Djinn Tamer - The Complete Bronze League Trilogy

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Djinn Tamer - The Complete Bronze League Trilogy Page 46

by Derek Alan Siddoway


  “Good morning, tamers,” the camp director said, “and welcome to the morning of the final challenge here at camp. As before, we have randomly inserted all of your names into a drawing and will use this process to select the order of tamers to compete in the obstacle course. No one can see what is on the course and parts of it are changed randomly for each new challenger. When you have completed the course, you will be escorted into the main camp headquarters until every tamer is finished. There, the final times and last camp ranking will be assigned. Forty of you will go home and twenty of you will prepare for the camp tournament.”

  Nobody really said anything. They all knew the stakes.

  “Right then,” the camp director said. “Let’s begin!”

  Jackson’s stomach clenched together as if in a vice. The sudden onset of nerves wasn’t entirely surprising but he’d been proud of how he’d managed his emotions throughout the morning. He felt his heart quicken as the screen begin to spin, selecting the first tamer to enter the maze.

  “Looks like…Miguel Sansez!”

  The Barrack 4 tamers looked at Miguel. He looked like he might throw up. As he ushered by, each of Jackson’s barrack mates wished him good luck.

  “Don’t choke, Sansez,” Akamu said. “You’ve managed to defy the odds and last this long — no reason to get beat out until I cream you in the tournament.”

  Jackson shot Akamu a dirty look but he didn’t notice it. “You’ll be fine,” Jackson told Miguel. “Represent!”

  Miguel made his way to the end of their row of chairs to the camp staff standing on either side of the archway. Coach Vanova waited there as well. She asked him if he was ready and, after a short nod and one last nervous glance back at the crowd, Miguel disappeared into the obstacle course.

  Unlike last time during the maze, a large clock on the fieldhouse wall to Jackson’s right displayed Miguel’s time. Of course, without any way of knowing what Miguel would be facing or how he would be scored on the obstacles, the time portion would only be a piece of his overall score. Still, Jackson was surprised when the buzzer sounded out after twelve minutes. For what looked to lie ahead behind the looming portable walls, it seemed like a decent time.

  After a few runs, it looked like twelves minutes was about the average time to complete the obstacle course — around the same time as it took to complete the maze. Because of the walls and the lack of sounds, there was no way of knowing what might be inside, but Jackson grew more nervous with each passing tamer that went ahead of him. After Miguel, Lucia, and Hayden, Akamu was finally called up.

  “In case I don’t see any of you losers later, peace out,” Akamu said with a smirk. Appleby, Fiona, Jackson, and Moto said nothing as Akamu turned away and strutted underneath the archway. His coach, a woman whom Jackson guessed was paid a very large sum by the Kaleos to put up with their son, waited for him under the archway. Whatever advice she tried to give him, Akamu looked to have ignored.

  As soon as Akamu disappeared across the threshold and his clock began, Jackson enjoyed every passing second. He secretly hoped Akamu would make some huge mistake, but his hopes were dashed when the buzzer sounded at ten minutes and fifteen seconds.

  “How is a total tool like that so good at taming?” Appleby asked, clearly irritated by the results.

  “It’s because his Djinn are almost as big of jerks as he is,” Fiona said. “They might not get along all that well, but they can relate to each other.”

  Although Jackson would have loved to join in on the argument, he couldn’t help but notice Moto Rine sitting a couple chairs down from them, staring at the floor.

  “Is, uh, everything okay, Moto?” Jackson asked. She didn’t look nervous exactly, just completely spaced out.

  It took Moto a long pause and another question before she realized Jackson was talking to her.

  “What? Oh, yeah. All good. Exactly where I want to be.”

  Her answer sounded like she was half asleep and before Jackson could ask anything else she resumed her stare at the turf field in front of her feet.

  “Do you think she’s on something?” Appleby asked in a loud whisper that Moto would have definitely heard if she hadn’t been so zoned out.

  Fiona and Jackson shushed him, but Moto didn’t seem to notice.

