Chapter 16

chapter sixteen RACK. Oh, come on. I wasn't ready. The fight hasn't even started yet, and Stargrove just knocked my fillings loose. A pack of gorblins wrangle the undead monster, dragging her to the cage's far wall. Outside, Flustrod and Pillksort wave their little staffs around, addressing the crowd with the enthusiasm of someone selling a waffle iron on late-night TV. "We have two fighters! Stargrove: the only undefeated champion in the history of our beloved—and, admittedly, very cruel—game!"

The throng of gorblins erupts. They smack their tails together, a sort of high-five/clapping combo that creates an earsplitting rattle. One spins a Stargrove T-shirt over his head. Chants of "STARGROVE! STARGROVE!" fill the air. I ignore the monsters, instead searching for Quint. As I look around, I realize even the bars of this cage are constructed from scavenged junk—different metals crisscrossing. I let the strangely low gravity lift me higher, so I can get a better look, hoping to find Quint. But the crowd is too thick, with gorblins sitting on shoulders, stacked four and five high. No sign of my friends. "And we also have..." Pillksort starts, then leans against the cage and whispers, "Hey, big top-dog liar, what's your name?" "Um..." I hesitate, thinking it might not be smart to give my real name. They could realize we're wanted by the enforcers—or worse, they could be buddies with Wracksaw. Also, a name that strikes fear in these gorblins could be useful. But I'm coming up with zero fear-striking names. Hard to put your mind to cool names when a frothing zombified starfish-beast is trying to break free and make you its next meal.

"YOUR NAME!" Pillksort repeats. My name is, uh, Neil Armstrong. Not what I expected. But okay, no judgment inside the battle ball except the final judgment With that, the gorblins slam the door shut, locking me inside with Stargrove. Just the two of us. And not for a candlelit dinner. "STARGROVE VERSUS NEIL ARMSTRONG!" Flustrod shouts. I glimpse a dozen gorblins grabbing the cage, then— "GIVE IT A SPIN..." Pillksort starts. "Please don't give it a spin..." I murmur, but the gorblins are readying themselves.

"AND LET THE FIGHT BEGIN!" With that, the cage is whirled like a top, and everything is a blur... Whoosh, I hate this stupid dimension. I'm flung around, completely helpless, no control over my body. I get a quick glimpse of Stargrove's upper arm, a split second before I smack into it and flip over it. I throw my arms out, but that does little to soften the impact as I careen into the wall. It feels like getting punched in the nose with a Buick.

It's quickly clear why Stargrove is undefeated: while I'm flipping and floating like... well... Neil Armstrong, her many arms keep her steadily buoyed. The audience is hollering and whooping. Seems like it's been a long while since they've enjoyed one of their beloved fights... Brown with the ball, fear in the sphere, punching in the globe, Punching in the globe doesn't rhyme. Steve, get with the program. I'm trying to figure out how to avoid another collision when the cage spins again. One of Stargrove's arms lashes out, clotheslining me with a fat whack to the throat. I'm gagging, doing a full midair somersault—

I slam into the cage wall again—and find myself face-to-face with Quint. Globlet, perched on his shoulder, tosses popcorn into her mouth. "YOU GUYS ARE OK!" I exclaim. "You're not," Globlet says, then pauses to chew. "You look like someone in trouble." "YES, I KNOW THAT!" I shout as I wrap my fingers around the bars of the cage. "Quint, I need one