by J.T. Stoll
Vero tore open a box bearing an Amazon smile and pulled out a clamshell package.
“Oh, this,” she said.
“You sound surprised,” Neil said.
The label read celebrity mask; inside was a plastic mask shaped like Britney Spears’s face. Vero leaned against a nearby tree and turned it over a few times in her hands. “I ordered this?”
“Yes, you ordered that.”
She barely remembered it. Neil had been breathing down her neck to pick something for a disguise so that he could place the order. She had searched for masks, picked out something funny, then emailed it to him. Britney Spears? How had she ended up as Britney Spears?
A light breeze rushed through the leaves overhead. They were at their practice spot, a clearing near a trail just north of town. Pieter and Vero had created the small clearing by downing a few trees with their soul armors during their first training session three weeks ago. They stopped when Neil pointed out that they needed to train in secret and not get arrested for illegal deforestation.
Pieter slipped his mask on. The off white of a demented clown face—complete with angry eyes, slightly bloody lips, and rotting teeth—smiled at them. A little bit of fluffy red hair stuck off the bald head. “Now this is a disguise.”
“I am the Neil-man,” Neil said, facing them while wearing a Batman mask. He spoke in a raspy, throaty voice. “Gloria, how’s yours?”
She slipped on a white bunny head, slightly cartoony, complete with ears stuck straight up like an antique TV antenna. Whiskers pointed off the cheeks. “Well, it covers my face.”
“You look really cute,” Vero said.
“We’re not going for cute,” Neil yelled. “These are battle masks. I can’t believe I let you pick those out. Britney Spears? Bunny rabbit?”
“Ditch the ears,” Pieter said. “They’re a little overkill. Makes you hard to take seriously.”
“Neil gets to have ears,” Gloria said.
“That’s because I’m the Batman,” Neil said in his deep voice.
Gloria slipped off the mask and stared at it.
“They’d probably get torn off in a real battle anyways,” Vero said. She held out her axe, and Gloria sliced off the ears and whiskers.
Vero took a moment to tie her hair up. Their first practice, after a jump, she’d ended up hanging from a tree by her hair. It actually hadn’t hurt much, probably thanks to the armor. Though getting the twigs and leaves out of her hair had taken an hour.
She turned on her armor and faced Pieter. “Well?”
Silver ignited around his arm. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Pieter stepped forward and slashed. She danced back. Diotein knew how to be used. It gave her more than strength and speed; she had technique and muscle memory, maybe some echo of the previous users. She was no expert, but she reacted smarter than she should have been able to.
She swung in return. Pieter soared backward, planted his feet on a tree, and ricocheted toward her. He held the sword back but aimed his other hand in an outstretched fist for her—neither wanted to draw blood. Vero slipped to the side, twirled around, and slammed her axe handle down. It smashed into his calf, and the path of his jump carried him into a bush. One point for Vero.
“Dang, Vero,” Pieter called from within the bushes. “You got some aggression, there?”
“Jed owes us for Carlos’s shop,” Vero replied. “Next time, I don’t plan to run. Neil, you want some of this?”
“I’ll take you on,” he said in that ridiculously deep voice. “After all, I’m the—”
“That joke is also officially banned as of now,” Pieter called, dragging himself out of the foliage.
Vero faced Neil with a smirk. Practice with these things felt like a game. Twirling and jumping, training out here in the woods… not a bad Saturday afternoon. Except that they were training because someday they’d have to really fight.
She went light on Neil; he wasn’t as good as Pieter. She dodged a couple blows and knocked another aside. As they sparred, a funny sensation grew in her axe. It felt like her inner fire extended into the blade. She attacked.
Neil dodged with an awkward leap across the clearing. He landed and gazed at her in intense concentration. Again, some kind of power flowed into her weapon from her hands. It nodded— as much as an axe could nod—that she should swing, despite the range. She stared at the blade.
“Vero?” Neil said.
