Djinn Tamer - The Complete Bronze League Trilogy

by Derek Alan Siddoway

  They eventually found themselves winding up a bumpy road on a cliff overlooking the Piedra Sea. The view was breathtaking, but so was the steep drop down not six inches from the road. The edge of the cliff had no guardrail and Jackson couldn’t help but imagine them plummeting to their deaths if the driver blew a tire or just swerved to give Vega a hard time.

  “Jackson,” Kay said. “If I throw up, remind me to do it on you.”

  “Yeah,” Fiona said, looking equally pale. “Same here.”

  Before Jackson could even react, their attention was stolen by a sharp horseshoe bend followed by the sudden screech of brakes as the van lurched to a stop. If they hadn’t been packed into their seat so tight, Jackson felt confident someone would have gone through the window.

  Ahead of them, the road dwindled into a single lane, which was now occupied by a farmer and his Donkick, pulling a cart of what looked like coconuts. Their driver poked his head out the window and began shouting at the farmer, waving his hands and banging them on the van door. The farmer yelled back but Jackson had no idea what either of the men were saying. As the van driver and farmer continued to scream at one another, they both inched closer and closer to one another, playing the slowest, yet highest-stakes game of Don’t-Back-Down Jackson had ever been a part of.

  Vega provided no help. He seemed grateful enough for the pause and leaned out the door, hands between his knees while the pair continued to argue. After several seconds, the van was practically on top of the farmer, and their driver put the vehicle in park and exited the van — somehow not falling to his death while doing so. Jackson thought maybe the two would be able to talk some sense into one another, but the screaming just continued in front of the van instead.

  “Don’t look now, but we’re like a six inches away from the edge of the cliff,” Fiona said. Jackson leaned over to his left to get a better view out of the window…and to gauge Fiona’s reaction to him in her bubble, if he was honest with himself.

  She shoved him back into the middle before he got more than a peak over the precipice.

  “I told you not to look! The last thing you need to do is lean closer to the career-ending drop!”

  Jackson snorted. “Career-ending?”

  “Don’t question my priorities,” Fiona said, clenching the handle above her window.

  Jackson could tell by her expression that she wasn’t kidding. “I’m just saying, a fall like that—”

  “Not right now, Jackson,” Fiona said, holding up a hand. “I’m too busy regretting every decision that put me in that van..”

  “It’s not my fault you decided to come all this way with me.”

  “But it is your fault I felt sorry for you. So I’m still going to blame you if we die.”

  “Will you two knock it off?” Kay hissed. She said it with such unexpected venom than Jackson and Fiona went silent at once and turned to look out the front window. “The last thing I want to think about is how close we are to the edge of the cliff. So just shut up!”

  Jackson couldn’t help but imagine the road slowly eroding beneath the tires of their van. Was it even made to hold up something so heavy for so long? Jackson looked over to Vega, who wore an equally-apprehensive expression on his face. He hoped Vega’s funeral suit wasn’t any indication of how the rest of the day would go.

  “Think we should go out and talk to them?” Jackson said. “I don’t wanna die here just because we’re too polite to say anything.”

  “Unfortunately,” Vega said, “there’s a bit of a language barrier. I’m not sure how much good it would do.”

  “And what about the universal language?” Sloan said.

  Jackson wasn’t sure he’d heard her speak before.

  “You’ll have to be more specific,” Vega said, not even trying to hide his irritation.

  Sloan smirked and rubbed her thumb and index finger together.

  “Right, of course. How stupid of me,” Vega said, getting out of the van.

  At first, both men ignored him as he approached, but several bills of local currency later had then both smiling and apparently nothing but cooperative. The farmer pulled his Donkick and cart to the side, providing enough room for their driver to squeeze past in the van, although Jackson didn’t even bother asking Fiona how close they were to the edge of the cliff as they pushed through.

  Once they made it past the farmer, they reached the top of the cliffs. All at once, the trees opened up and the ensuing view of the surrounding jungle and ocean almost made the awful trip worth it.

