I was doing something wrong.
“Pair it with the idea of strength,” said Church.
I pulled another hard bow stroke and imagined Cassius standing against Roman legions to defend his family. Amber light streaked again and flowed into Cassius’s bindings, wrapping him in a cocoon of light. The shimmer inside his shadow flared with radiance. His eyes widened, and his leg muscles bulged.
“Nicely done,” said Madam, clapping soft and slow.
Cassius broke the spearman’s grip on his throat, then swung his legs up and wrapped them around the spearman’s head and chest. He drove the giant back, his legs still holding him like a clamp, then pulled one of the man’s huge arms back until the elbow snapped with a loud crack.
The spearman screamed, and Madam raised her bow. “Lakshmi?” I pointed at Madam.
The raptorial’s hand flashed. A knife hit Madam’s lantern, knocking it from her hand. The theater crowd booed and tossed a few crumpled playbills onto the stage. They must have been running out of popcorn.
“Dirty move,” said Madam. “I love it.”
Cassius swung around, reversing his hold, and grabbed the spearman’s other arm.
The spearman flexed hard, lifting Cassius up over his head.
Cassius drove his boots into the spearman’s face and chest, but the spearman didn’t flinch and slammed Cassius’s head into the floorboards. Laughter and cheers rose from the crowd.
Cassius didn’t let up. He wrapped his legs around the spearman again and grabbed the giant’s good arm. Clenching his teeth and pulling with all his might, he arched his chest for leverage, trying to snap the second elbow. His sweat-beaded triceps bulged like thick snakes. The spearman howled and writhed in the centurion’s grip, frantically jerking and twisting his arm to no avail. At last, another loud crack sounded, and thespearman went limp in Cassius’s arms. A moment later, Cassius pushed the spearman’s body away, picked up his sword, stood, and pointed it down at the spearman’s chest. “Mercy?”
The spearman nodded and laid his head back on the stage. The frenzied crowd moaned and hissed.
Cassius limped back next to me. “You okay?” I asked.
“I miss honest combat like this.” “You’re a helluva wrestler.”
“I’m part Roman,” he replied, a wry smile on his face. “I will say, though, never in all my vestige years have I felt such a bracing stroke as that.”
“Sorry, I’ve never?—”
“Most thanatists just push a vague idea of health,” he said. “It never occurs to them that a better, deeper brace would result from a memory of the vestige’s own strength.”
“Made sense tome,” I said. “Plus, there was a margin note about it in Henry’s journal.”
Cassius sheathed his sword. “Thanatists rarely take time to know the pasts of those who serve them.”
The crowd began to shout for a rematch. Madam stepped forward to hush them. The Swing Kings petered out.
“We should be grateful to Mr. Solomon,” said Madam. “He’s a shining example of what we must fight against. His topside arrogance brought him into our theater, thinking he could strong-arm information from us that would undermine the revolution that gives you hope.”
The crowd jeered at me and my friends.
My dad had taken me to dozens of Rollin’ 100s initiations—kids not much older than me. He’d tell them joining meant safety, honor, and family. Then he’d turn the ranking members loose on them. I stopped counting how many of those boys’ funerals I’d been to. Looking at their caskets, all I could think of was how Dad had lied to them, the way Madam was lying now.
Lakshmi stepped forward. “Whatever you think of Mr. Solomon, Precedent requires you to answer any questions that relate to violation of the law.”
Madam laughed. “Watch yourself, my dear.” The crowd laughed and fell into excited chatter, as though another fight was coming.
We weren’t getting what we needed by appealing to Precedent. At least, not here, where Madam had a small army as backing. Sometimes you had to get someone alone—for better or worse, Dad had taught me that.
I sidled up beside Lakshmi and whispered, “Can you take us out the way you came in?”
“I’ll go you one better,” she whispered back. “There’s a spiral staircase backstage that leads topside.”
“Be ready,” I whispered.
