Jackson rolled his eyes. “Glad to know some people will never change.”
“Oh!” Tak said, pointing to Akamu dramatically. “And if you happen to find a bag of Lutrotter crap hidden in your room somewhere, it’s definitely not mine and I have no idea how it got there.”
“Wait, what?” Akamu said, his face slowly distorting into a scowl. But it was too late; Tak was out the door and riding away on a cart.
Any elation Jackson felt about his performance during the maze challenge soon faded when the next week of camp rolled around. Players were given half a day on Saturday and all day Sunday off, but when Monday morning rolled around, it was right back into the fire.
Mornings began with individual exercises and light drills, followed by mock battles every afternoon. Now that they’d established a foundation with drills and conditioning, the focus shifted to the actual strategies and tactics that would be employed in battle. Most of the fights were one-on-one within the barracks and only went until what they called third HP — whichever opposing Djinn got down to a third of its HP first. That reduced the strain and added recovery of knockouts but also frustrated tamers like Akamu to no end.
“Why even bother if we aren’t playing to a KO?” he asked Coach Vanova after she’d ripped him out for going too far with his Tandile in a fight. “They don’t play any of the battles in League to first touch!”
Each time he saw the Tandile in action, Jackson felt a little less jealous that he hadn’t caught the Djinn. The Tandile was a nasty Djinn that seemed perfectly suited for its master. Neither Akamu nor the Tandile seemed overly fond of one another but they did make a deadly duo. Although Akamu had trained with his Flogadra for years, he proved just as lethal with the Tandile.
But Jackson had enough of his own problems to think too much about Akamu’s dynamic with his Djinn. There’d been a shift in Scrappy and Asena since the maze — he wasn’t sure if it was due to the brief expansion of their telepathic connection or their shared trials in the maze, but the Djinn no longer tried to kill one another when in battle together.
Of course, that didn’t mean they were the duo of the camp, either. Instead of attacking one another, both still worked individually to win the fight as if working to impress him on their own. This caused plenty of problems, like when Scrappy would dive in to attack of his own volition right when Jackson commanded Asena to release a Fire Bark, causing the Magglecaw to roast himself and provide handy shield for the opposing Djinn. Asena had run into her share of Scrappy’s Mocking Wind attacks as well when she refused to hold back against a weakening opponent.
Unfortunately, Briggs told Jackson there was no way to mentally communicate to more than one Djinn at a time. Jackson showed quite the skill at his level for toggling back and forth between commands for Asena and Scrappy, but he would have given anything for a way to give commands to both at once. He felt sure that would help the situation.
“Sorry kid, there’s not a shortcut this time,” Briggs said. “You’ve just go to work on their trust, for you and each other. Like I’ve said before, that’s just going to take them battling together.”
On the bright side, though, there were rare moments when it all came together. Once, only partially by accident, Jackson managed to command his two Djinn into a powerful combo move of Fire Bark and Mocking Wind. The resulting Fire Tornado completely toasted Miguel’s Katasolum in one hit.
A vibration on his holo-watch indicated that both Asena and Scrappy had learned Fire Tornado, which sapped both Djinn of 10 EP. He wondered if it would work every time, or if the state of the Djinn’s relationship with one another played a factor into whether or not the move could be executed. Jackson didn’t fully understand it yet, but it was still damn cool. Even the dressing down Jackson got from Coach Vanova for the knockout had been worth it.
In that one brief moment, Jackson felt a small portion of what he assumed it was like for the high-level tamers when they went into a battle. Most of the time, it seemed more like he was unsuccessfully juggling knives.
Although some of the tamers in Barrack 4 complained about the repetitive nature of battling day after day, Jackson couldn’t get enough. To him, each practice bout was another chance to test his Djinn together, to expand his strategies as a tamer and to learn about some of the opposing Djinn he would no doubt be facing when the camp tournament came around.
When Thursday rolled around, Coach Vanova surprised the tamers with some new information regarding the week’s challenge. They’d known all along that their barrack would be facing off against another but there was an added twist thrown into the mix.
