“Fiona, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”
She folded her arms and didn’t seems to feel the least bit sorry for him. “What about Appleby?”
Anthony Barranco, or Appleby, as he was known as, was a tamer the same age as Fiona and Jackson. They’d competed against him in the Underground and Jackson had become friends with him as the trained together. He’d been in the Vance McAllister invitational and Bronze League Training Camp but hadn’t made the cut to the final roster to make the League proper. And Jackson had already thought of him.
“He’s in some developmental league tournament right now that won’t finish in time to catch a flight.”
Fiona pursed her lips. “Oh, so I’m your last resort, huh?”
Jackson laughed, but he didn’t know if Fiona was joking.
“I didn’t ask Tak or Akamu, if that makes you feel better.”
Fiona grinned at that and Jackson thought he might have her.
“I’m desperate,” he continued.
“If you ever write a biography, I’m pretty sure that would be the title.”
“Look at it this way,” Jackson said as a new idea popped into his head. “If you don’t come with me to Lombardia and help me, I’ll be at a disadvantage with Asena. Whenever we fight, you’ll never know if you’re beating me because you’re better than me or if it’s just because Asena’s growth was stunted. We’ll never know who’s really the best.”
“Wow,” Fiona said. “This is getting sad for you. I already know I’m the best. I don’t need to prove it.”
Jackson had used a similar argument on Briggs to get him to start training Jackson again when he’d first found out Vance was Fiona’s coach. No matter what Fiona said, he could tell he’d at least got her thinking.
Or so he’d thought.
“Good luck on your trip,” she said, shutting the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Jackson sat hunched over in his seat at the Granite Regional Airport, reviewing his mom’s research notes and proposal for the dozenth time. Kay had gone off to find something for breakfast before their long flight, leaving Jackson alone with Asena and Scrappy. Flight regulations didn’t allow any Djinn outside of their rings on any commercial aircraft, so Jackson had let them out to stretch their legs/wings before they had to go into stasis. Scrappy perched on the back of Jackson’s chair, content to preen his feathers and doze in the morning sun shining in through the windows. Asena, on the other hand, had her nose right in the middle of Jackson’s research projection and wagged her tail whenever the copious documents included a diagram of a Lyote.
Asena pushed through the projection and licked Jackson’s nose because he’d been staring too close to the holo-screen. He smiled and minimized the research paper on his holo-watch to scratch his Djinn behind her ears. It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d first let the scared, half-wild Lyote out of her Djinn ring in his mother’s old office. Back before they’d lost the house, before he’d been through training camp, and before a season spent as a tamer in the Bronze League of the DBL. Jackson didn’t want to lose those memories and lose what he had with Asena.
While continuing to scratch Asena, Jackson twisted around to look at Scrappy on the back of his seat. Evolution had definitely changed the Scoundrook in ways Jackson would never have thought of. As a Magglecaw, Scrappy was full of mischief, constantly flying around and getting into trouble — mainly antagonizing Asena. Now, in his Intermediate form, Scrappy seemed to have gone from a hyperactive energetic kid to a vain teenager. Djinn didn’t age like people, but Jackson had no other way to put it. The Scoundrook obsessed with cleaning his feathers and, while he was still happy-go-lucky, some of Scrappy’s mischievous curiosity was gone.
There were physical changes too — whereas Scrappy had short stubby wings and legs as a Magglecaw, as a Scoundrook, the Djinn looked much more elegant — like the difference between a wheelbarrow and a limousine. Jackson couldn’t deny the advantages, though. In addition to new taunts and Elemental attacks, Scrappy’s physical attacks were also greatly heightened by his larger talons, sharper, longer beak, and bigger wings. Although he was still competing at the Bronze League, Jackson felt he’d done pretty well to take a common Magglecaw and raise him into the roguish fighter Scrappy was now.
A loud cough brought Jackson out of his daydreaming. He turned and saw the last person he would have expected standing in front of his row of seats, complete with a backpack and duffel bag.
