Chapter 76 After the Pit

The door creaked. Patrona came in first, shouldering weight that wasn’t hers. Kai followed a half step behind, feet dragging, his grip loose on the splintered staff. Blood had dried on his arms and chest in dark lines. Sand stuck to everything.

Revoli stood up from the hearth. She had been awake the whole time, waiting. Her mouth opened, but no words came. She moved instead.

Cherish crossed the room faster. She shoved a stool away with her hip and took Kai’s other arm. “Sit him down before he tips over,” she said, voice sharp from worry.

Patrona guided him to the bench along the wall. He lowered himself slow. The staff slid from his hand and hit the floor. He didn’t look at it.

Revoli hovered close, hands half-raised, not sure where to touch. She hated that about herself. The wanting and the freezing. She stood there anyway.

Patrona knelt and cut cloth into strips. She didn’t ask. She worked. She wrapped his forearm tight where a bite had torn skin. She pressed a rag to his ribs where a purple bloom had started. Her fingers were steady. Every time he swayed, her shoulder met his and kept him upright.

Kai stared at nothing. His breath came rough but even. He didn’t flinch at the sting. He didn’t say he was fine. He let them do what needed doing.

Cherish brought a basin and poured water. Steam rose faint from the warm bucket she’d kept near the coals. She set bread and sliced meat on the table and then leaned across Kai to press a wet cloth to his temple. The line of her body brushed his shoulder. “Drink,” she said, holding a cup to his hand. “Eat. I’m not scraping you off this floor tomorrow.”

He took the cup and drained it. “Thanks,” he said. He didn’t look at her the way most men did. He didn’t look at all. He reached for the bread because she put it in his hand.

Cherish glanced at Revoli over his head. A small smile tugged at her mouth. She leaned in again, closer, as if to test him. Nothing. Kai chewed and watched the wall.

Revoli felt heat in her face. She wished she could be that bold. She also saw it didn’t matter with him. He was somewhere else. The arena was still on him.

Patrona tied the last knot and sat beside him on the bench. Their shoulders touched. She didn’t move away. Her hand settled on his forearm and stayed there. He let out a breath he’d been holding without knowing it. It was the first sign he felt anything in the room.

“How many?” Cherish asked. She meant fights, not wounds.

“Too many,” Patrona said. Her voice was low. “He kept opening gates.”

Kai swallowed the bread, reached for the water again. “Coins?” he asked, rough.

Patrona shook her head. “Not enough.”

“They’re stringing you along,” Cherish said. She didn’t soften it. “He’ll dangle Elijah’s girls until the crowd gets bored of watching you bleed.”

Kai’s jaw worked. He stared at the floor. “We keep going,” he said. “Until it’s enough.”

“It won’t be,” Cherish said. “Not the way he plays it.”

Patrona’s hand squeezed his arm once. “Then we make him change the game.”

Revoli brought more cloth without being asked. She set it within Patrona’s reach and stepped back again. Her fingers itched to help. She hated that she waited on permission that never came.

Kai reached for the meat. His hand trembled once and steadied. “Elijah?” he asked.

“Not here,” Cherish said. “Armsmen took him to the holding cells near the main hall. The girls went to registration.”

Revoli’s throat tightened. “How long until they… until—”

“Fast,” Cherish said. “Faster if someone pays to move them up.”

Kai stared at the empty air for a long second. Then he chewed, swallowed, and said, “Tomorrow.”

Patrona looked at him. “You won’t be able to stand tomorrow if you don’t sleep now.”

He met her eyes like he was searching for something he couldn’t name. “Stay,” he said. It wasn’t an order. It wasn’t a plea. It was a simple word that sat heavy between them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

Cherish fetched a clean shirt and set it on the bench. “Arms up,” she said.

Kai lifted his arms. It hurt. He did it anyway. Cherish pulled the shirt over his head and made a point of brushing close as she tugged it down. “You’re a mess,” she said, softer now.

“I know,” he said.

She smiled a little and shook her head. “You really don’t.”

Patrona slid off the bench to gather his staff. The crack near the middle had spidered wider. “This won’t hold,” she said, turning it in her hands.

“I’ll make him another,” Cherish said. “A real one. Not tonight.” She jerked her chin toward a folded blanket. “Lay him back.”

Patrona eased him down until his shoulders hit the wall and his legs stretched out. He closed his eyes and opened them again like he didn’t trust sleep. She took his hand. He didn’t pull away.

Revoli carried the basin out and came back with another. She set it down quiet and knelt to gather the blood-streaked cloth. “I can take first watch,” she said. It came out too quick, like a student in a room full of masters.

Cherish nodded. “Good. Wake me if he starts shivering.” She moved around the space, blowing out two lamps, leaving one low flame and the dull orange from the covered coals.

Patrona didn’t let go of his hand. She watched his face like it would tell her if he slipped. He blinked slower each time until the blinks turned into long breaths.

“What did he make you fight?” Revoli asked. She didn’t look up as she spoke. She folded cloth into a neat stack that would be washed later.

“Everything,” Patrona said. “Hounds. A man in a collar. Demons. A thing with four arms and chains.” She paused. “He keeps pushing to see where we crack.”

