Death Cultivator by eden Hudson (knowledgeable books to read .txt) 📗

arm around my throat and threw his body into a roll.

As soon as my legs fell through open space, my heart jumped up into my mouth. I tried grabbing for something, anything, but Warcry’s arm snaked off my neck and both his feet hit me in the back.

I screamed as I dropped off the side of the ring.

The cage got smaller and smaller as I fell. I caught a glimpse of Kest and Rali up against the wire, both of their lacy eyes huge and mouths open, yelling something.

Then I hit the side of the rock chimney, and everything went black.

Rock Bottom

WHEN I WOKE UP, IT felt like someone was holding my forearm to a lit stove burner. I jerked away, but the fire came with me. The tattoos the Bailiff had put there were glowing bloodred.

What was weirder, I could feel some of the heat getting carried into my bloodstream and to the rest of my body. While I lay there staring at the marks on my arm, I could feel pieces of my ribs popping back into place and fusing together. That was not pleasant. Not super painful, but a lot of moving around inside where things should’ve been holding still.

I let my arm flop back to the dirt.

Way overhead, at the top of the rock spire, I could see the ring of light where the cage would be. I felt around my skull really carefully. I expected to feel my brains poking out the back where I’d hit rock, but there was just a tender knot. The tattoos must’ve fixed the damage while I was unconscious.

“Hake?” The voice sounded far away. Maybe someone was up in the cage yelling?

I shut my eyes. I definitely wasn’t hurt as bad as I should’ve been, but I didn’t feel like yelling back yet, either.

I must’ve blacked out, because the next time I opened my eyes, Rali was leaning over me. He grinned.

“He’s alive.”

Kest’s face appeared next to his. “Why didn’t you go for his knee?”

“I forgot,” I croaked. I sat up, wincing at the throbbing in my head and the pain in my ribs. My forearm wasn’t burning anymore, and the tattoos had gone back to black, so I must’ve had all the healing I was going to get.

“Tattoos are magic, aliens are everywhere, and you fight to the death for fun,” I said. “Does that about cover this universe?”

Kest frowned. “The OSS tattoo isn’t magic. It’s script that converts stored Spirit or calories—”

“Also, you’re indentured to a gang for a year,” Rali interrupted helpfully. “You left that part out. And said gang is coming down the chain ladder not very far behind us, so hurry up and eat this before they get here.” He shoved a sticky ball into my hand. “I didn’t have time to cook it. Sorry.”

I held it up to get a better look. The little ball was brown and floury. Silky tan grit dried on my fingertips and palm where I’d touched it.

“What is it?”

“Mostly flour, sugar, and the last drips of Coffee Drank left in your cans,” Rali said. “I didn’t have anything else to work with on the fly. It won’t taste great, but there should be enough Spirit inside to invigorate you. Eat it. Quick.”

Their rain barrel came back to me. “If this is a prank—”

“It’s not.”

I shoved the ball in my mouth and started chewing. The taste of flour was pretty loud, and I had to work up more spit to swallow, but there was enough sugary coffee flavor in there that it wasn’t awful.

As soon as it hit my stomach, I felt a shock wave of energy roll through my body. I still hurt pretty much all over, but standing up didn’t seem like the worst possible idea anymore. Before, I hadn’t realized I’d been tensing up all my muscles like I was waiting for another punch, but now the tension bled away.

Kest was doing something to my HUD. “The Winchester still works, but your screen is cracked. I don’t think I have a spare one in the shop.”

“Here they come,” Rali hissed.

He and Kest both stood up. I wasn’t as fast, but I got to my feet, too.

“Hands off!” The Bailiff’s shout echoed through the shut-in and pounded on my brain. “Whatever’s on him or in him belongs to the OSS for the next three hundred sixty-six.”

He was climbing down a jingling chain ladder, using his ghost arms instead of his scrawny skin-and-bone arms. Coming down behind him were a couple big dudes. Maybe he thought we would try to attack him and run if he came alone.

“Come on, Kest,” Rali said, projecting his voice theatrically and stepping away from me. “This guy isn’t dead, so there’s nothing to scavenge.”

“No, indeed.” The Bailiff hopped onto the sandy ground, then strolled over. “The OSS only invests in the best tattoo scripts credits can buy. Although, I admit I did expect to find you a bit less vertical considering your abysmal Spirit ranking, Hake old buddy.” He shrugged his shoulders. The ghost arms didn’t move up with the motion, though, so for a second, it looked like they were coming out the sides of his stringy biceps. He turned and yelled, “Head back up, boys! He’s in climbing condition!” at the big guys on the ladder.

“You sure?” one yelled back.

The Bailiff looked at me.

I nodded, trying to look determined. Either way, I wasn’t getting packed up a hundred-foot swinging ladder on somebody else’s back. It was going to be bad enough going up when I had control over all the hands and feet gripping the ladder.

The Bailiff grinned at my answer, showing me those brush teeth, then hollered, “Yep, kid’s got some get-up-and-go in him.”

I tried not to flinch at the volume. Every word felt like a kick from Warcry’s metal leg straight to the head.

The big guys on the ladder muttered a little, but turned around and headed back up toward the ring of sunlight at the top.

“If