The Gender Game Read online

  After we'd eaten, we left the building and headed to Viggo's motorcycle. Soon, we were speeding toward his side of the mountains.

  We hit an unexpected spell of traffic along the way. I thought that maybe another accident had taken place and was clogging up all the roads again, just like the other night. But that didn't appear to be the case here. I strained my neck to see through the line of honking vehicles.

  "Damn," Viggo murmured.

  "What?"

  "I forgot it was today."

  "Forgot what was today?" I squeezed his waist, pressing him for an answer.

  "King Maxen is making an appearance just up the road. You see that gold sedan?"

  "Uh, yeah. Just about." A shiny golden vehicle was parked up near the sidewalk to our left.

  "That's the king's. It's the inauguration of a new hospital… I'm off-duty now, otherwise I'd be there making sure things ran smoothly."

  "A new hospital?"

  "They say it's going to be the most technologically advanced we've ever had in Patrus," Viggo said.

  "Lots of new, uh, technological stuff going on around here," I commented.

  "Yeah," Viggo said. "And there will be a lot more to follow in the coming months. Don't ask me for details. I don't make a habit of reading the papers."

  Or watching the news or listening to the radio, if his cabin was anything to go by.

  I guessed life was a lot quieter that way. More peaceful without the constant bombardment of headlines.

  I had lived that way for a lot of my life too—not that I'd had much of a choice in recent years, being stuck in detention centers. It wasn't exactly a priority there to keep the girls informed of current events.

  I inhaled deeply as we approached the foothills, once again relishing the crisp, pure air.

  "Do you always train by yourself?" I asked.

  "Of course not. There are guys I spar with in the gym. But sometimes it's good to be out in the open."

  I agreed.

  Ascending higher and higher, I finally caught sight of Viggo's cabin as we traveled the last stretch of road. This was the first time I had seen it in daylight.

  It really was small for a guy like Viggo. I wondered if he ever felt claustrophobic. Then again, if he did, he could sit out in the open, which I guessed was what the chair on his porch was for…

  After disembarking and parking his motorcycle, he led me up the steps to the wooden platform that ran around the cabin, and opened the door.

  "Come in if you want," he told me, already heading toward his bedroom. "I need to change."

  Closing the door politely behind me, I headed to the sitting room. It looked the same as the night I'd last visited. Even the ointment and bandages were in the same place, although the hearth was not ablaze.

  I was left to look out of the window—down at the bustling city—for a couple of minutes before Viggo returned barefoot, sporting a loose pair of pants and a looser black shirt that revealed a flash of his chest.

  "Want something to drink?" he asked me. "I only have water."

  "I'm okay for now."

  We returned outside and I followed him around to the back of the cabin, where he had a sprawling backyard. Most of it was overgrown, but there was a stretch in the center where the grass had been kept trimmed. A makeshift log shelter stood by its border. Beneath it was various exercise equipment. Weights, benches, and other strength training gear I couldn't put a name to.

  The view from this side of the house took me by surprise. Viggo's home being on a high plateau, it afforded a view of the other side of this mountain. The cliffs and peaks dipped down into a lush valley, through which ran a glittering river. And on the other side, more regal mountain ranges sprawled out for as far as I could see. Some peaks were so high, I couldn't even see their tips. Low clouds hung over them in an otherwise spotless sky.

  Viggo's view was unique. Cityscape on the one side. Wilderness on the other.

  He caught me staring in awe.

  "So, deeper into these mountains is where you plan to buy land, once you quit being a warden?" I asked him.

  "Not too deep, but deeper."

  I squinted, trying to gauge how far my vision would stretch into the distance. "What's too deep?"

  "Certainly no further than Thickets Bridge."

  Wherever that was…

  Viggo moved over to the log shelter and picked up some weights. I knelt on the grass as he began to warm up, my attention half on him, half on the view that was still taking my breath away. So far, things didn’t feel awkward, and I suspected that wouldn’t change. He was the same man as he was down in the city… just with a bit more breathing space.