“You’re going to need to pay better attention than that if you don’t want to get eaten by some wild Djinn in Lombardia.”
Jackson stared, at a loss for words. Fiona laughed and sat down in the seat next to him. “Oh come on, it can’t be that big of a shock.”
“I — thanks for coming,” Jackson said, hoping the words came out as heartfelt as they were meant to be. “It means a lot.”
Fiona pulled back in mock surprise, her expression looking like he’d just starting growing fangs or something. “Whoa, don’t go getting all soft on me now! And don’t think you don’t owe me for this, Jackson, because you owe me big. I just don’t want to hear any crying when I beat you to a pulp in the Battle Royale, okay?”
Down between Jackson’s legs, Asena let out a short growl before lying her head back down between her paws.
“You better be careful,” Jackson said. “Lyotes have long memories — Asena’s still waiting for her chance to get back at you and Rebel.”
Fiona grinned. “Bring it.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” Jackson said. “But a message wouldn’t have hurt. We didn’t get you any plane tickets.”
“I bought my own. There’s only one flight to Ocros a day, so I figured my odds were good.”
“That couldn’t have been cheap.”
“Well,” she said. “ Actually, my parents bought them for me,”
“Your parents?” Jackson asked. “Why?”
“My mom and dad asked why you stopped by,” Fiona said with a shrug. “When I told them where you were going and what it was for, they told me I was crazy for not going along. I might not be all that into breeding anymore, but the opportunity to see rare Djinn in Lombardia and learn more about the evolution of a Lyote will still make me a better tamer.”
“Well, to be clear, I’m hoping not to evolve her.”
Fiona just shrugged.
Now that he had her in person, he wanted to mention something about the awards ceremony. It didn’t seem like a good time to press his luck, though. At least not until Fiona was stuck on Lombardia with him, for better or worse. As if sensing Jackson’s thoughts, Fiona grew quiet as well and the awkward silence grew between them once more. He realized that, other than his stopping by her house, it was the first they’d spent any time together in person outside of taming since…
“Look, I’m sorry about —”
Fiona held up a hand to cut Jackson off. “I’ve only got one condition about this trip, okay? I don’t want to talk about…that. The Battle Royale is coming up and neither of us needs the distraction. Got it?”
“What distraction? Also, hello? Glad you could make it. Change your mind?”
Jackson felt his heart leap into his throat. Kay had picked just about the worst possible timing to return with her breakfast burrito. He started stammering to come up with an answer, but Fiona had it covered.
“Yeah, my parents convinced me. Anyway, we were just talking about the Silver League,” Fiona said. “I told Jackson to focus on one thing at a time.”
Kay gave them both an odd look but seemed more intrigued with her food. She sat down across from them and started devouring the burrito. To avoid looking at Fiona or eliciting any more inquiries from Kay, Jackson double-checked everything in his bag.
“Where did you get that?” Fiona asked as he withdrew a small gray velvet ball. The ball had a button at its middle that connected its top and bottom halves. It fit neatly in Jackson’s palm, but was easily the most expensive item he was bring
ing with him on the trip.
Jackson pressed a button on the ball and it opened to reveal a ring sitting in the padded interior. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to have an extra Djinn ring on hand for a trip like this.”
“I thought we were focusing on Asena,” Fiona said. “Now you’re telling me you’re hunting for a new Djinn too?”
“Hey,” Jackson said. “Don’t be jealous because I’m being smart!”
Fiona shook her head. “How do you even plan on taming another Djinn while we’re there? Isn’t this some sort of protected reserve?”
“I called ahead to the Djinn Protective Agency. They have a shortlist of un-endangered Djinn that inhabit the island. Any of those can be captured like normal Djinn.”
“Well, now you tell me!” Fiona said. “I don’t suppose you considered that I might like to add another Djinn to my roster?”
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Jackson said.
Further argument was saved as the loud speakers clicked on announcing the boarding of their flight. Jackson recalled both Asena and Scrappy into their rings and picked up his stuff. Meanwhile, Kay was shoving the rest of her burrito down as fast as possible.