“Barrack 4 will select one representative to fight against a representative of Barrack 8,” Vanova said. “While this will have no impact on your personal scores, the outcome of the match will determine which barracks are given immunity for the third week.”
The tamers exploded in a dozen questions, shouting over one another until Coach Vanova blew her whistle and held up a hand.
“Quiet!” She pointed to Fiona. “You first, Sato.”
“This doesn’t even make any sense,” Fiona said. “What’s the point of assessing only one of us during a fight? How does that help you pick the best tamers? And how does giving an entire barrack immunity make sure only the strongest make it?”
Coach Vanova smiled. “Sato, you think we’ve only been assessing tamers during the challenge days? Every single drill, skirmish and exercise we go through, a member of camp staff is grading how well you perform and how well you handle the task. Barrack immunity might save you this week, but if you don’t perform well next, you’ll still be out in the individual ranks.”
They all looked at one another, clearly confused, although no one else seemed to want to challenge Vanova on the matter. Jackson was starting to think that half of training camp’s purpose was just to completely screw with the tamers mentally to see who could handle the pressure.
It seemed that everyone’s questions had been some variation of Fiona’s because no one else spoke up. Coach Vanova looked at each of them in turn.
“You will decide as a group which tamer will represent you in the challenge. I’ll ask for your selection tomorrow morning before the matches begin. Get some rest.”
As soon as Vanova left, the tamers broke out into a heated discussion concerning who would represent them for the upcoming challenge. Naturally, Akamu was loudest and pushed for himself. When Lucia asked him why in the world he should be the representative, he sighed like it was a painfully obvious fact of life that he was trying to explain to a bunch of toddlers.
“I’m the most advanced tamer here and I’ve got the strongest Djinn. What more do you need?”
“Someone who isn’t a major tool and actually cares about everyone else in the barrack?” Miguel suggested. Hayden, Lucia, and Appleby all nodded.
Akamu threw his hands up in the air as if he were the victim of a grave injustice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted to lose. Who are you going to pick then? Jackie boy here, who can’t even keep his Djinn from trying to mate with one another during a match?”
Jackson felt his face turn red and he clenched his hands into tight fists. Akamu loudly pondered to anyone within hearing distance if perhaps Asena and Scrappy didn’t hate each other after all, and instead they were trying to express their raging lust for one another by fighting during battles.
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” Appleby said. “ Jackson — why don’t you represent us?”
“Um…”
Jackson didn’t know what to say but before he could gather his thoughts, Akamu cut in. “No. No way am I going to let him lose and cost us immunity.”
“Let’s put it to a vote,” Hayden suggested. “Whoever gets the most votes represents us.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best way to decide,” Fiona said. Jackson looked at Fiona in surprise. She shrugged at him. “No offense, Jackson. You’ve come a long way with your Djinn, but the battle might be scored not only on the
outcome but technique and strategy throughout. We can’t afford to lose just because your Djinn decide they don’t like each other again.”
“Oh, and I’m sure you want to volunteer yourself to be the tamer for Barrack 4?” Miguel said, unexpectedly coming to Jackson’s defense before Jackson could even get offended by Fiona’s comments. “I’m not going to vote for you just so you can get a little more glory!”
“Glory?” Fiona said. “Since when have I ever been about glory?”
“Yeah, thanks for the back-up, Miguel, but that’s never really been Fiona,” Jackson said.
“Who said I was backing you up?” Miguel said. “I mean, I guess I am, but I’d just like someone who hasn’t had everything handed to her on a silver platter her whole life represent us.”
The next few minutes descended into complete chaos as the tamers argued back and forth with one another. Whenever someone seemed to reach a solution to the problem, someone else found an issue with it. The longer the conversation went, the more Jackson didn’t want to be the tamer picked. But he also didn’t want to see Fiona or Akamu selected to represent them.
Just when it seemed that they’d never be able to agree on a tamer, Jackson spotted Moto Rine sitting away from the arguing group across the commons. An idea came to him and he loudly cut in on the heated debate.
“Hey — hey! Everyone shut up! Shut it!”
