could pin their facial features precisely.

It didn't matter who they were talking to. They were here.

The Alderidges supported me during the trial and took me in after my mother's imprisonment. They gave me a home when I had none and they were there for me. I would've drowned in my own sorrows and my own memories of that disastrous night if they weren't there to lend a hand.

And Echo. Despite everything she did that final year, I couldn't ignore how she was there when I needed her the most.

After everything they'd done, I neglected to send them any sort of message of my state every since I slipped off the grid. And now they were alone in their misery, their biological daughter dead and their adopted one missing.

I didn't realize Wolf was staring at me until he spoke, "The Alderidge family has been searching for you."

I turned to him and watched his unreadable gaze. "Even the remaining Cormacs joined them after they stopped grieving and realized that their son's last living friend was missing. They're probably even talking about you right now."

The Cormacs.

Echo's parents were talking to Axe's mother and brother. The last living memories of the people I lost were standing just across the stadium, only a short walk away. Could I go to them now?

"You can't communicate directly with them as it would pose a threat to the Rebels, but so would letting them search for you. If there was some way to get them to stop searching, I could possibly let it slide without telling Laine..." he trailed off.

I didn't respond, only looked back out at the pit weighing my options. What was I supposed to do?

Below the announcer finished his speech.

"And now, let the Blood Battles begin!"

The crowd roared once again as the announcer descended beneath the pit. There was a pause before the pit floor slid away to reveal murky depths beneath. A spindle pierced through the shadows. It continued to rise, pulling a black mass up with it. As I watched, I realized it was a circular tower emerging from the endless pit below and spinning up, climbing higher and higher, its metal sides clanking against each other as it rose. As it climbed, the circular base of the tower grew in width, the mass adding at twenty-foot intervals

Finally, the circular tower jerked to a stop, the mechanical base clicking into place like a gear fitting into its mold. I gasped and craned my neck up to catch a glimpse of the highest tip, which must've been taller than the open ceiling of the five-hundred-foot stadium itself.

From the darkness of the pit, another structure emerged. Six contestants rose from the darkness, spread evenly around the base of the tower, each standing on their own circular platform. The circular platforms had a single narrow pathway leading to the edges of the tower. The contestants waved at the crowd, their team colors on full display. Three wore a dark blue bodysuit and the other three wore green.

The crowd cheered for their respective teams, holding up signs with encouragement and marriage proposals. The now unseen announcer's voice echoed through the speakers as he rattled off the names of each contestant.

Wolf leaned close to my ear and spoke, "Do you know how the Blood Battles work?"

I nodded, but he continued to give me an explanation. "The teams are split into people with different tasks. These are the Climbers, and next, there would be the Racers, and so on. With each test, the contestants earn their respective points based on their performance. The Final Battle, a sparring match between the only Lower Assassin on each team, usually earns the most points for the winner. The team with the most points wins."

"I know that, but how are the Streeters not against the Assassin?"

"They're bringing glory to their team and they're fighting for the Streeters. Plus, they don't kill the other contestant. It's only a battle until surrender or time's up. It's the Streeter's way of insulting more murderous Assassins—showing them that they can fight battles and make a point without killing. Since the Lower Assassins they choose are representing the cause, they don't mind."

I didn't realize I was rubbing my scar until Wolf's gaze shifted toward my neck. I dropped my arm and looked back down at the pit.

If the Streeters accepted the Assassins because they weren't killing and were helping them, then why couldn't the Rebels accept me when I did just that?

Almost as an afterthought, Wolf added, "And they don't shy away from who they are. The Assassin contestants are Assassins and they pride themselves in it. Their skills are what earned them a spot on the team and made them lead the biggest sparring match of the year. They are Assassins and the Streeters learn to respect them for it."

I opened my mouth, about to ask him a question, but was cut off when the announcer shouted and the volume in the stadium rose. The contestants in the pit crouched down into a low running pose, ready to scale up the mountainous, jagged tower. They would get points for every level they climbed and the first three to reach the top would get extra points.

The announcer started counting down. "Round one. Three, two, one! Go!"

The contestants ran forward, flying across the pathway to reach the tower. Before the fastest contestant could reach the base, the tower shook. The smooth walls slid away and were replaced with all sorts of obstacles.

Spindles sprung out of the wall and swung around the tower like a chariot wheel, threatening to throw anyone who approached off. Liquid oozed from the top and hissed as it slid down the sides. Parts of the tower completed disconnected and fell away into the murky pit, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the tower which revealed the gears and mechanics inside but did nothing to aid the approaching contestants. Near the top, guns sprung out and angled down, ready to fire. And this was only the beginning.

