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“We’re almost there.”
Ember looked up from her magazine at the sound of Shotzi’s voice. “Where’s there?” The tank slammed over some rut in the road, making her wince. “Everywhere’s the same now.”
“This place isn’t.” Shotzi sounded cheerful. “It’s a wretched hive of scum and villainy.”
Ember sighed. Shotzi knew she hated references to the Before Time and the stories they’d known as kids, about worlds where good triumphed, where heroic people could escape a barren wasteland and sail up into the stars. She smoothed the magazine’s creased cover--the only reading material in the tank, the Dragon on the cover faded now. On the cover the cat-warrior glared out at her, golden-tiger-striped, orange-eyed and fierce. It’s a Whole New Game! Exotic Heroes! the text announced. Truenames and Fetishes: Unlock the Power of Your Secret Name! Once, before Ember Moon, there had been a little girl in the backseat of her parents’ car, dreaming of being an exotic warrior, of finding her true name.
A relic of a vanished world.
Tucking the magazine away, she clambered up and opened the left-hand hatch. Hot, dusty air raced by her, lifting her hair and stinging her eyes. Shotzi pointed ahead and yelled over the roar of the engine: “See? Bartertown!”
Ember grabbed the binoculars Shotzi handed to her and squinted through them, focusing on the squalid collection of shacks and derricks. One ramshackle tower lifted above the others, bristling with barbed wire and spikes. An arch in the foreground proclaimed Bartertown: Building a Better Tomorrow.
“Looks lovely,” she yelled.
“Wait until you smell it!” Shotzi hollered back.
“We’re just getting refueled and then we’re leaving, right?” Ember said as Shotzi took her helmet off and started to climb out of the tank. She was breathing through her mouth, but the stink was so fierce that she could taste it on her palate. The town runs on pig shit, Shotzi had explained with a grin, but the reek of human filth and the stench of human desperation was mixed in there too.
Shotzi frowned. “I mean, this is a good place to see if anyone’s hiring. It’s been a while between jobs and we don’t have much left for bartering.” She saw Ember’s gaze rest briefly on her helmet, and clutched it to her chest, her eyes wide. “Ember! You wouldn’t suggest I get rid of--”
“No, no, of course not,” Ember said, forcing a smile and ignoring her pinched stomach. “You take care of the refueling, I’ll look around and see if anyone needs some muscle.”
Bartertown was a filthy swirl of dust and clattering metal, hawkers selling their wares in high-pitched voices, and the ever-present sun baking into everything. In the center of town was a huge dome built of a latticework of metal: a prison of some sort? If so, no one seemed to be in it at the moment. Ember walked on through the jumbled alleys and stalls, picking up a hatchet here and a camshaft there and sizing them up with a practiced eye: what might they need to keep the tank running smoothly as they drove through nowhere on the way to nowhere again?
“Psst!” a piercing whisper caught her attention. A man with dark hair and a beard was standing in the doorway of what had once been a Winnebago motorhome, now barely held together with a motley assortment of duct tape, canvas, and welded rusting metal. “You look like a lady of discerning tastes. Could I interest you in some precious items?” He was wearing a medallion of beaten metal: a stylized “W” with one arm pointing north like a compass.
She was here to find a job, not to buy trinkets… Yet somehow Ember found herself mounting the steps of the Winnebago and peering inside.
“Step right in!” chirped a cheerful voice, and Ember whirled to confront a tiny blonde woman dressed in sparkly gauze with what looked like pixie wings affixed to the back. “The Way has everything you might need for your journey, fellow traveler! Behold, our trove!”
With a dramatic wave, she indicated the interior of the Winnebago.
The sunlight slanted through the curtains, glinting and glimmering off a hundred surfaces as Ember looked inside. As her eyes adjusted, she realized it was a massive collection of broken toys and old souvenirs: chipped ceramic mice, dusty stuffed bears, dinged-up plastic ponies, cracked Halloween masks of superheroes long forgotten now, a thousand mementos of an unbroken world.