“You can eat that on the plane, you know,” Jackson said.
“I don’t want to carry it,” she said, her mouth full. Her Fenkit, Sunshine, sat beneath her, grabbing at any scraps that fell out of the tinfoil wrapping onto the floor.
“I meant what I said,” Fiona continued, still obviously irate about the possibility of Jackson catching a rare Djinn on the trip. “You owe me for this. You owe me big.”
The first leg of their journey involved a ten-hour flight from Granite to another small airport located in the country of Ocros. The flight went pretty well by Jackson’s estimation. All three of their seats were in separate rows. After stuffing herself and putting Sunshine away in one of Briggs’s old borrowed rings, Kay promptly fell asleep. Fiona decided her next tactic would be to ignore Jackson, which allowed him plenty of time to review all tamers he would be competing against in the Battle Royale. He’d fought most of them at least once during the season, but during the course of the Bronze League, many had added new Djinn, had some of their Djinn evolve, or had shown off new battle moves in later matches.
As promised, the DBL had also sent additional information about the new format, which Jackson went over word by word, looking for any hints or ideas that he could use to formulate his strategy. There were still some questions left to be answered, which the document promised would be answered in the days leading up to the event. Briggs sent Jackson messages about his thoughts on their opponents and the format as well. Evidently, his foot wasn’t hurting him bad enough to keep the old coach from prepping.
Jackson pinged Vega as soon as the plane landed and they met him out on the concourse. After checking out the local climate and land features, Jackson had planned for a warmer hiking excursion — canvas shorts, t-shirts, and hiking boots. Vega, on the other hand, looked like he was spending the week in a fancy upscale resort where he planned on playing croquet and sipping iced lemonade, or something. He wore a light tan suit and sported a wide-brimmed straw hat that looked like he’d stolen it out of some retirement home or a golf shop. He grinned widely as he approached, throwing his arms out in an exaggerated welcome.
“Jackson! So great to see you in the flesh, my friend. And, my oh my, it looks like you’ve brought the team with you. It’s good to finally meet you lovely ladies.”
Vega held out a hand for Fiona to shake. Fiona took his hand.
“Are you who I talk to about getting reimbursed for my flight?”
Vega laughed. “Straight to the point, then, I see,” he said, handing her a business card. “Message me here with your receipts and it’ll get taken care of.”
Vega smiled and turned to Kay, taking her hand. “And a pleasure to meet you…Ms. Watts is it? I’ve seen the work you’ve done with Jackson’s Djinn. He should be happy to have you on his team.”
“Uh…thanks,” Kay said, pulling her hand back. “It’s nice to be…appreciated”
Jackson was too busy giving Vega’s outfit the once-over to notice the awkward exchange. “You’re looking very…” Jackson searched for a description that didn't include ridiculous or pompous. “Very…dressed up,” he said at last. “Are we here to do the same thing?”
Vega laughed but Jackson could tell he was extremely pleased someone had commented on his attire. “Why, thank you! I always like to dress as I’d like to look at my funeral.”
Jackson, Fiona and Kay all exchanged glances. Why would anyone say that right before going on a potentially-dangerous trip?
“Well, you’re certainly dressed to kill,” Jackson said.
Vega gave an exaggerated laugh, and Jackson couldn’t tell if he was playing it up on purpose or thought his lame joke really was that funny. “Clever!” Vega said, rolling his bag away.
The airport they’d landed in was a stark contrast to Vega’s clean, seamless attire. Grass grew through the faded, cracked asphalt of the runway and the fence surrounding the perimeter of the airfield was rusted and broken in places. The surroundings highlighted just how remote Lombardia was, and they still had another two-hour drive to the ferry from the airport, according to Vega. That didn’t include the ferry trip out to the archipelago, which would also be pretty far out. Fortunately, Vega’s employer, the EVO Institute was paying for the entire trip. The charter flight alone would have cleaned out most of Jackson’s savings.