Everyone paused, surprised by the outburst. Jackson suddenly felt self-conscious with everyone’s attention on him. He cleared his throat. “I uh…I think Moto should be our representative.”
The other tamers looked at Moto, who glanced up from her personal holo-feed for the first time since Coach Vanova had left the barrack. “Huh? Oh, sure.”
“You mean you’ll do it?” Hayden said.
“Sure,” Moto said. “If you can’t find anyone else, I can do it.”
Akamu looked indignant. “Doesn’t — is anyone listening to this? Why should we pick her? She doesn’t care if she wins or not!”
“Let’s settle it with a vote, like we talked about before,” Appleby said. He tapped a couple of screen projections on his watch and pulled up a survey app. Moments later, he’d sent it to everyone in the group. “Pick who you want — the voting is anonymous. Sound fair?”
Akamu grumbled something about Djinn battling not being fair, but everyone ignored him. Jackson’s finger hovered over the different options. On the one hand, he knew he had a chance of being the representative for Barrack 4. On the other hand, his nagging sense of doubt made him hesitant. A moment later the feeling was replaced by anger. Why should he doubt himself? Dozens of perfectly capable trainers had already been sent home, and he was still there. He had just as much of a right to lead Barrack 4 as any of them. His finger hovered over his selection a moment and then Jackson tapped the screen, careful no one else saw his vote.
After a couple minutes of quiet pondering, everyone completed their vote and Appleby pulled up the results.
“All right,” he said, scrolling through the results, “It looks like we’ve got three votes for Jackson, one for Akamu, one for Fiona and three for Moto…so there’s a tie.”
“In that case shouldn’t we do a revote with just those two?” Lucia asked.
The other tamers nodded. Akamu just shook his head like they’d all doomed themselves by not picking him.
Once more, Appleby sent the poll out. Jackson stared down at the two names, his and Moto’s. In the first round, he’d voted for Moto. Part of him hated himself for not trusting in his abilities, while the other half told him it would be better to bide his time. No need to show everyone all of his strategies before the final competition that determined the actual roster result. Once more, his cautious side won out and he voted for Moto.
Appleby tapped his projector and the result lit up before them. Jackson: 3, Moto: 5.
They had their champion.
Chapter Twenty-Four
After suffering a restless and anxious sleep, Jackson woke, opting to head down early to squeeze in some extra studying. He was surprised to find Hayden, Appleby, and Fiona all already awake. All three of them gathered around one of the holo-screens and Jackson realized with a twist of his stomach that the week’s rankings must have been posted ahead of the fight. It didn’t take long to find his name down among the bottom ten, in spite of his solid maze run.
“Oh, come on, man. It’s not that bad,” Hayden said when Jackson swore. “You’re not rock bottom — I’m right down there with you!”
Hayden’s comments didn’t help much. Jackson felt he hadn’t done that bad throughout the week — both Scrappy and Asena continued to improve and their team was coming together, slowly but surely. Okay, maybe extra slowly, but Jackson had faith they’d finally passed an important point. Apparently, the camp coaches thought otherwise.
“What’s up — oh, the rankings!” Miguel soon squeezed in around them and seemed pleased to find his name in the middle of the list. “Hey! Not so bad, eh? Man, Jackson, what did you do to piss off the camp coaches this week? You better hope Moto pulls through, you and Hayden are gonna need that immunity, son!”
Jackson caught Fiona’s eye. She didn’t say or do anything to suggest she was happy about his placement, but then again, sitting in the top five, she really didn’t have anything to worry about. With the amount of points Fiona had, it would take a serious catastrophe to knock her out of contention. Jackson knew she was vying for the number one position in camp and she still had a great chance of getting it. He, on the other hand, just needed to find a way to scrape by for another week. It wasn’t quite the way he’d imagined their rivalry continuing in the pros.
Soon, the rest of the barrack filed in and looked at their scores. When Akamu found Jackson’s name, he shook his head and tsked, a dour expression on his face as if he were disappointed in Jackson. “You’re going to wish you’d voted for me to fight by the time the day is over, I think.”