“Everything is half off, a special Bartertown deal,” said a new male voice. In the back of the Winnebago were two younger people, both of them wearing hats with big, round, black ears. The younger man smiled widely at her. The woman sitting next to him was staring down at the floor unsmiling, her long dark hair falling around her face, a picture of melancholy made ludicrous by the mouse hat perched on her head.
“Are you okay?” Ember asked her without thinking, touched by the misery in her eyes.
“Oh, Indi’s in luuuuuuuuuuuv,” trilled the pixie woman, pirouetting into the Winnebago. “Nice to meet you,” she said, extending a genteel hand for Ember to shake. “I’m Candice, that’s Austin, and this is my husband Johnny,” she said, waving toward the man who had hailed Ember to begin with. “We are the Way!”
“We are the Way,” Johnny and Austin echoed her, with Indi mumbling the phrase a beat late.
Johnny picked up the thread with the ease of a well-worn patter. “We travel from town, collecting and selling our precious items, on our Way to the Promised Land.”
Candice, Johnny and Austin fixed identical fanatic smiles on her. Ember was definitely starting to get the impression that she had picked the wrong Winnebago to climb into. “The… Promised Land?” she said weakly, trying to edge toward the door.
Johnny seized an oblong piece of stiff paper from the dashboard, holding it up to her. “We travel in search of Adventure, in search of Fantasy, in search of the Frontier, in search of Tomorrow-morrowland!” In the dusty light, the delicate white turrets of the castle on the postcard lifted into a blue sky. “This is the Way,” Johnny said reverently.
“I’m pretty sure that’s obliterated,” Ember said. “I’m not sure we’re even on the right continent.”
Johnny frowned. “This is the Way,” he repeated.
“Okay,” Ember said uneasily. They didn’t seem actively dangerous, but you could never be sure. She glanced out the window, wondering if she could break through it, then did a double-take as something caught her eye. “Indi? I think someone’s outside looking for you.”
“What? Where? For me? How do you know?” Indi’s slouched apathy gave way instantly to a flurry of activity as she shoved Ember aside to look out the window. The man standing on the other side of the alley was dressed in tattered khakis, with a leather harness criss-crossing his bare chest. He held the piece of paper in his hands up higher, his face totally expressionless. Indi took in the picture drawn on it--an exaggerated caricature, but still recognizably Indi being carried bridal-style by the stranger, cartoon hearts spiraling around their heads--and made a high-pitched squeaking noise. “Oh, Dexter,” she cooed in delight, and was on her way to the door when Austin and Johnny grabbed her and dragged her back.
Candice darted out of the RV to confront Dexter. “Shoo!” she hissed, flapping her hands at him as you might a stray tomcat. “Shoo! Shoo! Get out of here!” He turned a gaze that was stoic yet somehow tragic upon her for a moment before lowering his arms and striding away. “He and Indi think they’re in love,” Candice said to Ember, who had followed her out into the alley and was getting ready to flee. “It will pass once we finish up in Bartertown and get on the road again. Everything will get back to normal.”
Behind them, the Winnebago was shaking from side to side, and Ember could hear Indi’s howls of anguish as she tried to shake off the Way’s restraining hands. “It doesn’t sound like something that’s going to pass,” she said.
Candice twitched an uneasy smile at her, the gauze pixie wings vibrating nervously. “She’ll realize he’s all wrong for her soon,” she said. “She’s just smitten because he worships the ground she walks on and wants to give her the world.”
“Uh, that doesn’t sound ‘all wrong for her’ at all,” Ember said. Candice turned a glare full of bright and manic malice on her, and she held up her hands placatingly. “Hey, hey, it’s none of my business,” she said.
“That’s right,” Candice said primly, dismissing her. “Fare well, stranger.”
Ember prowled the markets until the sun started to slide down the sky, the broiling heat giving way to a more merciful dusk, but eventually she had to admit that no one was hiring muscle right now. Parting with a couple of well-worn pieces of copper, she bought herself a roasted lizard on a stick and was on her way back to meet up with Shotzi, nibbling on the skewered meat, when a nervous voice broke into her thoughts.
“Why, hello there, missy.” The drawl of the deep South in the words caught her attention, and she turned to see a very hairy man in a battered leather top hat and a matching vest smiling at her. “Did I happen to overhear you say you were in need of some work?”