“Do you?” Revoli asked.

Patrona’s thumb moved once over the back of Kai’s hand. “Not while he’s beside me.”

Revoli swallowed. “I’m glad it’s you in there with him.”

Patrona looked over. The look wasn’t sharp. It was tired, honest. “I know you want to be there too.”

Revoli nodded. “I do.”

“You will be,” Patrona said. “When it’s right.”

Revoli didn’t trust her voice, so she nodded again. She picked a loose thread from the cloth and rolled it small between her fingers.

Cherish leaned against the doorframe and watched them all. Her eyes were softer now, the edges of her mouth not as sharp. “You two need to eat something warm,” she said. “I’ll heat broth.” She caught herself and shook her head. “No. The forge is dead. Bread and water will do.”

“We’re fine,” Patrona said.

“You’re not,” Cherish said. “But you will be.” She crossed to the table and tore off a piece of bread for herself, chewing slow. Her gaze slid to Kai. “He doesn’t notice,” she said, like she was testing the shape of the words. “Not me. Not like that.”

Patrona didn’t answer.

Revoli did. “He doesn’t see that kind of thing.”

“Ever?” Cherish asked.

Revoli’s mouth twisted. “Maybe once. Not now.”

Cherish’s eyes went to Patrona’s hand on his. “He sees something,” she said.

Patrona didn’t move. “He feels something,” she said. “That’s enough.”

They fell quiet. The room breathed. A cart rolled far off down the lane. Somewhere a door thumped and a voice mumbled. Gildenreach slept ugly.

Kai’s grip shifted in his sleep, fingers tightening around Patrona’s hand for a heartbeat, then easing. Her mouth pulled into the ghost of a smile she didn’t show to anyone else. She didn’t look up to see if either of them noticed.

Revoli noticed. It hurt in a clean way. Not like a cut. Like a pulled muscle that would get stronger if she kept using it. She pulled a blanket over Kai’s legs and smoothed it once. Her hand stopped short of his knee. She let it hover there for a breath and then took it back.

“Tomorrow,” Kai said, eyes still closed. The word came out like he’d been talking in a dream and found the end of it.

Revoli looked at Patrona.

“He’s not awake,” Patrona said, quiet.

“Tomorrow what?” Cherish asked.

“Back to the pit,” Patrona said. “Back to the hall. Back to the man who thinks collars make men.”

Revoli sat on the floor with her back to the wall and drew her knees up. “What if he never lets them go?”

“Then we stop asking,” Patrona said.

Cherish’s mouth quirked. “There she is.”

Revoli rested her chin on her knees. “I’ll wake you in two hours,” she said to Patrona.

“I’m not sleeping,” Patrona said.

“You will,” Cherish said, no room left for argument. “You both will. I’ll take an hour after Revoli. If anything moves near this door, I’ll feel it in my bones.”

Patrona’s eyes stayed on Kai. “I’ll sleep when he does.”

“He already is,” Cherish said.

They let the quiet settle. The last lamp burned low. The coals dimmed to a dull heart.

Revoli’s mind ran anyway. She pictured the stands, the gates, the way Kai stood when he faced something bigger than him. She pictured Patrona at his shoulder. She pictured herself somewhere in that space, not behind them, not dragged along, but standing with them. Not tonight. Another night.

Cherish shifted her weight and rolled her shoulders out of habit, like the ghost of a hammer still sat there. “When the sun’s up, I’ll ask around,” she said. “Enzo’s boys drink. They talk. They’ll say more to me than they will to you. I’ll listen.”

“Careful,” Patrona said.

“I’m always careful,” Cherish said, which was not true, but tonight she meant it.

Kai’s breathing deepened. The lines around his eyes eased. He looked younger like that. Not young. Just less worn.

Revoli watched him and thought of all the things she wanted to tell him. That she was here. That she would help him carry whatever he was carrying. That she would make him laugh when it was safe to laugh again. None of it would matter now. He was asleep. She tucked those words away and kept watch instead.

Time slowed down. It didn’t stop.

Patrona’s head tipped forward and bumped his shoulder. She jerked awake, then relaxed when she felt his hand still in hers. She let her head rest there this time. Her eyes closed and opened and closed again.

“Sleep,” Cherish murmured from the doorway.

Patrona didn’t answer. She slept.

Revoli stood, moved quiet, and pulled another blanket over both of them. She lifted Kai’s broken staff from the floor and set it upright in the corner like a promise. The crack down the middle looked worse in the lamplight.

“I’ll fix it,” Cherish said.

Revoli nodded. “He’ll need it.”

“He needs a lot of things,” Cherish said. “We’ll start with wood and steel.”

They fell quiet again. A thin gray showed at the edge of the shutter. Morning was thinking about the street but hadn’t said yes yet.

Revoli sat back down. Her eyes stayed open. Her chest eased a little. She could wait. She would wait. Not forever. Just long enough to know where she needed to stand when the next gate opened.

Kai shifted once and found Patrona’s hand again even in sleep. Revoli saw it and didn’t look away.

The safehouse held. The city outside kept its secrets. The forge stayed cold.

They would light it later. Not now.

Now they rested, because tomorrow had teeth.