The next day, Caruso was sitting in the gardens, watching the shroommoths flutter and fight around the purpleveil patch. The shroommoth with the damaged wing was happily crawling over a purpleveil Caruso had picked and layed down for it. He wondered if the moth had any idea how short its lifespan was.
A loud pulsing whirring sound filled the compound. It came from outside the walls.
Foresters emerged from their rooms, and head to the wall at the far end of the compound. No one looked stressed or on edge, instead they seemed excited.
‘What’s happening?’ he asked a passing Forester.
‘That’s Ferris’s bullroarer. Patrol must’ve brought us back a few Urchins to play with.’
Caruso spotted Kumiko. She smiled at him and Caruso went to stand next to her. Before he could ask her anything, a large section of the wall lowered in front of the group. Miles stood in the clearing, frowning, and without a word turned back towards the tree line. He didn’t walk on the ground, but on a low wall that now cut across the clearing, from the compound out to the trees. Six Foresters emerged from the forest, including the unmistakable figure of Ferris. Three other figures accompanied them—presumably Urchins. Like Miles, they all walked atop the low wall.
‘Why are they all walking on that wall?’ Caruso asked Kumiko.
She launched into a detailed explanation on how to safely transport hostile Urchins.
‘…so as long as everyone stays on the wall,' Kumiko explained, 'the Urchin waller is powerless and cannot launch anyone to their deaths.’
‘Has that ever happened?’
‘Oh yeah, but usually Miles manages to catch them.’
Usually… They approached the compound in single file with Ferris leading the way. The Urchins were all gagged and blindfolded. Caruso didn’t need to ask about the blindfolds—it seemed an obvious precaution against all three classes. But he also noticed the Urchins had their faces splashed with paint: one red, one white, one black.
‘What’s with the—’
‘The paint?’ Kumiko offered eagerly. ‘It’s to tell them apart. If you are dealing with Urchins you better know what class they are. So when we capture them, we paint them. Black for blinker, white for waller, red for threader.’
‘Does this happen often? Capturing Urchins I mean?’
‘Not often enough.’
As well as gags and blindfolds, all Urchins had their hands threaded behind their backs, and ankles threaded loose enough to allow them to shuffle forwards. Behind each Urchin was a Forester, guiding them forward across the low wall.
‘But the blinker can still blink away,’ Caruso said. ‘What’s stopping him?’
Kumiko grinned a knowing grin. ‘Look closer.’
The black-painted blinker was behind Ferris and being led by Kactus.
‘Look at his blinkspot—where the Urchin will appear after blinking,’ Kumiko said. ‘Mile’s wall lines up perfectly towards the Godshroom. So if the Urchin blinks…’
Caruso looked five paces behind the Urchin blinker, he assumed the spot would be kept clear and likely guarded, but instead…He would blink directly on top of—or more accurately, inside of—the red painted Urchin behind him.
‘Oh, that’s uh…’
‘Clever, right? It’s a neat little trick. And if that still doesn’t discourage him, then Serene is waiting with her long dagger to cut him down.’
Caruso was a little disturbed how casually she spoke of these things. The procession of Foresters and Urchins arrived within the compound. Miles erected a large platform made from several low thick walls stacked together, onto which the three Urchins were set on their knees and threaded in place facing the crowd with several paces between them. The red Urchin was in the middle; she was the only female. With the gags and blindfolds Caruso couldn’t get a good look at them, it was hard to tell if they were scared or defiant. He noticed though that all appeared the same age, all around thirty.
The awaiting crowd of Foresters formed a safe twenty-pace perimeter, with Kactus and Serene standing behind the platform guarding the black Urchin’s blink spot.
The Urchin waller chose that moment to throw up a quick wall towards the crowd. Before that, none of the Urchins showed any sign of trying to attack or escape. The wall shot upwards with an impressive burst of speed. If a Forester had been standing there, they would’ve been launched well beyond a lethal height, but between the platform and the crowd, it hit nothing but empty ground.