  “Oh, wow!” Kay said, snapping a couple of pictures of her holo-cam app. “It’s gorgeous! Can we stop for a picture?”

  If Vega, the driver, Heath, or Sloan heard, they gave no indication. Moments later, they were descending down the back side of the cliff and the trees filled in to block the stunning view.

  “Guess not,” Kay muttered, folding her arms across her chest.

  The slope on the other side of the cliffs was much straighter and they soon made it back down to the jungle floor. On the flip side, the refreshing sea breeze was blocked again by the stifling trees and undergrowth. But before long, they made it back out to a small marina on a black sand beach.

  Fiona and Jackson hadn’t said anything to each other since the incident with the farmer. Even with the bare, sweaty skin of their arms pressed together, the inherent stress of the trip made their situation none too appealing.

  The marina featured a single boardwalk made of wood that stretched a couple dozen yards off of the beach out into the lagoon. A weather-battered old sign hung at a slant from two poles and read “Black’s Ferry.” Surrounded by cliffs on all sides, the little cove housing a cottage that looked more like a secret pirate hideout than the location for a ferry business. To the south, a narrow waterfall spilled down from the rocks, dropping right into the crystal clear waters. A number of vibrant flowers of pink and orange grew in clusters on the rocks, making the waterfall look like someone had thrown buckets of paint on either side of it.

  “I don’t care why we came. I’m taking five minutes to get some pictures,” Kay said to no one in particular.

  She wandered over to the water’s edge, arm held out to grab some shots on her holo-cam. Vega, Heath, and Sloan headed for the little building on stilts attached to the dock, leaving Fiona and Jackson alone.

  “See?” Jackson said in a flat voice. “It’s not so bad here, is it?”

  “Even after the ride from hell?”

  “Especially after the ride from hell.”

  “I hate you,” Fiona said, rolling her eyes and turning away, though Jackson thought he caught the hint of a smile on her face. He was about to press Fiona further when Vega and his two assistants came storming out of the door, stopping several paces from the wooden shack and turning to face the entrance.

  “What’s going on?” Jackson asked, alarmed by their annoyed faces.

  Vega scoffed and waved a hand at the docks.

  “Apparently, our money isn’t good enough — we have to earn our ferry trip,” he said.

  Jackson and Fiona shared a questioning glance between them.

  “Uh…by doing what?” Fiona asked. “I didn’t sign up for dishes detail.”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” Vega said. “Apparently the crackpot old lady who runs this ferry to the archipelago doesn’t take on passengers unless they prove they’re tough enough for Lombardia. I explained to her that we had all of the proper clearance but she wouldn’t budge.”

  Jackson got the impression that Vega was used to solving his problems with money and, much like a spoiled child who didn’t get his own way, was prone to pouting when someone told him no.

  “I’ll fight her,” he offered.

  Vega pursed his lips. “No, I’m afraid not. I’d hate for you to damage one of your Djinn before the playoffs. That’s what Heath and Sloan here are for.” The researcher pointed to the two bodyguards who were busy arguing over which one would face off against the ferry owner. It was th
e most Jackson had heard them speak the entire trip. Just when it looked like Heath and Sloan might settle their argument with a brawl of their own, Heath won out. A moment later, the wooden door creaked open and the ferry owner stepped out.

  “You’re going to fight her?” Jackson asked.

  The ferry owner — a short, squat elderly woman — made her way down the stairs, leaning heavily on a cane. She stumped across the sand, hunched over so Jackson had a hard time making out the wrinkles on her face, which was also hidden by long, black hair mixed here and there with a few strands of white. The old woman stopped a dozen paces away from the group and lifted her head. At one point in time she might have been described as beautiful, but no matter how age had worn her, a steely glint remained in her dark eyes. Something about the woman tugged at Jackson’s memory but he dismissed the thought.

  “I’ve been looking for a good fight for months,” she said. When she spoke, her voice was clear and strong, and any lingering doubts Jackson had about Heath beating up on the elderly lady vanished. “Which one of you is going to try your luck?”