  “She definitely been acting odd since the challenge,” Fiona said. “Maybe the stress is getting to her — it can’t be easy being the daughter of the Rines.”

  As more tamers from the Barracks 2, 6, and 8 were called up, Jackson, Fiona, and Appleby sat in silence. Jackson soon became lost in his own thoughts and realized it was the first time the three of them had been alone — Moto didn’t really seem to count — since the Vance McAllister tournament. He hoped with all his heart that the outcome would be different this time around.

  Soon, only twenty or so tamers remained. Moto, Fiona, and Appleby were all called ahead of Jackson, posting times of ten minutes, ten and a half minutes and eleven minutes and fifteen seconds respectively.

  Jackson felt the pressure welling inside of him. By his calculations, he’d have to finish the course in at least eleven minutes flat, in addition to scoring well with each of the obstacles as well. The time ticked by and soon there were just over a dozen tamers left.

  “Jackson Hunt, you’re up next!”

  Jackson stood and his legs threatened to buckle underneath him. His stomach churned and his mouth felt dry. When he took a step, it was almost like he was walking in someone else’s body or his weight had suddenly been halved. Somehow, he made it up to the archway, clammy fingers digging into his palm to prevent them from shaking.

  “You’ve got this, kid,” Briggs said, clasping Jackson on his shoulder. “You know I’m not one to fill you full of BS — this course is yours for the taking. We’re in this.”

  There seemed to be more Briggs wanted to say — all of the coaches had been allowed to observe the course throughout the day — but of course, he wasn’t allowed to give away any secrets. Jackson nodded. Briggs gave him one more clap on the back.

  At the arch, Coach Vanova was waiting for him. “You know, Hunt,” she said, “I didn’t think you were up to the challenge when we started camp. But I’m happy to say I was wrong. No reason to be nervous. Get out there and get it done.”

  The surprising and unexpected vote of confidence lifted Jackson’s spirits a little. He thanked the Barrack 4 coach and then let out a long sigh. Stepping up to the line, he bounced back and forth on each foot in an effort to pump himself up. Both Djinn rings let out a small pulse of light and warmth, as if Asena and Scrappy were giving him their support as well.

  “The time starts as soon as you cross the line,” Vanova said. “Good luck.”

  For the briefest of moments, Jackson felt frozen in place. Then a sudden calm came over him, and he stepped across the starting line.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A horn sounded and Jackson let loose both of his Djinn while running full speed ahead. He soon hit a ramp and continued up onto a platform about ten feet off the ground. The first trial appeared immediately, a series of tilted platforms spaced intermittently between one another above a long pool of water.

  Jackson and Asena skidded to a halt at the end of the platform while Scrappy flapped overhead. Although he couldn’t see it, Jackson could almost feel the clock ticking inside of his head. It was clear he wasn’t supposed to fall into the water, but no one had warned him about any penalties if he messed up on the obstacles.

  Deciding to seize the moment, Jackson leaped and landed on all fours on the first platform. It started to tilt and buck wildly, but he focused on the one ahead that was completely steady. Jackson took only enough time to gather his feet underneath him before jumping to the next tilted platform.

  The second platform tilted like it was on a hinge and went completely vertical. Only Jackson’s reflexes and strength kept him from falling off. Muscles straining, he glanced back and saw Asena pacing back and forth at the edge of the main platform, w
atching him in distress. He also saw the first of the smaller platforms he’d jumped on and an idea came to his mind.

  “Asena, jump!”

  Jackson shouted the words, too busy focusing on not falling in the water to send Asena a mental command. Asena sprang to Jackson’s bidding at once and landed on the platform. As soon as her weight was on it, Jackson’s platform began to level out. When it finally reached a flat enough angle, he let go of his death grip and laid on the platform to catch his breath.

  His break proved to be short-lived. A moment later, both he and Asena’s platforms started trembling again. Panic set in once more and Jackson looked ahead at the remaining to platforms between them and the other side. Another idea came to him and he mentally commanded Scrappy to fly ahead and land on the platform in front of him. The bird complied at once and, although he hardly weighed more than a pair of shoes, Scrappy’s weight caused the platforms to cease moving.