Shotzi crawled out from under the tank and took off her goggles, frowning at Ember’s new employer. “He’s grimy, all right.”
“That’s Grimes, little lady,” he corrected her. “And don’t be fooled by my humble ex-ter-i-or!” He drew out the world, savoring each syllable. “Some time ago, while doing a little exploring--”
“--You mean scavenging?” said Shotzi.
“Exploring,” Grimes insisted. “I came across a precious cache of bottled water, making me in a blink the wealthiest man in Bartertown!” He hooked his thumbs in his vest, preening. “The King of Kings himself admitted me to Titans Tower,” he said, waving up at the tall tower brooding over the town.
Shotzi rubbed a greasy hand across her face, leaving dark smudges. “The King of Kings?”
Grimes’ eyes darted nervously. “He who rules Bartertown, the master of the Thunderdome. The Cerebral Assassin. The Game.” His smile was a nervous rictus. “And I may have gotten in just a teensy weensy bit of trouble with him. Which is why I would like to procure the services of one of you charming--and muscular--ladies.”
It took a while to get the full story from him, but after a great deal of weaseling and evasion they eventually got him to admit that he may have tried to cheat the leader of Bartertown out of some money by promising to deliver more water than he actually had and then attempting to flee town. “Now I have to face down his champion in the Thunderdome tonight and, well, I’m not too keen on it!” he concluded with a nervous chuckle.
“Why not just skip town before then?” Ember suggested.
“Oh, believe me, I would love to,” Grimes said. “But he has eyes everywhere. I’m sure he’s watching us now.”
Ember followed his furtive glance back up to Titans Tower and caught a glint of what might have been light from a telescope turned in their direction. Casting her mind back, she remembered cameras placed here and there in the streets. Apparently the ruler of Bartertown kept things under tight control.
Grimes took off his hat and bowed awkwardly in her direction. “He’s not picky about who exactly provides the entertainment in the Thunderdome. He won’t mind if you take my place and pay off my debt.”
Ember looked at Shotzi. “What do you think?”
Shotzi shrugged. “If you feel like beating someone up, why not?”
Ember cracked her knuckles. “So whose ass am I kicking tonight?”
“Oh, the chief enforcer for the Cerebral Assassin. Name’s Lumis.” Grimes smiled at her. “It’ll be fun!”
“Fun, huh?” Ember yelled at Grimes, casting her eyes around the Thunderdome, which as it turned out was the dome-shaped cage she had seen earlier in the day. There were various weapons tied along the bars of the dome: a chainsaw, a kendo stick, a sledgehammer, a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, and--Ember squinted dubiously. Was that a potted plant?
“Two men enter, one man leaves,” the chant rose up around her like mist. The inhabitants of Bartertown had gathered around the Thunderdome, climbing up it until faces stared out at her from each square of the cage. “Two men enter, one man leaves.”
“You didn’t tell me it would be to the death!” Ember hollered at Grimes, who grimaced apologetically at her from outside, shrugging.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” a booming voice came from a platform on Titans Tower, and the crowd fell into a respectful silence as the King of Kings stepped out into the light to address them. He was a tall man, grizzled with age but still muscular, wearing an iron crown, spiked chainmail epaulets, and a sweeping scarlet cape. “Are you ready?”
The crowd roared its approval, but the Game didn’t seem satisfied.
“No, Bartertown! I said, are you ready!?”
The crowd noise ratcheted to a fever pitch. The ruler of Bartertown nodded slowly, then raised his hands with a flourish. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we will witness a duel in the Thunderdome between two fighters of prowess and valor! Before you stands the first combatant, a ferocious warrior from a distant land, the Goddess of War herself, Ember Moon!”
There were howls and hoots of approval from the audience. Ember nodded at them absently, still trying to construct a plan to get to the barbed wire bat.
“And her opponent, the silent scourge of the wastelands, the Tortured Artist and my right hand man… Dexter Lumis!”
The door on the opposite side of the Thunderdome opened, and the man Ember had first seen pining for Indi stepped through.