  “I’ll give it a go, Grandma,” Heath said, stepping forward and cracking his knuckles. “Just tell me if I need to ease up, eh?”

  “That doesn’t sound as tough as you think it does,” Kay said dryly.

  The ferry owner smiled and dipped her head. “My, what a gentleman.” In one fluid motion she raised her hand with a flourish and a bright light burst forth as she summoned her Djinn. “Let’s go, Miguel!”

  A Smilaguar materialized out of the glow of the Djinn ring and crouched down, ready to fight. Jackson pulled up its raw stats.

  GENERAL STATS AND INFO

  Djinn: Smilaguar

  Level: 15

  Name: Miguel

  Element: Earth

  HP (Hit Points): 130/130

  EP (Elemental Power): 45/45

  Attack: 50

  Defense: 40

  Speed: 105

  Accessories: None

  Items: None

  Status: Neutral

  Jackson noticed the colors on the Djinn differed slightly from the Smilaguar he’d seen around the Granite Region, but didn’t have much time to think about it as Heath own Djinn appear a moment later.

  It was a Smilaguar too. With the two saber-toothed cat Djinn facing off against one another, Jackson could definitely see the differences in color and patterns. Heath’s looked like the ones Jackson was accustomed to and he wondered what made the difference in the environment.

  GENERAL STATS AND INFO

  Djinn: Smilaguar

  Level: 20

  Name: Fang

  Element: Earth

  HP (Hit Points): 220/220

  EP (Elemental Power): 93/93

  Attack: 115

  Defense: 100

  Speed: 95

  Accessories: None

  Items: None

  Status: Neutral

  He pulled also pulled up his Djinncyclopedia to see if there were any notes on the differences in their fur, but he found none.

  “Ha!” Heath said, looking down at his holo-watch. “Your Smilaguar is only Level 15 — why don’t you just give up now, old lady?”

  “Kay’s right, dude,” Fiona said. “You really don’t sound tough. More like a bully. I’m honestly rooting for her now.”

  Heath ignored her, and the old woman smiled, her eyes looking focused and dangerous.

  Without a word, her Smilaguar sprinted forward in a blur. Heath’s Smilaguar roared its challenge and bound to meet it. Within a few yards of one another, the Djinn sprang. An instant before the two were about to collide, however, the woman’s Smilaguar shot beneath Heath’s and landed on its feet, spinning around to meet its opponent. Heath’s Smilaguar crashed in a pile on the sand.

  Heath scowled. “Stop messing around, Fang, get him!”

  Jackson was less than impressed with Heath’s level of strategy and highly doubted the hired hand was delivering any additional telepathic commands to his Djinn. The old woman hadn’t said a word, hadn’t hardly moved, except for her eyes, which seemed to be directing her smaller, faster Smilaguar on their own. Jackson could tell she was a master of telepathic battle communication.

  Fang screeched in anger and the sand around the Earth-Elemental Djinn rippled in response. Miguel, the woman’s Smilaguar, charged right at the Djinn, apparently unintimidated. Feline forms made of sand hissed and tried to meet Miguel in his charge, but each time, the Smilaguar dodged to the side just before they struck. The sand cats exploded each time they missed, kicking up a haze of sand so that everyone had to shield their eyes.

  Miguel struck Fang hard, claws and front legs locked out. Heath’s Smilaguar tumbled through the sand and shook off the attack. It hadn’t done an extreme amount of damage, but before Fang could recover, Miguel hit him again and again, almost faster than Jackson could track.

  “Get up, Fang!” Heath shouted. “You’ve got like five levels on that thing. Are you kidding me?”

  By now, a healthy portion of Fang’s hit points were gone. The bigger, supposedly stronger Smilaguar rose on shaky legs and tried to regain its composure.

  “Finish him.” The old woman told Miguel.

  The Smilagaur leaped again and hit Heath’s Djinn in the side. Before it could rise, Miguel had Fang by the neck and took it out with a swift Bite. Heath’s Djinn blacked out and he recalled it with a flurry of curses.