  Viggo worked out for the next hour and then retreated into the cabin for water. He brought out a steel jug and two glasses.

  "Hope I'm not distracting you by being here," I told him, accepting a glass.

  "No," he said, dropping down on the grass next to me. "I planned to give myself a bit of a break today anyway. Still some days to go before the fight… and I know Cruz's style. Seen it many times before."

  He removed his shirt, wiping the sweat from his face, chest and neck.

  I stood up and wandered over to his equipment, testing the weight of his dumbbells. They were heavy. Very heavy. I played with a few other items before turning to face him. He was watching me.

  I slipped my hands into my pockets, kicking at the ground casually as I asked, "Would you teach me a thing or two about what you know?"

  "Teach you what, exactly?"

  "I don't know. Some punching and blocking tips. Some grappling techniques. You're like a snake when you get a hold of someone."

  He glanced toward the front of his cabin, as if to check no one was watching. "Okay." Putting down his glass, he strode over to me. "Let's start with some blocks… Say I go to punch you like this"—he moved his fist toward me in slow motion—"how would you block it?"

  I swiped it aside with a swift chop of my right forearm. Not the most elegant move, but it usually did the trick.

  "Okay," Viggo said. "And what about like this?" He came in with a slow round hook. Since there was enough space between us, I ducked down and went for his knees.

  "Now I would floor you," I said, hooking the back of my ankles against the back of his.

  "Try it," he said.

  I jerked my ankles forward, causing him to lose balance. He caught his fall expertly with his arms rigid and palms spread out.

  "And now," he said, sitting up and twisting me around so that my back was against his chest, "if I held you in this choke…" He locked one arm around my neck, the other fastening my arms behind my back. "How would you get out?"

  Hm. Good question.

  This was difficult because neither of us were standing. I couldn't knock him to the ground like I had done back in his changing room when he'd held me from behind.

  I tried to maneuver my legs to distance myself and loosen his grip on me, but I failed. I realized that I actually did not know—or remember—how to get out of this.

  "What's the answer?" I asked.

  "What if I told you the answer is, there's no way out of this one?"

  "I'd call bull."

  He chuckled. "Then get out of it."

  His challenge got my creative juices flowing.

  I realized what I would do. My knees were touching the ground, which meant that I had leverage. Due to the nature of his hold, his face wasn't far from the back of my head. I would jerk my body upward suddenly, catching him with a head-butt strong enough to weaken his grip on me for a few seconds. Then I'd slither out.

  Obviously, I wasn't going to actually do that now. I didn't want to give Viggo a bloody nose before his fight, so I just explained it to him.

  "Hm. That might've worked," he said. "But I guess we'll never know. Now that you've told me your idea, I'll be sure to watch the back of your head."

  Still his grip remained on me. "Hey, come on!" I said, grinning.

  "There is another way ou
t of this, though," he said. "At least one other way that wouldn't require you to smash my face in. Figure it out."

  Viggo was a hard taskmaster, but I liked it.

  Another idea came to me, and this time I acted instantly. Using my knees, I shoved all my weight to the right as I leaned backward. The mix of movement and direction was enough to rock Viggo's balance. We both toppled to our sides on the grass. As we made contact with the ground, there was a second where Viggo's hold loosened on my arms. I managed to slide them out in front of me and then break his hold on my neck enough for me to squirm and twist until I was facing him, our noses inches apart. I froze, realizing just how close we’d come to each other. Closer than we’d ever been. I paused for a few seconds to take in the details of his eyes, his dark lashes, every hue of green in his irises and the way they seemed to gleam as he looked back at me. Then, experiencing a flush of bashfulness, I switched back into fighting mode. Curving my right arm around him, I shoved myself further upward until my right shoulder dug into his neck, while I flattened his left arm beneath me. His right arm was still free, but I kept my head pressed close to his, which made it tougher for him to gain control of me.

