The boats were chained together, but the links were too narrow for a bridge. The only way forward was a three-foot leap.
I steadied myself and noticed the rainbow sheen floating across the surface of the water. Oil. Was it runoff from the mechanics driving this man-made river?
I jumped to the next boat and landed cleanly, but the audience didn’t care. They’d already become bored with the challenge, their booing growing louder.
But then the flames came.
Fire erupted, racing across the oily surface until the circle was complete. Some kind of accelerant was being pumped into the river. The water itself had become fire.
That appeased the crowd, and their boos turned into cheers, a roar so loud it rattled in my chest.
Flames licked up the sides of the wooden boats. It was only a matter of time before they were engulfed. Sitting still wasn’t an option anymore. We had to keep moving.
Then the current surged, whipping the boats faster and faster as the crowd stomped and screamed for more.
Burn! Burn! Burn!
The chant rolled through the arena, deafening. The only thing they wanted was to see us roasted alive. No one stood still anymore. We were all moving. It was either that or burn to death.
Just as I found my rhythm, leaping from boat to boat, the crowd’s roar swelled to a frenzy. I glanced up and froze.
High above, spectators clustered around what looked like a giant chopstick. It was as thick as a battering ram, the kind you’d swing to smash down a castle gate. It dangled from a chain fixed to a track running across the arena ceiling.
Then they let it go.
The chopstick swung down fast, cutting across the path of the boats, close enough to sweep a Blade clear. And it wasn’t the only one. Three more chopsticks hung ready, each aimed at different stretches of the river. The audience held the ropes, timing their release, their laughter and shrieks making it clear—our lives had become their game.
Ahead of Kubikiri, Hone Giri taunted him for his huge belly, drawing laughs from the crowd.
One of the chopsticks came swinging down. At the last second, Hone dropped flat, the ram whistling inches above his head. He sprang back up, laughing and pointing at Kubikiri, shouting that he was too fat to ever dodge something like that.
But Hone forgot one thing—the chopstick still had to swing back.
It screamed through the air with the same brutal force, catching him full on. His body burst apart like an overripe melon, spraying the crowd with gore. Flesh and blood splattered across the front rows, and the arena erupted into chaos.
The audience had done it—they’d landed a hit. And the frenzy that followed was deafening.
I was in shock. One second Hone was there on the boat; the next, he was gone, obliterated. My stomach lurched at the sight of the crowd, cheering like savages at the spray of his blood.
I turned just in time.
A chopstick came screaming straight for me. I dropped flat as the ram whooshed past, the gust blowing my hair to the side. My chest slammed the deck, heart hammering. I’d almost been crushed because I couldn’t tear my eyes away from what had happened to Hone.
As soon as the chopstick swung past, I sprang to my feet. The boat beneath me was already burning, flames chewing through its sides. I’d made it more than halfway around the river; a long stretch remained, and each boat was still at risk of going up in flames before I ever reached it.
All around, the others scrambled to leap as fast as they dared, trying to outrun the fire and avoid the swinging chopsticks.
Sumi Yari had nearly closed the gap, only a boat behind. His spear was leveled at me, and there was no doubt what he meant to do—knock me clean into the flaming water. My bag of rice felt heavier by the second, dragging at my arms.
A roar from the crowd snapped my attention to Ono Oroshi. He’d completed his loop and was back on the platform, pumping his fist in the air.
I still had two more boats to cross. The problem was Kubikiri, one boat ahead. I had to either pass him or gamble that he’d move fast enough for me to reach my own boat before the flames caught us—and not so slow that Sumi would catch up with me.
I put my head down and barreled forward, ignoring the flames that licked at me, searing any skin that strayed too close. All I could do was keep moving and pray I made it to the end.
A roar from the crowd snapped my gaze up just in time to see a chopstick clip Kubikiri. The blow spun him around, and he toppled off the side of his boat, crashing into the narrow gap between the hull and the steel wall. He clung there, legs kicking, trying to haul himself back up.
This was my chance to pass him and close my loop. I leaped to his boat, landing hard but steady. One more boat and I could jump to the platform, safe from the flames.
