Dark Sun Rising

by K M Martinez

  “Nice job!” Mel said.

  “He couldn’t defend against the rain,” Devilyn said with bright eyes.

  The other Kale Novices didn’t fare as well. Both Kacey James and Louis James lost their matches without scoring points, Glenn Coudrou lost having scored only one point, and Mando lost a heart breaker. He and his competitor, a Moors girl, were tied at two when the unfortunate happened: the dreaded double point. The Moors girl dropped her guard for an instant, and Mando tried to stab her weak spot. But at the last second, the Moors Novice brought her sword up and caught Mando under his rib just as he tagged her on her shoulder. Both scored… but both were out of the competition. They were so disappointed they could hardly look at anyone for wanting to cry.

  “How come they both don’t move on?” Jonah asked.

  “It has to be a clean win,” said Charlotte.

  After the first round, Mel decided to stretch her legs. She planned to be back at her seat before Devilyn’s match, which, according to the bracket, would be against a Tam boy, in the fifth match of the second round.

  As she stood, Tía Alice looked up at her. “You’re leaving me?”

  “Just going to take a walk. Did you want to join me?”

  “Sure, I could use the exercise.”

  They made their way out of the seating area. A short distance away, water coolers had been set up, and Mel was glad she’d brought her water bottle. She grabbed one of the nozzles and filled her bottle.

  “Ooh, this is nice and cold,” she said.

  “It’d better be for the money Luce spent on it,” her aunt replied. “He was determined to make this Agora a comfortable one.”

  “Last year was horrible, so I don’t blame him,” Mel said, taking a drink. “I’m grateful. I’ll have to tell him when I see him.”

  They walked in comfortable silence. The grounds outside the competition area were quiet, since most were watching the games, but a few people were scattered about. Mel noticed a few couldn’t look her in the eye. An awkwardness still lingered from this morning’s vote.

  “Mel,” Tía Alice said, “I’m worried about Charlotte.”

  Mel stopped and looked at her aunt. Worried? What could she be worried—ohhh.

  “Ambulant Laboriosum.”

  “It’s not called the laborious walk for nothing, Mel. It’s dangerous—the most dangerous competition in the games.”

  “It is.”

  Tía Alice frowned. “You’re supposed to make me feel better. Tell me I’m worrying needlessly like Luce does.”

  “I can’t. You should be worried. Hell, I would worry if I thought about it, so I don’t.”

  Tía Alice laughed. “You Kales. You never think about anything.”

  “We can’t. If we did, we’d never do the things we do. I scale mountains, I swim rivers, I fight nature, and if I thought too much about it, I’d scare myself from doing it. That stuff in there,” Mel pointed toward the sandpit, “that’s simple. That’s two people trying to beat each other to bits. That’s two people trying to make each other bleed for kicks. That out there,” she pointed to the woods, “that’s hard. That’s nature, and nature is a brutal adversary. Nature has thorns to prick you, teeth to bite you, poison to weaken you, and heat to break you. No one likes to compete in Ambulant Laboriosum, and now that you’ve got me thinking about it, I’m wondering what the hell Charlotte is thinking.”

  “I know! And she chose you as her second.”

  “Hey!”

  “No offense, Mel, but why didn’t she choose her father? He’s been training her all year.”

  She was right. Tío Luce had never been one for survival games, which now concerned Mel greatly, considering he was Charlotte’s instructor. Tío Jorge would’ve been the better candidate.

  “We know this land,” Mel said. “We trained here. This is our home field advantage. Charlotte knows that.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better. That’s still my daughter out there.”

  Mel knew what Tía Alice was going to ask. She could see it coming, and she wished so badly that her aunt wouldn’t ask.

  “Please, Mel. Convince her to drop out.”

  Fuck.

  Convincing a descendant to drop out of a game was nearly impossible.

  “She’d lose her honor, Tía Alice. And she’d lose respect—from herself as well as from others.”

  “I don’t care about that. I don’t understand any of that. I want my daughter whole; I want her safe.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking me. A descendant without honor has no clan.”

  “You’d throw her away if she quit?”

  “No, of course I wouldn’t. I love her; she’s like a sister. But the others won’t feel the same, and she won’t be able to live with it. You don’t understa—”

  “No, I don’t understand. I hoped you could help me.” Tía Alice’s expression was imploring, practically begging

  Mel swallowed down the guilt and steeled herself. “I can’t do that to her. I can’t let her do that to herself. But I can promise you, I can promise you—if anything happens, I’ll do everything I can to bring her back to you.”

  “That doesn’t bring me comfort.” Tía Alice turned and walked away.

  Mel felt torn as she watched her aunt go, but there was nothing she could do. Charlotte would never quit the game, and Mel wouldn’t let her now that she was committed. That was a quick way of getting alienated from the clan.

  “You just can’t catch a break today.”

  Cori O’Shea. The Ferus woman was always at the wrong place at the wrong time. Mel wasn’t in the mood to go tit for tat.

  “You’re right not to do as she asks,” Cori said.