‘You missed!’ Someone yelled out and was met with laughter and jeers. A sandal was thrown and struck the white Urchin. The crowd cheered and laughed some more and before long, everyone was calling out. A couple more sandals and some purpleveils were hurled at the prisoners, until finally Ferris jumped up on the platform. The crowd silenced immediately. He stood tall in front of the Urchins, and spoke with a loud booming voice.
‘These Urchins are responsible for interfering with our anima research. I need not tell you how important understanding the animashroom is, not just for us, but for the very protection of the Godshroom and all who dwell within its circles.
‘To wear the stone disc of a Forester is to pledge a duty to the Godshroom. Our duty is not an easy one, our lives are fraught with challenges and choices, with duty and discipline, and with a holy sacrifice from which we mustn’t flinch. We must stare down our destiny, and with both hands grasp it with a grip tighter than death, lest we lose all that a Forester stands for.’
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Ferris raised a clenched fist into the air and every Forester cheered as one, Caruso included. It wasn’t as much Ferris’s words but the way in which he delivered them. There was a power and a majesty in the way he spoke and held himself and locked eyes with each member of the audience. Not a single Forester wasn’t swept away by the speech as Ferris’s voice swelled with emotion, rose to a trembling crescendo, and quivered with a passionate fury.
‘So when the Urchins seek to weaken our grip. We mustn’t let them.
‘When the Urchins seek to undermine that which we have built. We mustn’t let them!
‘When the Urchins plot against us, to hold us back, to destroy us! WE MUST NOT LET THEM!
‘We are the kings of the forest, the kings of the shroom circles, and the kings that lead the realm of men. So let us perform our duty, and let the Urchins witness our divine providence!’
The crowd erupted into a frenzy and Caruso was right there with them. The energy was intoxicating. Ferris summoned Kumiko with one hand and she stepped forward, blinking pole in hand. One Urchin, Caruso noticed, had pissed himself. The others shook pathetically.
‘Do to them as they would do to you,’ Ferris commanded.
Kumiko stood up on the platform, several paces in front of the black-painted Urchin. She lowered and aimed her pole and with an enraged scream, blinked five paces closer to the Urchin—close enough that the tip of her pole punched through the Urchin’s midsection. The Urchin doubled over and Kumiko yanked her pole from his belly, holding up the bloodied stick for the crowd.
They cheered for the blood, and cheered for more. Caruso looked at the Foresters around him, but no one else seemed concerned or uncertain about what was happening. He saw Niko glance at him, so he quickly steeled himself, burying any uneasiness away and stood strong with the others. I’m one of them now.
Kumiko returned to the edge of the platform, positioned her pole, and blinked again. After each blinkstrike she would step five paces back and go again, and again, and again, each blink calculated and exact. Her pole ripped through the Urchin’s shoulder, made a ruin of his knee caps, and one strike through his wrist severed his hand from his arm but for a thin dangle of skin. The crowd screamed their approval, their cheers growing louder, higher pitched with each gruesome attack. After Kumiko skewered her pole deep through his chest, the Urchin collapsed forward in a grisly puddle of blood-vomit. She stepped back one last time and blinked her pole through his head with a wet crack, delivering his death. The Foresters chanted her name as Kumiko held her gore stained pole up above her head.
Caruso felt queasy and disoriented, this wasn’t who he thought Kumiko was, this wasn’t who he thought the Foresters were. But it was clear no one else felt this way. They all wore savage blood-thirsty grins, even Orange at the edge of the crowd didn’t seem to have any qualms. The long-haired Forester caught Caruso’s eye and gave him a wink. Somehow that told Caruso that this was all okay, and remembering Ferris’s speech, this was all probably necessary. He shook away any doubts as Kumiko rejoined the crowd next to him.