She could hit him, somehow from here. At least, so the weapon seemed to say.
“Vero?” Neil repeated. “You’re spaced out.”
She looked up at him. “Sorry, something weird with the axe. I need a break.”
“If you do that in a real fight…”
“Oh, shut up. You and Pieter go fight.”
Vero quenched her armor, and Neil’s silver glow faded. Pieter approached Neil, whose face took on a slightly terrified look.
“Actually, turn your armor back on,” Neil said. “I want to try something different.”
“What?” Vero asked.
“Collapsing our weapons.”
“Collapsing?” Pieter asked.
“Yeah,” Neil said. “Like James had them that first night. They were little rods. We know it’s possible, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out that trick. I keep trying, but no luck. I mean, do you realize how convenient that would be?”
“It’d stop a lot of questions from my family, too,” Vero said.
“You want to give it a try?” Neil asked.
Vero stood up and turned her armor on. She pushed against the top and bottom of her axe handle. Solid. She held the flat of the blade and tried to fold it sideways on itself. Nothing. She poked; she prodded. Nothing happened.
Pieter did the same, though with a sword, he had to be a little more careful not to cut himself. Neil struggled in vain with his mace.
“This is a waste of time,” Vero said. “Let’s do some jumps. Gloria, get over here!”
Gloria sat by herself on the leafy floor under an oak tree. Nadur seemed different. Despite looking like wood, the staff was hard as steel. Even Vero’s axe couldn’t so much as put a nick in it. But it wasn’t sharp; Gloria couldn’t fell trees with it. The first week, she’d sparred a little, but mostly, she just sat there, as though in some kind of meditation. She claimed that when she concentrated, she felt power in the armor, something more refined than hand-to-hand combat. To Vero, it seemed like a waste of time.
“Gloria!” Vero yelled.
Gloria stood up. “What?”
“Jumping time.”
All four lined up, held their weapons, and jumped. Fresh air rushed by Vero as she sailed above the shade of the trees. The woods stayed in the wet ravines while the dead grass of summer covered the hillsides.
Gloria slowed then fell. Then Neil. Then Pieter. Vero inched just above him before she peaked and descended.
Her stomach lurched upward. Panic rumbled around inside as the ground rushed up to meet her. Soul armor or not, that ground was hard, and she was falling fast. As branches rushed by her, she trusted Diotein, and when the impact finally came, she stayed on her feet. Gloria lay flat on her face.
“Looks like I win again,” Pieter said.
“Oh, please,” Vero replied. “You were ten feet short.”
Pieter scoffed. “Right. Again?”
They jumped for height; they jumped for length; they ran; they sparred. After intense exertion—say, ten or twenty jumps in a row or a fierce spar—Vero felt a little winded, but it passed quickly if she rested. The power was a little addictive.
After about an hour and a half, Vero started to feel that exhaustion that told her the end was near. Neil was already finished for the day, and she beat Pieter in one last spar before releasing her own armor. She could have pushed a little harder, but in case an emergency came up or something, she wanted to be able to use the armor, if only for a few minutes.
Vero walked over to Gloria, who was back by herself between two big oak trees, armor st
ill glowing a soft gold on her chest.
“Still at it? Aren’t you exhausted?” Vero asked.
Gloria blinked, drawing out of a deep concentration. “Whoa, you’re right, I am. But check this out.”
She held her staff in front of her and spun it in a circle. Leaves fell from the trees overhead and followed it, like a tiny tornado.
“Cool,” Vero said. Though not useful in a fight.
“And look.” She raised the staff up with both hands then pulled down. Above them, a branch from one of the oaks bent in their direction.
A loud snap echoed, and a quarter of the tree split off and fell. In reflex, Vero activated her armor. Good thing, too; the section landed on her. She found herself immersed in a world of foliage.
“I’m sorry,” Gloria shouted from the middle of the mess. “Looks like I still need some work.”