I could hardly stop myself from whispering, "Wow." Beside me, Wolf smirked as if he created the entire thing himself. Why do I always end up interacting with the arrogant ones?

"They shoot the contestants?" I asked Wolf.

He shook his head. "The guns are filled with pellets instead of real bullets, just like in Evandor Prep's games. The acid burns like a bitch, but it's fairly easy to heal. And, you can't really see it now, but there are nets at the base which rise as the contestants climb higher."

Below, the contestants launched themselves onto the tower and struggled as they maneuvered themselves around the numerous obstacles. 

"So none of the contestants die? Not even by accident?"

Wolf shook his head. "Remember what I said earlier? The whole point of the Blood Battles is to show that the Streeters can be strong and defend themselves without killing. It's sort of the Streeters trying to brag to the Assassins. In all of the 97 years of Blood Battles, only two have ever died in the stadium."

He looked down at me. "Can Evandor Prep say the same thing?"

"I'm sure the accidental death count was relatively low."

I wasn't sure why I was defending them, but I couldn't back down now.

"I wonder when 387 dead teenagers became a relatively low number," he asked in mock thought.

"You can't be serious."

"Dead serious. Since when was that considered low?"

I blinked. "387 dead? And all only by accident?"

"Yep. I believe there were five added in just the past year, not accounting for the intentional murders."

"And you just happened to have that precise number memorized?"

"Well, five isn't a hard number to memorize," he responded giving a cheeky smile.

I glared. "You know what I'm talking about."

"I know plenty of things, Fluor. Especially about my enemies."

I didn't like the way he called me by my last name as my former fake friends did, but I suppose it was quite common.

I shook my head and watched the contestants climb up the tower as new obstacles were revealed. The nets were now visible and rising.

A portion of the wall shredded away just as a contestant held onto it. A collective gasp scattered through the stadium as the contestant fell and bounced onto the net. The point chart replaced the contestant's thirty points with a discouraging zero. The net he fell on lowered and she climbed onto the pathway once they reached the base. Immediately, she sprung back onto the tower, starting over.

"It's time," Wolf whispered as he checked a nice watch. The playfulness was gone and replaced by the serious, calculating, boy leader of the Rebels.

"For what?"

He handed me a piece of paper. "One of our spies intercepted a message being secretly delivered to someone they suspected to be a hitman for hire. The spy copied the message down word for word and let the original reach its original destination."

I unfolded the paper and skimmed it. A Raven, whose name was never specified, wanted to meet with the hitman. It was supposed to take place in five minutes in one of the back halls of the stadium. No one would wonder why two people out of the hundreds of thousands of watchers were talking to each other, and anyone on their tail would have a hard time keeping track of them in a crowd so thick and a stadium so large.

"Your job is to track this meeting down and listen in," Wolf continued. "It could be nothing, but we have to be certain. And whatever you do, do not engage. We don't want either party knowing we're tracking them."

I pointed at the specific location listed. "I don't even know where this is and this stadium is way too large."

"You better get going then," he replied, his wolf-like eyes giving away no information.

I gave him a glare and descended the steps, reentering the thick crowd.

After a moment, he added, "I would start looking on the other end of the stadium, in the hallways behind the middle portion of the seated area."

That narrowed it down a little, but that still left five floors to search. Cursing, I shoved through the thick crowd as fast as possible. Shouting and sweating bodies pushed against me, making it hard to breathe.

I gasped, trying to find more air, but I was only jostled around in the torrent of Streeters. For a terrifying moment, my mind flashed back to the murky depths of the lake when I cried for air as my mother's hand held my head down in the water. I shook the thoughts away and pushed through the crowd harder, not caring if I threw others off balance.

Finally, I reached a door and burst through it entering a nearly empty hall. I gathered my breath for a second and blended in with the shadows, ready to finally do what I was trained to.

The next chapter will also be Indigo's because it was supposed to be part of this one, but the chapter was getting abnormally long and I had to split it.

Also, I'm really sorry about updating so late. A few of you guys saw my announcement on Friday when I said I had to push the update back to today. I'm really sorry. Life and school have been hectic and I couldn't finish it when I intended. I feel terrible because you guys have been so supportive and are just flat-out amazing.

I hope I can make it up to you guys.

And, a quick note in case you guys removed School of the Crown Assassins from your library: I have posted a few bonus chapters there and there'll be more to come, so stay tuned!

~Sreenija Paruchuri, Queen of Psychos