“You’re acting like I was voted the group’s representative,” Jackson said.
“No, but —”
“Just shut up, Akamu. We don’t need to hear it from you this morning,” Moto said, her voice more stern than usual. Was she actually nervous?
Following Coach Vanova’s instructions, they left the barrack at eight and crossed the grounds to the fieldhouse. Inside, the walls and maze were gone, revealing four Djinn battle arenas marked out. One was covered in sand, one with grass, another, turf and the last, pine needles. As soon as everyone was assembled, the camp staff randomly assigned each of the chosen tamers to one of the arenas. Moto faced off against Barrack 8’s Raz Khatri on the sand field. Jackson vaguely recognized him as the first kid he saw tackle the maze the previous week.
The matches were scheduled to take place one at a time. Unlike most of the one-on-one matches between the barracks, these special ones would be fought to KO (“Aww, come on!” Akamu grumbled to himself upon hearing this announcement).
Since Moto was second, Jackson had the opportunity to watch a match between two tamers from Barracks 3 and 6. They seemed evenly matched, but Jackson felt like he would have had a relatively easy time against either of them. A quick glance at his watch made his stomach sink when he saw they were from the less-successful barracks and in the bottom half of the rankings like him. The match ended in just under five minutes when the female tamer from Barrack 6 knocked out the Lambaa and Bobbity of Barrack 3. She’d been lucky and scored a couple of critical hits and hadn’t even needed to use her second Djinn.
When Moto took her place on the sand across from Raz, all of the tamers from Barrack 4 except Akamu stood up to cheer her on. Across the arena, all of the personal coaches for the Barracks 4 and 8 staff watched as well, while a panel of judges from camp staff watched from above in a hover pod connected to the corners of the fieldhouse with cables. A pair of video drones buzzed around the arena, displaying the match on the two big screens located at each end of the fieldhouse. Although the details was immaculate — the sc
reens were larger than the floor plan of Jackson’s apartment back home — Jackson watched the battle itself.
A bell rang and both tamers released their first Djinn. Moto went with what Jackson had guessed was her secondary Djinn, a Scorbble. Raz released a Cryano, a Water-Elemental Djinn that looked similar to Asena.
“Looks like a pretty even match,” Fiona said. Jackson could tell she had a chip on her shoulder from not being voted in as the representative, but she still sat on the edge of her seat, eagerly watching the fight. “The Water and Earth Elements are neutral against each other. It’s going to come down to whoever has the most skill in Plain attacks and which of the other two Djinn have the Elemental advantage.”
The sandy floor of the arena played well into the hands of Moto’s Scorbble, Sebastian, and the Djinn burrowed into the sand in a flash of pincers. A moment later, even his stinging tail disappeared below the ground. Rather than trying to evade the attack, Raz commanded his Cryano to unleash a fountain of water all around it, creating a large puddle. The Scorbble burst through the wet sand in a spray but something about the standing water must have thrown off its senses because the Cryano only took a glancing blow.
“That was some quick thinking on Raz’s part,” Appleby said. Jackson nodded, afraid to take his eyes off the fight in case he missed something; anything that might give him an edge over Raz or Moto later on.
The two Djinn exchanged blows back and forth until it became apparent this would be a drawn-out fight between two quality tamers and well-matched Djinn. Jackson noticed that Moto, while commanding her Scorbble with ease, seemed almost bored with the bout. She displayed none of the animation, excitement or focus of a tamer caught up in the heat of the battle. Instead, it appeared she was just going through the motions. He guessed she wasn’t actually nervous this morning. Maybe she was just annoyed with Akamu.
Jackson couldn’t find too much fault, though — no matter how jealous he was of her skills — because it was working. Moto’s Scorbble blasted the Cryano with a face full of sand and then closed in, pincers flailing. Raz lost his concentration and broke off his mental connection, screaming at his Djinn to get clear of the sand. Too late. The Scorbble latched onto the Cryano and struck with its stinger; once, twice. A moment later, Raz’s Djinn wobbled and fell to the ground.
Djinn Tamer - The Complete Bronze League Trilogy Page 44