Vero grabbed a thick branch and pulled herself out. “It’s okay; this is new for all of us. But Jed better never come after us in a forest.”
Vero slipped Diotein’s leather guard onto the blade, and they gathered their things and hiked back to the car.
“I looked up some info on maces,” Neil said. “I totally have the coolest weapon. See these?” He pointed to six ridges that extended around the heavy end of his mace. “Flanges. They could smash right through plate mail. I’ll bet this thing could tear apart a tank.”
“Do you see that?” Gloria asked. She pointed to the sun, which peeked just over the hills surrounding the parking area.
Vero glanced up. “Yeah, pretty.”
“No, look closer. And see if turning your armor on helps.”
Vero did so, though using Diotein was pretty hard at this point. A strange blob of light appeared around the edge of the sun. It moved like something from a lava lamp. Trust Gloria to see that. Occasionally, she mentioned seeing translucent human figures walking around, too, figures that didn’t notice seem to notice the world around them. Some parts of this Ruach thing were hard, some were scary, and some were just plain weird.
“It’s like a halo around the sun,” Vero said. She turned off her armor, and she could still see the blob, just barely. “And yeah, now I can see it even without my armor on.”
“I don’t see it, armor on or off,” Neil said.
The sun silhouetted a few trees on the ridge, then slipped completely behind it. The blob lingered a little longer before following the sun.
“Well, what’s it mean?” Pieter asked.
Gloria shrugged. “Wish I knew. I’m just glad not to be the only one seeing it, this time.”
“You think it’s related to those people you see?” Pieter asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Right now, though, I’m ready for a shower and dinner.”
Pieter drove them back into town. They pulled off the freeway and headed for Gloria’s house.
“This where your family lives?” Neil asked.
“It’s where my foster parents are,” Gloria said.
Vero was glad to finally have the rumor confirmed. Neil seemed shocked. “Foster? Wait, your mom’s dead, but… you didn’t tell us…”
“It’s not something I go around broadcasting.”
Neil sighed. His head hit the back of Vero’s seat. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been eight years. I’m fine.” Gloria shut the car door and walked toward the house. She didn’t look back.
Pieter slapped his friend’s leg. “Nice.”
Neil put his face in his hands. “Why’s this always happen to me?”
“Hey, look at that,” Pieter said as a white minivan blew through a stop sign and turned down another residential street.
“I think I saw that car on the freeway,” Neil said.
“Was it following us?”
“No. At least, not directly. It was in another lane.”
Pieter drove up to the stop sign and turned onto the same street.
“You’re headed the wrong way,” Vero said.
“I want to see where that van went. I don’t like that it followed us.”
The van could have taken about four different side roads down the street in front of them.
Vero’s stomach rumbled. “No sign of it, yeah? Come on. You’re just being paranoid.”
“Paranoid people survive,” Neil said.
Their car came up to a stop sign. Vero checked the cross streets but didn’t see the van. “Look, it’s gone,” Vero said. “We couldn’t find it now if we wanted. Besides, if somebody was following us, they just lost our trail, too, right?”
“I’ll text Gloria to at least let her know,” Neil said. “Not much more we can do. I’m hungry, too.”
After dropping Neil off at his place across town, Pieter and Vero waited in the car.
“Finally, alone,” Pieter said. “You want to hang?”
Trust Pieter to have a date planned. Something burned inside; this time, it wasn’t Diotein. “We still get to do that? Jed might be lurking just around the corner…”
“Well, he’ll have to wait, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They drove toward downtown.
Vero pulled out her phone and powered it on. She kept it off in the canyon, as having no reception seemed to kill her battery. Twenty-six messages waited. Kristin had broken up with her boyfriend, again, and needed comfort. Everyone’s replies to the group text filled her inbox.
The phone vibrated in her hand. She expected something else about the breakup, but it was Gloria.
Just one word: Help.
11. Jed