  Of course, if he was actually fighting with me, he would've made things a lot more difficult. But as I released him and we both sat up, there was still a shine to his eyes. He seemed pleased.

  We spent the next few hours discussing techniques and putting them into play—mostly grappling, which was what I enjoyed the most, but also some punching and kicking. Before we knew it, dusk was upon us. That was just as well, I supposed. Viggo had worn me out. I was fit from manual labor, but I hadn't done resistance training for years. Of course I didn't have anywhere close to Viggo's lasting power. He could have continued all night.

  Although evening had fallen, we still had some time left before Lee arrived back home. Viggo strolled over to the wooden shelter, gripped its roof, and, with one fluid motion that caused every muscle in his back and arms to flex, he lifted himself onto it. He glanced down at me. "Wanna come up here? The view's pretty good."

  Heck, yes.

  I wasn't tall enough to reach the top of the roof, so Viggo offered a hand and helped me up. We sat down facing the wilderness, our legs dangling over the edge. The mountains glowed orange in the evening light, enhancing their raw beauty to something of fantasy.

  I had gained a new appreciation for why Viggo wanted to live up here. The view alone was worth the absence of electricity.

  "Thanks for that," I said to him, leaning back, my eyes ahead.

  "Welcome."

  A span of silence fell between us, but it was not uncomfortable.

  I glanced over my shoulder, toward Viggo's second view. The city. My eyes traced the shape of the river, and that of the buildings extending around it; they melded together, forming one giant crescent around the palace. Then I asked a question that had been nagging me for a long time.

  "What is the actual meaning of your crescent symbol?"

  Viggo followed my gaze and joined me in eyeing the city. "It symbolizes strength and potential. Growth, like the waxing moon."

  "Ah," I said softly. "That makes sense."

  It was ironic that it was Patrus' crescent mark that Matrus authorities stamped on boys who failed the test, when Patrus was the last place they'd ever be allowed to go.

  I turned my thoughts to the symbol on the Matrus flag—a curved grain of wheat. It was fairly self-explanatory. It signified growth and fertility, but it was intended more to be an ode to a society rooted in pragmatism, diligence, and most importantly, peace.

  I sensed Viggo watching me as I gazed upon the city, but I didn't let on. I felt that strange flurry in my chest again.

  He seemed to hesitate, then asked, "How did… you and Lee meet, Violet?"

  I realized that this was the first time I'd heard Viggo use Lee’s first name.

  "I thought he told you," I said, my jaw tightening.

  "Yeah," he said. "He did mention it in passing, I guess… Never mind."

  I let him fade into quiet. The less we discussed Lee and me, the better.

  But since he'd posed a question about my relationship, it seemed only natural that I should turn a question on him that ran along the same lines. "Have you always been single?"

  "No. I haven't. I… I was married. But things didn't work out."

  I sensed the discomfort in his voice and immediately regretted asking the question. I didn't want to dredge all those painful memories up for him. Not on such a beautiful evening as this, when his mood appeared to be lighter than it had been since I'd met him.

  "I'm sorry," I said and glanced away, hoping to make it clear that I didn't expect him to offer anything more on the subject.

  My eyes traveled further over the city of Patrus to its vast surrounding suburbs. Then northward, where The Green began on Patrus' side of the river, extending like an infinite ocean of trees. Then to the river itself, whose hanging mist was tinged with the evening sun… And then beyond that, blurred by the fog, the faint outline of Matrus.

  Sitting here with Viggo, it felt somewhat painful to stare in my homeland's direction for long. I'd had enough of the cityscape, anyway. I twisted back around and faced the wilderness. Viggo did the same.

  Only a quarter of the sun was visible now above the peaks. Soon we would have to leave. I didn't want Lee getting tense with me again, under more suspicion that I was getting "carried away".

  But we still had a few minutes left.

  Enveloped by the peaceful atmosphere, on the cusp of light and darkness, a question bubbled up in me.

  "You ever wonder if things will always be like this?"

