Fear Me Not (The EVE Chronicles) by Sara Wolf Page B

his jeans.
    Taj puts a hand on my shoulder. “Not used to nudity?”
    “It’s j-just…weird. It feels wrong, to be seeing this.”
    He nods. “We have similar concepts. Being seen with your frill flared is the most private of things, and reserved for family or mates only.”
    “Why did you ask for a patra ?” I inquire. “Seriously. Why does everyone look so confused? I thought patras were pretty normal.”
    Taj smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Just watch.”
    I peek back, Shadus now fully dressed in the silver uniform. The circle of Gutters forms again, and he and Taj take their places within it. They bow to each other, then touch the concrete floor with two fingers on one hand, and then the other hand. Finally, they turn and bow to the crowd, who bows back. It’s surreal and ritualistic.
    A Gutter from the crowd steps forward.
    “ Asara son’e raszek !” He shouts, the three words ringing. Son’e. I vaguely remember that from Ms. Gianca’s class. It means ‘listen’. Asara listens to blank. Shadus and Taj move slowly around each other, like two sharks circling in a tank. Taj lashes out first. Shadus slides cleanly out of the way. Taj does a handstand-walk over and in one fluid motion strikes for Shadus’ neck. Shadus ducks instantly. A murmur goes around the Gutter circle again.
    “ Sotho are really on another level.”
    “Of course. They train with the Black Sands.”
    “Melune was good, but Shadus is much better.”
    “Don’t be stupid. Taj was champion of the Rain Ceremony for three years. He will win.”
    “Shadus is Executioner, though. Their life is fighting.”
    The conversation is drowned out when the crowd cheers wildly. Shadus spiraled away from Taj, and he’s now hanging from the ceiling by one finger, smirking down at him. Taj’s frown deepens, and Shadus falls to the floor.
    “Are you going to strike me at all, Shadus?” Taj asks as they circle each other. “Or am I fighting a shadow with no spine?”
    “You wanted this fight. Not me,” Shadus retorts lazily, flicking his bangs. His mannerisms say he isn’t taking it seriously, but his hard, ruby eyes say otherwise.
    Gold meets crimson, and for a second, neither of them moves. Then Taj lunges, so quick I barely follow it. Shadus’ eyes widen and he ducks just in time to have Taj’s hand soaring over his head. Shadus backs up, putting space between them, and Taj snorts, cracking his neck. Sweat drips from his brow, and sweat trickles down Shadus’ collarbone.  
    “I call a patra , and you aren’t willing to fight,” Taj sneers. “Despicable.”
    “She isn’t Raine,” Shadus says. “You’re confusing everyone.”
    “Let them be confused. I simply wanted to test your abilities.”
    Shadus laughs. He actually throws his head back and laughs . His iron mask of seriousness is gone, shattered. He laughs until he runs out of breath, and then he looks down at Taj with a cruel glint in his eyes.
    “You’re so transparent, Taj. You always have been. I guess this human-Gutter integration is working a little too well on you, isn’t it?”
    Shadus looks at me, and Taj’s eyes flicker over to me too. But it only lasts a second, because Taj snarls and leaps for Shadus. Shadus keeps his wicked smile on. I must be seeing things. Shadus’ face is changing because it’s hot in here and I’m having a heatstroke, not because that’s reality. The way his pupils snap into vertical slivers like a cat’s instantly isn’t reality. The way his canines seem to grow a little longer past his lips isn’t reality. The shiny blue-black tinge that starts to grow around his neck and creeps to his forehead isn’t reality. The low growl-hiss reverberating in the room, like a giant snake’s, isn’t coming from him. It isn’t reality.
    But I’m not seeing things, because the Gutters fall deathly quiet. They see it too.
    Taj sees it too late. His gold eyes widen in shock – no, fear - and he tries to pull back from his assault but momentum