  “Shame,” the old woman said as her Smilaguar trotted back to her side, unfazed by the exchange. “It looks like you’re not going to Lombardia after all.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Vega strode forward, hands up, laughing nervously.

  “Now, wait just a moment,” he said with a forced chuckle. “Let’s all just calm down. I can assure you we’re well prepared to handle anything the archipelago can throw at us.”

  Vega shot a look at Heath. In turn, the bodyguard cast his eyes downward, apparently knowing better than to make excuses for his loss.

  “It may not look like it,” Vega said. “But my companions are better off than what Heath here showed you. As I mentioned inside, Jackson and Fiona here are both Bronze League tamers and Kay is a rehabber. Sloan — and Heath, allegedly — are professional adventurers used to handling the outdoors and wild Djinn.”

  “Sorry,” the old woman said, reaching down to pet her Smilaguar. The Djinn purred and rubbed his tufted head against her side. “That’s the deal. I can’t send you to the archipelago if you can’t even handle Miguel.”

  Jackson watched the pair, still amazed at what he’d seen. The old woman had hardly moved a muscle during the entire battle. Jackson himself, while silent, knew he moved a great deal when in a battle. Even many Gold League tamers used their holo-watch or short audio commands in conjunction with their telepathic connection — the woman had done nothing. In addition to their amazing communication, it was evident the Smilaguar Miguel had been raised with specific strategies in mind. His Speed was through the roof for a Level 15 Djinn.

  What made the situation even more bizarre was the fact that the Smilaguar was clearly a juvenile Djinn. Jackson had worked with enough different monsters at Sato to have a pretty good idea of how to guess ages and he doubted the Smilaguar was more than one year old. That meant the old woman had spent some serious time training him recently. She was far more than met the eye.

  “Hold on,” Jackson said as the old woman headed back to her cottage, Vega still trailing and pleading with her. The woman turned and raised an eyebrow at Jackson.

  “Yeah, what?”

  “How about you give us just one more chance. I think I could give you a good match.”

  “Jackson we’ve already talked about this,” Vega said. “We need to keep your Djinn rested and —”

  “It does us no good if we can’t get to the archipelago in the first place,” Jackson said.

  The woman sized Jackson up and down for a moment and apparently saw something she liked. “Deal. On one condition.”


  “Anything.”

  The woman nodded. “If I’m not mistaken, you have a Lyote named Asena, correct?”

  Jackson hadn’t expected that. “That’s right,” he said. “But how —”

  The woman held up a hand. “I’ve seen a little bit of the Bronze League on my holo-cast even way out here. Let’s just say I’m fond of Lyotes. How about you show me what you can do with yours?”

  Jackson ran a quick mental calculation. With their opponent being that much lower in level, any experience Asena gained would be nominal. For some reason, he felt the urge to beat Black with his best Djinn. He grinned and punched his left hand into the air. “You’re on! Let’s go, Asena!”

  Asena appeared in a flash, hackles raised and a low growl issuing from between her bared teeth. The woman froze for a moment and did nothing but stare at the Lyote.

  “Uh…are you going to call out your Djinn?” Jackson asked after a long, awkward pause.

  The woman blinked and looked around like she’d suddenly forgotten what had been going on. “What? Oh, yes! Let’s give them some more, Miguel!”

  The Smilaguar leaped from the woman’s side and stopped a few paces away from Asena, who growled and barked in response. Jackson felt the familiar thrill of battle coming over him. Training was well and good, but there was something about an actual fight, no matter the place or the size of the crowd. It felt good to be in a match with just Asena, like the old days.

  Jackson pulled up his and his opponent’s base stats.

  GENERAL STATS AND INFO

  Djinn: Lyote

  Level: 23

  Name: Asena

  Element: Fire/Earth

  HP (Hit Points): 344/344

  EP (Elemental Power): 162/162

  Attack: 143

  Defense: 128