“Dexter!” came a scream from the outside, and Ember glanced over to see Indi and the rest of the Way, their faces framed by the steel of the Thunderdome. Indi looked stricken, and even Candice was worrying at her lip as she looked at Indi’s horrified face.
Dexter’s face was expressionless as usual, but Ember saw his eyes flick over to Indi’s face for just a second. There was no time to do anything, no chance to back out; a harness was already being buckled around her, attached by some kind of bungee to the bars of the Thunderdome. Lumis raised his arms to allow the cords to be attached, his gaze fixed on her now.
High above them, the Cerebral Assassin raised a hammer in the air and brought it down with a brassy clang onto a bell. The roar of the crowd outside the cage rose like a wave, and Ember launched herself forward in a sweeping arc, letting the harness lift her up to where she could grab the first thing that came to hand: a kendo stick tied to the bars.
Kicking off the cage, she leapt back down to where Lumis was already waiting, standing as though he’d never moved. So fast--! Ember swung the kendo stick at him, only to have him parry it easily with the chainsaw he’d grabbed. The kendo stick got sliced cleanly in half, leaving Ember with a useless stump of wood. She hurled it at Lumis, then broke into a run, dodging the whirring blade. She heard Shotzi yelling in fury outside the Thunderdome as she drew the bungee taut and soared back up to grab the barbed-wire bat, coming down swinging wildly.
Lumis swung again, but just as the chainsaw was about to slice through the bat, the engine sputtered and died. He stared at it almost comically, then dropped it as Ember came at him with the bat. The dodged her blow enough that it merely glanced across his side, but the barbed wire dug in and he came up from his roll with his hand on his side, crimson trickling between his fingers. Ember heard the crowd chanting her name, over and over, like a heartbeat, pounding in her veins. She danced forward and swung again, but this time he merely caught the bat in his gloved hands and wrenched it away from her. It spun away from them, flying through one of the squares of the cage, to cries of delight and alarm from the crowd. Ember braced herself against the elastic and leapt upward again, searching for a new weapon.
After a few more rounds of combat, it was clear they were too equally matched. He was stronger, but she was faster; he had more reach but she had better balance. They were both filthy, covered with dirt and blood from various close calls. Ember had gotten in a good shot once with the incongruous potted plant, but at some point Lumis had found a bag full of thumbtacks, and now every time she rolled or tumbled away from him she could feel them piercing her skin like a hundred cruel bites. Now they stared at each other, breathing heavily, trying to think of any way to break the stalemate.
Outside the Thunderdome, the crowd, which had been screaming its approval, started to grow restless. A new chant started to break out, building in strength, and Ember frowned: who was this C.M. Punk person? He must have been a famous gladiator, but hearing him chanted for now, when she was the one bleeding, was infuriating. She caught a flicker of the same annoyance in Lumis’s eyes, and then he was moving again, running in an arc higher than ever before to grab something tied nearly at the top of the cage. As he came back down Ember realized it was a sword of some kind, curved like a scimitar: she dodged desperately but his momentum was faster than she had anticipated, and the blade slashed across her shoulder.
It was a deep cut, and she knew if she didn’t find a way to counter fast she was finished. She let the blow pull the elastic taut, then flung herself forward, running halfway up the cage. Instead of continuing to the sledgehammer in her path, though, she turned and flipped down toward Lumis, catching his head as she flew by him and yanking him down onto the dirt.
He hit the ground with a thud, the scimitar clattering out of his grip. Before he could recover his wits, Ember had her foot on his chest and the blade at his throat.
The mob outside the cage went dead still for a second, then erupted into screams of approval. Ember and Lumis stared at each other. The blood from Ember’s shoulder dripped down onto Lumis’s chest; she tightened her grip on the sword.
All around them the chant rose up again: Two men enter, one man leaves. Two men enter, one man leaves. Outside the cage, Ember could hear Indi sobbing wildly. Lumis turned his head so he could look at her one last time, then closed his eyes, waiting for the killing blow.
Ember stared at him, rummaging in her memory. There was a way out of this, she had seen it in one of the old books she read as a child, lost forever with the old world… what was it?