  The last thing Mel wanted was Cori O’Shea’s blessing. It just made her feel that much worse. She’d done a cold thing, and Cori’s attempt to exonerate her made her feel even colder.

  “I don’t need you telling me I’m right. I don’t need your approval, Cori.”

  Cori gave Mel a hard look. “Fine.” She grabbed Mel’s water bottle out of her hands and took a swig. “I guess that’s to be expected. I mean, if you did make a habit of seeking my approval, you probably wouldn’t have been voted down this morning.”

  “Oh, so you voted me down?”

  “Of course.”

  The anger that usually smoldered fought like a Spartan army to get to the surface. “I—you—” Mel felt she shouldn’t be surprised, but for some reason she was. She was angry—so angry she was fighting back tears.

  Is this betrayal? Is this betrayal I feel?

  Cori watched Mel’s face like a hawk. Her feet were apart, as if expecting Mel to attack her. And for a moment, Mel felt like she would. Then she reined it in, buried the anger. But she couldn’t put to bed the pain—and surprisingly, she did feel pain.

  She tore her water bottle out of Cori’s hand, emptied the contents in Cori’s startled face, and walked away.

  ****

  Victor wasn’t paying attention to the Novice matches; he was too busy thinking about the Eighth Clan. His conversation with Tío Luce and Tío Jorge had been fruitless—neither of them had ever heard of an Eighth Clan. He had only one more person within his clan to ask before he would have to corner Hemanth Reddy or Sean O’Shea: Grandma Mari.

  His grandmother was seated with the rest of the Council of Elders on the first set of bleachers by the sandpit. She was a wealth of information, and there was a very good possibility she would know what the Eighth Clan was.

  The Kale descendants erupted into cheers around him, and Victor looked toward the sandpit. Devilyn Wiley had just stepped forward to face an Ivor girl. As in the first match, she attacked with Rain in High Wind, but the Ivor girl defended well against it and countered with Feather in the Air. Devilyn was immediately on the defensive, but when she switched to Dancing Man, the Ivor girl had difficulty. She tried a few different forms, unsuccessfully, so Devilyn just kept going at her with Dancing Man. Devilyn ended up winning the
match three to one.

  “I like her,” Gabe said. “She’s a good little fighter.”

  Victor nodded. “I like that she finds what works and sticks with it. Nothing fancy, just wants to win. If it’s the same point scored the same way, so be it.”

  Gabe agreed.

  Watching Devilyn had reminded Victor of his own daughter. He wished he could teach her the sword. He couldn’t think of anything he’d like to do more than show his daughter and his son Supervivere. He had often imagined how he would do so—what he would say, what he would do. He could see himself teaching them what he had been taught.

  He looked over at Jonah and Charlotte. Jonah didn’t seem cut out to be married to a descendant, but who really knew? Victor wasn’t a good judge when it came to that. He had thought his wife would be perfect for him. She had enjoyed the games, after all. She enjoyed Victor competing; she stood by him, encouraged him. And when, shortly before they got engaged, he told her that he wanted to raise his children in the same manner in which he was brought up, she agreed. He was ecstatic that day, feeling so lucky to have found someone who loved him for who he was, who understood him, who wanted to carry out this legacy with him. Liz seemed like the perfect partner.

  But after they married and had kids, her attitude changed. It was the kids that changed her heart; he knew that. Still, he felt betrayed. Lied to. He thought about it constantly, and wondered whether he would’ve married his wife if she hadn’t agreed to raise their children in The Ways.

  Probably not.

  But that was a moot point. He was married, he loved his wife, and he loved his children. If push came to shove, he would back down and do what his wife wanted. Still, he hoped there could be a compromise. Maybe Mel could teach them Hae instead of Grandma Mari. Mel taught many of the Novices, and had a way of lecturing with a bit of a wink and a smirk. She told the stories like a historian talks about dead cultures and their religions: straight and to the point, and let the listener decide what they believed. Victor appreciated that, since he for one didn’t really believe in the stories of his clan. It made no difference to him if the stories were true or not.

  Or maybe the kids could learn Supervivere and not compete. Mel did it, didn’t she? So why couldn’t his daughter do the same? The opinions of others be damned.

  His son, though. His son. He couldn’t imagine not being able to see his son compete. He knew there shouldn’t be a difference between his son and daughter, but there was, and he was man enough to admit it.

  Gabe nudged him. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

  “All the way the fuck over by the fucking food tent?”

  “You got something better to do, asshole? Or do you wanna fucking sit here all day and watch fucking Novices?”

  Victor thought about it, but before he could respond, Gabe leaned in close.

  “You know what I’m really gonna do? I’m going to start some shit,” Gabe said. He pointed his chin toward Clan Janso.

  When don’t you? Victor thought. He loved his brother, but Gabe was like gasoline: all it took was a spark, and he’d explode.

  “You sure? You might get your chance at Anton tonight,” said Victor.

  “Someone might knock him out before I get to him.”

  “Or knock you out,” said Victor. That earned him a glare from Gabe.