  "What do you mean?" Viggo asked, his voice husky.

  "Just… how we find ourselves living."

  Viggo's gaze lowered to his hands. There was a pause before he replied, "More often than I should probably admit."

  Having both been victims of the law in our countries, I supposed we were more vulnerable to wondering. Grief did that to you. It made you wish for a life that wasn't yours. It made you dream.

  But dreaming wasn’t encouraged in my world. Just like expressing views opposing that of our Queen wasn’t. Doing the latter publicly was an offense that led to serious consequences—jail time, or occasionally even banishment. Criticism of the Court was something that had to be done behind closed doors, with people whom you trusted wouldn’t rat you out. I suspected Patrus was similar in that respect, given Viggo's caginess to clarify certain comments he’d made about Patrus’ leadership.

  My eyes fixed on a family of eagles swooping down upon a rocky cliffside, settling in for the night.

  "Do you feel like you belong in Patrus?" I asked him in almost a whisper.

  Viggo furrowed his brows. "I s'pose I don't really understand the question. I was born and raised here. I am a man."

  I didn't really understand the question either. I’d been born and raised in Matrus. I was a woman. Matrus was where I belonged. Matrus was my home…

  "I guess I just wonder what happens to someone who doesn't feel they belong on either side of the river.”

  Viggo didn't have an answer to that one.

  25

  We didn't stay much longer on the roof. Viggo pushed himself off, landing on the grass, and I was about to jump off after him when he reached up to help me. I hesitated, unsure of how this was going to work. Holding his hands at this angle would be silly.

  "Hold my shoulders," he said.

  His hands positioned on the roof on either side of my hips, he beckoned me closer with a gentle nod. I leaned down to grip his shoulders. As I slid into his arms, his hands engulfed my waist. Warmth flooded through me. My feet touching the ground, I was suddenly acutely aware of my erratic heartbeat. I withdrew my hands from Viggo’s shoulders and he let go of my waist, but we shared the same two feet of soil for a few seconds, his eyes reflecting the fading evening light.

  Then I staggered backward. I looked toward the cabin, feeling lighth
eaded. What's gotten into me? It's this mountain air or… something.

  "Let's go," Viggo said. His voice came as a croak. He left me and strode toward the front of his home; I found my balance and followed him.

  Mounting the motorcycle, neither of us spoke as we traveled back to Lee's house.

  We arrived well on time. Lee had only just gotten in and he smiled on opening the door to me, before the two of us waved Viggo goodnight.

  "Any change of schedule for him? No press release has been made yet involving a date." Lee asked as soon as we were inside.

  "It'll be kind of a last-minute fight," I said, my throat feeling parched. "It's been fixed for Saturday."

  "Hm. Okay," Lee said, stroking his chin. "That gives us four days before the banquet. I don't see why his schedule would change much immediately after the fight… Everything should still run as planned.”

  * * *

  The next few days passed quickly. Almost too quickly. Except for Lee reporting a scare in the lab, where he'd witnessed a group of men huddled around the egg, evidently trying to coax it open, nothing very eventful happened. Lee assured me that they'd failed to open it, though for all we knew, they might be getting closer to figuring it out. It was a good thing the banquet would soon be upon us.

  Lee continued to drop me off with Viggo in the mornings, and when he and I weren't in his office, roaming the city, or in some meeting, Viggo would be in the gym. I watched from the bench while Viggo worked out, sometimes by himself and sometimes with others. The two of us didn't go up to his cabin again.

  I had no more 'special' jobs to accomplish for the mission. My next and final task would be on the night of the banquet. The night I was due to leave Patrus. Lee's own prep work was almost done, according to him. It was no wonder that he had been so busy. He not only had to keep up with the demands of his job in the lab, but, on top of that, fulfill his end of the deal for Matrus. He had a lot of weight on his shoulders. We both did. I regretted resenting him for not taking on as much danger as me—although my tasks might be more out in the open and carry more immediate risks, he was still working hard in the background.