Halo (Blood and Fire Series (A Young Adult Dystopian Series)) by Frankie Rose Page A

he’s wearing. I pretend I don’t notice. Better not to acknowledge it at all.
    “What’s a Tamji fighter?”
    Ryka clears his throat. “We have progressions of fighting in Freetown. Everywhere else that I’ve ever heard of, too.”
    “There are other places?”
    He slows a little more so that he falls into step alongside me. “There are lots of other places, other cities,” he says. He’s mocking me with the way he speaks to me, like I’m a small child. “A Tamji is a fighter of high honour. I’ve been Tamji for six months. Everyone keeps saying I’ll be upgraded after the next few bouts. I’m not sure, though. It depends.”
    “On what?” I can’t help but ask. Their system of fighting sounds so different to the one back home.
    Ryka chews on his lip. “On the priestesses. Fighters are upgraded during the blood ceremonies, which are held before each match. The town’s priestesses have visions. They call men from the ranks and upgrade them when it is their time.”
    “So, you aren’t promoted based on your skill?”
    “It’s supposed to be that way, I guess. Loosely. We just go when the priestesses call us.”
    I screw my face up. Is he lying? He could be for all I can tell; I’m still no good at differentiating the truth from anything else. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because! What if someone with no skill is called up to become a Tamji ,” I say, emphasising the term, “and he’s not ready?”
    “Then it must be his time to die.” Ryka says this with such nonchalance that I’m stunned. I try not to let my horror show but it’s getting tougher; there are no half measures for me anymore. Everything is either the very best or the very worst thing ever. Mostly the very worst.
    “Who are these priestesses? They must be monsters to pitch two unevenly skilled fighters against one another. That’s not a match. That’s murder.”
    Ryka blows out a sharp breath from his nose and glares at me. “Firstly, it’s all murder, no matter how you look at it. And secondly, the Priestesses are revered. Be careful saying stuff like that in future, especially if you want to stay in Freetown. You’ll get yourself killed otherwise. Don’t you have the Faith in Lockdown?”
    “No.” The only religion I’ve ever known is the religion of routine, of training, the religion of fighting.
    “Huh. Explains a lot,” Ryka says. “No religion, no feelings, no freedom. All of those things go hand in hand. You’re all just a bunch of collared animals with no idea that you’re being held captive in the first place.”
    I feel my muscles twitch, not liking the way he’s talking. There’s a hard edge to the timbre of his voice, incredibly bitter. “Do animals wear collars?” I ask.
    “Yes, they do.”
    Weird concept. I can’t really picture it; an animal is still a lump of meat on a plate to me. “But Jada doesn’t?”
    “No, she doesn’t,” Ryka gives me a stern look, tucking his hair behind his ears. “Even she has more freedom than you did in Lockdown.”
    The hard, bright light in his eyes is really more aggressive than it needs to be. I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me, so why does he look like he’s personally offended? Not that it matters. Who cares what he thinks, anyway? Sadly, I guess I do, because I find myself snapping at him. “It’s not the same, okay. Stop calling it a collar. I’m not an animal, and this is a halo .” I tug at the hard metal hanging loose around my neck.
    Ryka looks at me for a moment before bursting into laughter. I want more than anything in the world to slap him across his face. Jada runs back to us and starts barking like she wants in on the joke.
    “What’s so funny?” I snap.
    “Your halo ?” He reaches out to hook his finger under it. I can barely believe he’s done it for a moment, can barely believe his finger is touching the skin on my neck beneath the ring of heavy metal. I haven’t even been brave enough to touch