  Jackson took a moment to gather his thoughts and figure out how they were going to move forward. His platform had just enough wobble in it that he didn’t dare have Asena jump to him as well — he had a sneaking suspicion the weight of a tamer and Djinn would topple the platform faster than he could say Lyote.

  Instead, Jackson decided to time their next jumps rather than one after the other.

  “One…two…three!”

  On three, Scrappy flapped ahead to the fourth platform, Jackson jumped to the third and Asena leaped to the second. The platforms held steady.

  Yes!

  Jackson’s celebration was cut short almost as soon as it had begun. In his excitement, Scrappy got carried away and flapped to the far side, off of his platform. Almost at once, Jackson and Asena’s platforms heaved. Jackson threw himself forward and barely managed to grab the edge of the next platform. He scrambled on top of it — fortunately, it didn’t tip over sideways — and twisted his head behind his shoulder to check on Asena. Luckily, she’d been able to hold her position on the next platform as well. After shooting a dirty look at Scrappy, who cawed in apparent confusion at Jackson’s ire, Jackson and Asena hopped forward onto the far side of the first obstacle.

  How long had that taken? Jackson didn’t know and didn’t want to waste time thinking about it. He ran forward, Scrappy and Asena trailing him, to the next obstacle. This time, they were greeted with a tall wall with divots and outcrops that looked like the artificial climbing wall from the rec center in Tyle. Instead of every spot being a hand hold, however, Jackson saw what looked like two climbing aids that could be held in each hand. Both were at the top of the wall.

  Jackson commanded Scrappy to fly up, but when the Magglecaw tried to pry one out with his beak, it held firm. When Jackson attempted to climb the wall without them, a warning buzzer sounded. He pulled his hands back at once. The message was clear — he needed the two grips.

  Growing frustrated, Jackson wracked his mind for an idea.

  Think…think…

  Nothing he’d done in camp had prepared him for this. Desperate, he commanded Scrappy to attack.

  Mocking Wind!

  Scrappy flapped his wings faster and faster until a torrent of blasts struck the wall. As soon as the attack hit the grips, the right one popped out. Jackson reached up and snatched it before it could hit the deck and bounce off the platform. The second grip remained firmly in place.

  All right, another Mocking Wind!

  Another blast from Scrappy’s wings hit the left grip. Nothing happened.

  Okay…Asena, Fire Bark!

  Asena tipped her head back and let out a yip. The resulting fireball shot upward and struck the grip like it was the bullseye of a target. Much to Jackson’s relief, the remaining grip popped out. Jackson grabbed it as well — luckily it wasn’t hot enough to burn his hand — and scaled the wall in short order. Now about thirty feet off of the fieldhouse ground, Jackson looked forward at their next obstacle.

  The platform narrowed ahead — no more than six feet wide. In the middle of the path sat a large, heavy weight that was as wide as the deck, leaving no way around it. A rope hung from the center of the weight to the rafter above in the top of the fieldhouse. The obstacle seemed to be clear, judging by the white and black checkered flag Jackson could see sticking off the far side of the narrow platform where it widened again. It looked like all they had to do was push the weight across the line and the course was done.

  Commanding Scrappy to hold back, Jackson charged forward and braced himself against the weight. As expected, it didn’t budge at all. He backed up and had both Scrappy and Asena hit it with a Mocking Wind and a Fire Bark. Nothing.

  Jackson braced himself against the weight in a pushing position and then commanded Asena to hit the weight with a Headbutt attack. His faithful Lyote struck the weight and Jackson felt the platform give a little.

  “Again!” he shouted to Asena while he braced and pushed. She struck the weight and it moved another few inches.

  While Asena continued her pushing and Headbutting, Jackson commanded Scrappy to hit the weight head-on with a steady stream of his Mocking Wind attack. The gust blew like a storm around Jackson and Asena, but Scrappy held the angle steady and the weight moved even more.