Ferris called on Miles next to deal with the Urchin waller. Miles created his own little podium to stand on in front of the platform, he raised a hand and dropped a handful of grass that floated straight back down. Everyone started to slap their thighs in a slow ominous beat. Caruso slapped along as the ground under the white-painted man inched up slowly and then lowered back down just as slowly. Miles teased the crowd a couple more times, raising his arms up and down in unison with the prisoner as if he were conducting a symphony. The beat of the thigh slapping increased in tempo. The Urchin gripped his own thighs and sent up a couple of desperate walls in odd directions, hitting nothing but air.
Miles ended his charade and with a short quick wall, sent the Urchin flying a mere twenty feet into air. To the Urchin’s credit he didn’t flail in the air, and instead tried to land on his feet. He seemed to land safely but was immediately relaunched, this time higher. Again the Urchin kept his composure but that didn’t stop him from eventually breaking against the ground—the snap of one his legs was unmistakable.
With brutal control, Miles flung him repeatedly into the air but never high enough to end his misery. Each time the Urchin flew, the crowd's voice rose with him, and with each landing, the Urchin broke a little more. In the air, the Urchin’s limbs became looser until they were flopping unnaturally and disgustingly around him. The ground where the Urchin landed soon became a red stain.
For the climax, Miles lowered the Urchin down below the platform before slinging him back up with his fastest and tallest wall yet. The Urchin shot up into the sky, easily fifty paces high. The thigh-slapping became faster and faster and faster, until devolving into a frenetic roll of drumming as the Urchin plummeted, down and down and down, before bursting on the ground besides the woman Urchin.
The remaining red-painted Urchin was now flecked with red blood, the platform around her a repulsive stew of gore and shattered limbs. They deserved it, Caruso quickly reminded himself. They are murderers.
While the crowd cheered the latest death, Caruso caught Niko steal another glance at him. It was a questioning glance, perhaps testing his mettle. He gave her a solid nod—I’m okay.
The truth was, it was alarmingly easy to just go along with the crowd. The more everyone clapped and cheered, the more effort it required to swim against that current. There was still a part of him that was deeply disturbed, shocked, and sickened by what he had seen. But little by little, that inner voice was being swept away by the strong flow of the crowd. Was that voice even worth holding on to? All it did was make him feel like an outsider, like he didn’t belong—a feeling Caruso was tired of struggling with.
He remembered something Ferris had told him, ‘Unburden yourself. Surrender it all to me. Your worries, your fears, your uncertainties.’ Is this what he meant? Caruso wondered. Is this what everyone else was doing?
Kumiko leaned in towards Caruso. ‘Miles always puts me to shame. It’s hard to make blinking look as dramatic as walling.’
Caruso regarded her, seeing both the friendly earnest woman who made him feel welcome, and the killer with the blood tipped pole and grisly scar where her left ear should be.
Before he could think of a response, everyone hushed as Ferris strode out before the remaining red-painted Urchin. He turned to address the Foresters, and as he began to speak, Caruso noticed a couple of threads snaking up the Urchin’s side. Several others also noticed and alerted Ferris. Ferris turned towards the Urchin with an amused grin, seeming more curious than concerned. Her threads quested about her head and tugged her mouth gag down to her neck. Ferris made no move to stop her.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?!’ The red painted Urchin trembled as she spoke. ‘Cheering for torture and murder? You make me sick!’
‘It is not for the blood we cheer,’ Ferris replied without skipping a beat. ‘But for the prevailment of Foresters! With stakes as high as they are, every victory is cause to celebrate.’
‘Fuck you. Fuck you! Fuck you all!’
‘I’m willing if she is,’ Kactus called out. Everyone else chuckled.
‘Any more final words?’ Ferris asked her.
‘Fight me. Fight me, or I’ll kill myself right now.’ One of her threads entered her ear.
Ferris didn’t consider for long. ‘Very well. We shall fight. A duel of threaders. No knives. Miles, make us an arena, twenty by twenty.’