It came to her.
Throwing back her head, she addressed the King of Kings in his iron armor, standing still above the Thunderdome. “As they say, two men enter, one man leaves. But--” She paused, letting the crowd hang on her words, then finished: “I am no man!”
The mob went silent.
Ember kept staring up at the Cerebral Assassin.
After a moment, he started to applaud slowly, and she saw the stern mouth twisted in a wry smile. “You got me,” he said. “I can’t resist a good Lord of the Rings reference.” He waved a hand magnanimously. “Release them! And bring bandages for the triumphant Goddess of War.”
“You realize I can’t just let all of you off the hook.” The lord of Bartertown finished binding up Ember’s shoulder, his hands surprisingly gentle. He’d come down from his tower and entered the Thunderdome, having the guards usher in Shotzi, Indi, Johnny, Candice and Austin as well. The crowd ringing the cage had gone quiet, but it was a stillness as if they were waiting for something. The King of Kings let his gaze go across their faces, their expressions ranging from chagrin to defiance (except for Indi, who was cradling Dexter’s head in her lap and kissing his forehead now and then). “You did assault my guards and try to interfere in the match, after all.”
“Your match was stupid!” Shotzi flared up at him. Behind her Johnny muttered something about how he couldn’t let Indi fight all alone, that wasn’t the Way.
“There’s got to be a price paid, or I lose authority. You understand?”
Ember gritted her teeth. “I understand.”
“Very well.” He clapped his hands and the guards carried in what appeared to be a huge iron wheel, divided into sections. Ember saw words engraved on it: Death, Amputation, Burial, Boiled in Oil, a lone Acquittal.
With a flourish, the Cerebral Assassin turned to the audience. “You know the rules of Bartertown!”
The chant came back: Bust a deal, face the wheel. Bust a deal, face the wheel.
“Oh no,” moaned Johnny in a panic as Ember stepped forward. “Not the Wheel! I hate wheels!”
Ember put her hand on the wheel; she met Shotzi’s eyes for a grim second, then spun.
Their fates flashed by, everyone hanging on the metallic clattering as it slowed… slowed… and finally came to rest on Exile. Everyone in the ThunderDome released a sigh of relief. The crowd outside sighed in some disappointment.
“So be it!” announced the Game, raising his arms wide. “I hereby proclaim you exiled forever from Bartertown.” Then he paused, almost smiling. “However, it does seem that I have a vacancy for an enforcer or two,” he said, glancing over at Dexter and Indi. “What do you say? Would anyone like to stay here in the ThunderDome, facing down all opponents? Fame and fortune both await you here.”
“You know what?” Shotzi’s voice surprised Ember. “I might take you up on that. This place looks like a blast, and I might get to use a chainsaw on someone.” Austin was nodding thoughtfully as well. Shotzi turned to Ember. “What do you say?”
Ember looked around the Thunderdome, at the crowd and the weapons and the bloody dirt. She took a deep breath, fragrant with pig shit, and smiled at Shotzi.
“I think maybe I need to keep going,” she said. “I don’t think this is the place for me.”
Shotzi held out her arms and gathered Ember in for a hug. “Good luck to you, sister,” she said. “I hope you find your Tomorrow-morrowland.”
“Tomorrow-morrowland!” Johnny and Candice said reverently.
Ember listened to the roar of the motorcycle beneath her--her motorcycle, apparently. They’d found it leaning up against the Way’s Winnebago, keys in the ignition, and a note attached to it: With respect, Hunter.
She wasn’t sure who Hunter was, but she had some guesses.
The desert air pushed her hair back and the sun blazed and shimmered around her. She was wearing Shotzi’s helmet--another parting gift. All her belongings--including her tattered Dragon magazine--fit into a small bag tied to the back of the bike. Ahead of her the Winnebago clattered along the road toward the horizon. Ember could see Indi and Dexter framed in the back window, gazing into each other’s eyes. Her shoulder hurt, but it would heal.
Adventure awaited her. Tomorrow awaited her.
Ember twisted the throttle and surged forward, away from the Thunderdome and toward the unknown future.