Read Online George R.R. Martin - [Wild Cards 18] by Inside Straight - Free Book Online

among the spectators. He seemed so happy. The sight of him settled her.
    Smoothing her hands on her jeans, she went to face the judges. The three looked so with-it, so assured of themselves. They’d recovered quickly from their encounter with Spasm, and their gazes were almost bored. Who could blame them? Surely they’d seen everything by now.
    Downs asked, “What is it you do, Ana?”
    She’d said it a hundred times by now. “I dig holes.”
    “You dig holes.” His expression was blank.
    “Yeah.”
    “Well.” He shuffled some papers in front of him. “Let’s see you dig a hole.”
    She stood alone at the edge of the field, a hundred yards of green spread before her. She’d never had an audience like this—not since she was little, digging mazes in the playground, when all the neighbors gathered and whispered,
brujita, es una brujita de la tierra
. This crowd didn’t make a sound. The silence marked thick anticipation.
    She closed her eyes so she couldn’t see them.
    Kneeling, she touched her medallion, then put her hands on the ground.
    Had to be big. Something flashy. The holes she dug for work—nobody could see how far down they went. So she had to do something else. It didn’t need to be precise, no one here was measuring. Turn the hole sideways, and dig it fast.
    Now.
    Particles moved under her hands, the dirt shifting away from her. The ground rumbled as it might in an earthquake. It vibrated under her, no longer solid, sounding like the soft roar of a distant waterfall. She opened her eyes just as a trench raced away from her. In seconds a cleft opened, splitting the earth to the opposite end zone. A hundred yards. Wide and gaping, it was four feet deep, angled like a steep canyon. Earthwork ridges piled up on either side, and a gray film of dust floated in the air above it. She’d cracked open the earth like an egg.
    A few spectators coughed. The air was thick and smelled of chalk. She breathed out a sigh. Her heart was racing, either from the nerves or the effort. Her hands, still planted on the ground, were trembling, like they still felt the vibrations of the earth. She brushed them together, wiping the dust off.
    Still, no one said anything. Ana didn’t know what to do next. Stand up, she supposed. Go home. She’d shown them her trick, done what Roberto wanted her to do. Now he could take her home, as soon as the judges told her to leave.
    The judges were staring. Ana realized: the whole crowd was staring, wide eyed, eerily silent.
    She stared back for a long time before Downs pointed his pen at her. “You’re in.”
    When he met her outside, the first thing Roberto said to her was, “Told you so.”

    The next week passed in a haze. The production company took care of everything—plane tickets, schedules, publicity. Even a stipend. She gave the whole check to Roberto. They weren’t going to have her pay anymore, at least not until she got back. She assumed she’d get back quickly—that she wouldn’t win.
    The production assistant with the tattoos, who called herself Ink, wanted to know what Ana’s name was. The show seemed to have hundreds of assistants, each with their own little task, clipboards and cell phones never far away.
    “Your ace name,” Ink explained. “What we’re going to call you on the show.”
    “I don’t have an ace name,” Ana said—then realized she did. She always had. She’d just ignored it.
    “Well, we need to come up with one. Any ideas?”
    “
Brujita
—” she started to say, then changed her mind. That was a name for a little girl. If she was going to do this, she ought to do it right.
“La Bruja de la Tierra
. That’s what people call me.”
    Ink frowned. “That’s kind of a mouthful. What is that, Spanish?”
    “Uh, yeah.”
    “What’s it mean?”
    “Witch. Witch of the Earth.”
    “Earth Witch.” She scribbled on her clipboard. “Yeah, cool, that’s great.”
    She walked off before Ana could argue.

    She’d grown up in a rickety