The Bone Yard didn't have a gym. It had "The Pit."
It was a crude, muddy circle dug into the earth near the perimeter fence, ringed by heavy logs. Every morning, the sound of grunts, cracking wood, and the dull thud of bodies hitting the dirt echoed through the camp.
I usually avoided it. The violence reminded me too much of the ambush.
But today, Olara had sent me to fetch water from the rain barrels near the perimeter. To get there, I had to pass The Pit.
I kept my head down, hugging the heavy wooden bucket to my chest, trying to make myself invisible. My ankle was throbbing, a dull rhythm that synced with the pounding of my heart.
"Well, well. Look who finally crawled out of the kitchen."
The voice was like a whip c***k.
I froze. I didn't need to look