  Jackson risked a glanced up. They were about halfway across the narrow walkway. He knew one mistake from Scrappy would send either he or Asena flying off the platform into the safety foam pads below. There seemed to be no way back up — a fall like that would mean a huge delay penalty or outright disqualification.

  Steady, Jackson told Scrappy mentally while he gritted his teeth and heaved against the weight with all his might. Sweat dripped down his face from the obstacles and his entire body burned.

  Steady, boy, we’re almost —

  Scrappy let out an impatient caw and redoubled his attack. A powerful, turbulent wind struck Jackson and whipped his feet out from underneath him. He landed hard on his elbow and rolled over just in time to see Asena skidding toward the side of the walkway.

  Jackson shouted and scrambled forward. He lunged and managed to grab a tuft of Asena’s fur at the same moment she went over the edge. His body lurched forward but he clung tight. Asena’s full weight pulled on his arm and shoulder and Jackson let out a shout of pain. Fingers burning, he managed to roll over onto his stomach without being pulled off the platform. Asena struggled and yipped in his grip.

  “Grab me by the pant leg!” Jackson shouted to Scrappy between clenched teeth and then winced as the Magglecaw’s beak nipped at the back of his calf. After a few seconds, he could feel Scrappy’s weight helping. It gave him enough of a break to grab Asena by the scruff of her neck with his other hand and haul her back onto the platform.

  Jackson rolled onto his back and gasped for air. Luckily, he’d built plenty of muscle working at Sato long before the rigors and workouts of camp. That, and Asena was more fluffy orange and cream fur than weight. Before he could sit up, a blast of fire shot past his ear and struck Scrappy full on. Asena crouched low, growling with her hackles raised and Jackson jumped to his feet to separate her from the charred, dazed Magglecaw.

  Enough! Let’s get this weight moved. We’re not done!

  Not even bothering to see if his two Djinn would help, Jackson threw himself at the weight with reckless abandon. He had no idea how much time had passed, but knew they’d wasted valuable minutes with the near disaster

  Asena and Scrappy doubled down on their efforts too. The sudden force of their exertion took Jackson by surprise but he didn’t let up. One leg in front of the other, he drove the weight forward. Sweat dripped into his eyes and burned, matching the fire in his entire body. Feeling himself give out, Jackson roared and gave a final heave with the last of his strength.

  A horn sounded. Jackson fell to his knees and saw the white and black checkered line between his legs. They’d done it.

  Shaking, Jackson pulled himself upright. White spots filled his vision and his legs felt like he was out on a boat. Scrappy and Asena looked just as beat and sat with he
ads and tails bowed. Jackson hesitated and then looked up at the blank screen above the end of the platform.

  He expected the time to fill the blank screen, but there was nothing.

  After taking a few more seconds to catch his breath, Jackson descended down the back side of the platform, Scrappy and Asena close behind. Briggs and Coach Vanova were waiting when he reached the bottom. Jackson tried to read their expressions to get an idea on how he’d done, but they neither gave anything away.

  “Not bad,” Briggs said. “Could have been better — you were on pace to be the fastest completion minus those two little hangups.”

  “What’s my time?” Jackson asked Coach Vanova. At this point, that was all that mattered. The past was the past — he couldn’t change how his team had done in the obstacle course.

  “They’re not being posted yet, Hunt,” Vanova said. “As soon as everyone finishes, the barrack coaches will meet with the tamers in their house individually. For now, go get your Djinn checked out and get something to eat.”

  The last thing Jackson wanted to do was try to eat something at the moment, but he had his Djinn checked out and then returned to the barracks to clean up and await his fate. The common room was only half full when he returned — Hayden, Appleby, and Lucia sat together around one of the sectional couches, discussing the course.

  “Hey!” Appleby said when he saw Jackson come through the sliding doors. “You’re done! How did it go?”

  Jackson shrugged. “It wasn’t bad — I think? They’re not telling me much. How about for you guys?”

 

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