Unlike Tyle, the air here was hot and thick, a humid reminder that they weren’t in cool, forested Tyle anymore. Outside of the broken-down fence, thick trees, shrubs, and ferns grew right up to the rusted chainlink as if the airfield was an oasis of cleared ground in a sea of jungle. Jackson realized just how far away from everything they were and wondered not for the first time since he’d left home if he’d made the right decision.
“Grab your bags and follow me,” Vega said. “We’ll meet up with the rest of the group and figure out the gameplan.”
“Rest of the group?” Jackson asked, vaguely remembering Vega mentioning a couple others meeting them here.
Vega laughed. “Don’t worry, by group, I just mean two of my hired helpers. They’re coming along to help carry equipment and the like.”
They made it to the edge of the sweltering air strip and inside a tin building with lazy fans doing an awful job at shifting the stagnant, jungle air. A man and a woman wearing sunglasses were seated by a handful of cases and hard-sided bags. Jackson almost made a joke about wearing shades inside, but thought better of it. The looks on the faces of both people made him think they could snap his neck and leave him in a shallow grave without anyone noticing.
“Jackson, Fiona, Kay, meet Sloan and Heath,” Vega said.
The pair nodded their heads once, expressions hidden behind their dark sunglasses. Unlike Vega, they were outfitted in what Jackson could only describe as bushwhacking attire — tall boots, canvas pants, and button up shirts. Each wore what appeared to be a handgun on their belts which really made Jackson concerned.
“Are those…guns?” he asked, ready to take the next flight home, no matter what the cost.
“Oh no, of course not!” Vega chuckled. He held out a hand and the man — Heath — handed over the pistol. As soon as it came out of the holster Jackson recognized it as a tranquilizer, similar to ones used in emergencies at Sato Breeders. “Just a little added protection out there. We may be faced with situations where we don’t want to use Djinn. They’re perfectly legal and allowed on the archipelago.”
Heath slid the tranquilizer pistol back into its holster. Although neither of them had said a word, Jackson suddenly felt very grateful he’d brought Kay and Fiona along.
“Well, now that we’ve all met, how about we head to the hotel,” Vega suggested with a cheerful clap of his hands. “I know I’d sure like a bit to eat, a cold drink, and take a nap in the AC. What do you say?”
Heath and Sloa
n stood without a word and began picking up the bags and cases. Without waiting for an answer, Vega headed off toward the front of the airport building. Jackson started following after the trio but a strong yank on his backpack almost sent him sprawling on his butt.
“Ow! What was that for?” he asked, turning around to see if Kay or Fiona was the culprit. They looked equally mad and suspect.
Kay frowned. At her ankles, Sunshine did his best imitation of his tamer’s accusatory expression. “What in the world have you gotten us into?”
Chapter Fifteen
Jackson didn’t feel much better about the situation the next morning when Vega (sporting an uncomfortably white suit this time around) loaded them all into a faded black van to head to the coast. Stuffed between Kay and Fiona in the back, the van’s lack of air conditioning soon made the trip a downright nightmare. In any other setting, Jackson wouldn’t have minded being squished up next to Fiona, but given his immediate car sickness and sweating, he just wanted the trip to end.
The van weaved its way through the tiny streets of Cuscoru, barely braking to avoid pedestrians walking to work or vendors and their Djinn moving carts of fresh produce and other goods to the market. Vega sat in the front and it gave Jackson some small satisfaction to see him clenching the door and armrest with white knuckles. The driver was a city native, roughly around Jackson’s grandma’s age but with quite a few more country miles on him. Whenever Vega suggested that the man slow down, the driver gave him a wide toothless grin and stomped on the gas even harder. Jackson didn’t know if he just drove like a maniac and had no understanding of what Vega was asking, or if he enjoyed putting the out-of-towners on edge.
When they finally made it out of the narrow streets of the village and into the countryside, the stop-and-go braking ended, replaced instead but a number of curving roads. At least the speed was enough to give them a little bit of fresh air through the rolled down windows.
Djinn Tamer - The Complete Bronze League Trilogy Page 63