Call to Arms (The Girl In The Arena Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

here blubberguts.”
    “Leave him alone,” Reena said.  
    “You will have to face him in Arena you know. All of us, actually.” The girl prodded the robed man with her bare foot, “Hey, do me a favor and run for the lions so I have one less to worry about.”
    “Stop it!” Reena yelled.
    The whole cart fell silent. Liam patted her back, tears squeezed out from her eyes and she had to lower her head so the other girl would not see her cry. If she sensed any weakness at all she would go after her, and while Reena did not like what she said, she knew it was true.
    In the Arena there was only one outcome for Outlaws and criminals—death. Upon rare occasions the Governor would spare a life, but that was based on his whims. If the other girl succeeded in surviving the tigers and other beasts as well as the other people in the cart he might spare her life.
    Would he spare an Outlaw? Probably not. She closed her eyes, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Before it could the cart came to a halt and  the door was yanked back open. Her impressions of everything was vague: soaring building with the gods and goddesses dancing in the niches carved to hold them, the distant roar of the crowd, the sound of metal meeting metal and songs being sung.
    She was hurried down a long hallway that reeked of sickness and blood, the catacombs beyond were dim and filled with people, many of them sobbing or screaming. A guard shoved her toward a small room where other women and girls huddled. There were only four of them total, including herself and the girl from the wagon.
    “What do we do now?” Reena asked but the guard did not answer.
    “We wait to die.” The woman who said it was pale and filthy, her hair hung in limp straggling threads to her torn robes.
    The cart girl looked down at the dirt floor, shrugged and lifted her head again. She had clear blue grey eyes, and under the dirt, hair that was a pale and pretty silver. “I’m Nemia. Who are you?”
    “Reena,” her mouth was terribly dry and she wanted to cry. To scream, to run away as fast as her legs would carry her. None of those things were possible. She was going to die there.
    “I’m not keen on waiting to die,” Nemia observed.
    “What else can we do?”
    Nemia slanted a look at her and then she smiled. “I thought you Outlaws were tough and ready to fight to be free.”
    That made Reena angry. Her scalp prickled and her fists balled, “We are. We live free and we accept that the price for that is death.”
    “It seems to me you would be more intent on staying alive and living free than dying for a notion.”
    “It is not a notion!”
    ‘Until all people are free nobody is free,” Nemia said flatly. “That is where Outlaws go wrong. Instead of isolating yourselves into tiny groups and fighting for individual freedom you should be fighting for freedom as a whole.”
    Reena’s mouth fell open. She had heard those words before. Her own father had said them, more times than she could count. Who was this girl that she shared Liam’s thoughts so closely?
    The guards came and indicated that it was time. They stood, Reena still feeling faint. Liam was ahead of her; she could see his hair and the familiar shape of his body but she could not reach him. She saw him turn his head slightly and scan the area, looking for her without seeming to. He must be worried that someone would kill her to anger him in battle, or kill her just to cause his mind to be less clear.
    Time slowed to a mere crawl. The tunnel’s mouth stood ahead, a beacon of light in the dimness. Her belly ached and then they were out of the tunnel.
    The harsh strong sunlight made her blink. Her vision blurred and doubled and she realized she was weeping silently. The crowd was on its feet, screaming and cheering and throwing things into the arena, tiny bouquets of herbs and flowers and silk bands; favors for those about to be dead. Even that struck her as ironic: she had never known the touch of silk in her