  “Are we fixing to start some mess?” Thrash asked sassily. He was sitting on the bleachers below them, beside Jonah and Charlotte, who were in their own world. “’Cause I love me some mess.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you do,” Gabe sassed back.

  “It should wait until the Advanced take the pit though,” Thrash said. “No sense interrupting the young ones.”

  “Fine, but we’re doing this,” said Gabe.

  “I’m with you, cousin,” said Thrash.

  Mel returned and sat down next to Thrash. Victor could tell she was agitated. Others might not have noticed—she was very good at keeping her emotions in check—but Victor could see the signs. The slight tightening around her eyes, her slightly raised chin, the way she used her hands when talking to Thrash. It was when they were kids and she dared him to hit her. One part arrogance and two parts do your worst.

  He thought back to Anton, and how he and Gabe could make him pay for his lies. He didn’t disagree with Gabe about the need to get even—just with the manner in which they did so. The way Victor saw things, whatever they did, it had to be a taste—just a small taste—of things to come. Something to show Anton how much Victor and Gabe didn’t appreciate his lies, or him fucking with their family.

  ’Cause no one fucked with their family.

  ****

  “She asked you to what?” Thrash yelled, bringing quite a few eyes, including Charlotte’s, to him and Mel.

  “Just what I said,” Mel said quietly. She ran a hand through her hair.

  “Why? No, she wouldn’t. My mother knows what we’re about.”

  “Sorry, cuz,” Mel said. “Not right now she doesn’t. I wish I could tell you different. I really wouldn’t have mentioned it at all, except I was wondering… How prepared is Charlotte?”

  Thrash blinked.

  “Don’t bullshit me now—be straight. Is she ready?” Mel asked.

  “I never went to train with her and Dad, but I know she’s been focused. She talked to me about her strengths and what she needed to work on. She’s been very methodical about it. I don’t have any doubts that she’s done everything she needed to do.”

  Mel immediately felt relief. She knew when Charlotte was interested in something, she put her all into it.

  “Is that all?” Thrash asked. “’Cause you looked more angry than anything else when you sat down, and I know you’re not angry at my dear mother.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh,” Thrash said mockingly. “Oh. Could it have anything to do with the hot and bothered woman sitting in Clan Ferus?”

  Mel had tried not to look, but she had seen Cori stalking to the Clan Ferus side, tossing her wet hair about and throwing angry looks Mel’s way. Now Mel felt a dull ache ghost itself into existence as she remembered what she had done.

  “Mel? No witty comeback?”

  “Let’s not talk about her, okay?”

  Thrash frowned, but said, “Okay.”

  After a few more games, Thrash disappeared with Victor and Gabe. They didn’t tell Mel what they were up to, but judging from their faces, it looked like trouble.

  Oh well, Mel thought, stretching out. More room for me.

  Her attention perked up again when Devilyn Wiley returned to the pit. As Mel watched the girl compete, she felt herself letting go of her negative feelings—regarding the vote, Cori, the confrontation with her aunt. Nothing had seemed to go as she wanted, yet she would cope just fine. Those who had voted against her had voted wrong, and not one person could convince her otherwise. And she would have faith in Charlotte. Charlotte would make it home safely. Mel was sure of it. And when she did, all would be well with her aunt.

  A roar went up in the Clan Kale section as Devilyn Wiley scored her third point. Devilyn looked almost stunned as she stood over the Clan Tam Novice. She would be fighting in the semifinals. Not bad for her first year. Not bad at all.

  “Hey, Mel!”

  Siva Reddy planted herself on the seat next to Mel. The woman’s dark hair was tied back, and her white tunic hugged her figure.

  Mel gave Siva a lazy smile. “Hi, Siva. I’ve heard some interesting things about you.”

  Siva returned Mel’s smile. “I’ve heard some interesting things about you too.”

  Mel laughed easily. “I guess everyone is talking about me, huh?”

  “Yes, of course. That vote was bullshit.”

  “Oh, I know. But it’s fine. I’ve decided I don’t care about it.” Mel reached to take a drink from her bottle, and frowned when she realized it was empty.

  “That easy, huh?” said Siva.

  “Yup.”

  “God, I don’t know how you don�
�t let all this shit get to you.”

  “I’ve got fortitude. Miles and miles of fortitude.”

  Siva laughed and passed her water bottle to Mel.

  Mel lit up like a kid. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I saw… what happened to yours.”

  Mel took a slow drink. “How much did you overhear?” she asked quietly.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” said Siva. “Just saw the aftermath. Did you want to talk about it?”

  “No, I’m good, thanks.” Mel smiled when Siva gave her a surprised look. “Really.”

  “Okay then.”

  After that, their conversation was lighthearted and fun. Mel always enjoyed Siva’s company—she was very smart and had a wicked sense of humor. Mel poked fun at her a little bit concerning Gabe, but Siva turned it around on her until Mel felt her ears were going to bleed.

  “Oh my God, Siva! I don’t need to know these things about my brother.”

  “I’m just saying, the man makes the earth move.”

  “I think I’m going to lose my breakfast.”

  ****

  When Gabe, Victor, and Thrash returned to their seats, Thrash and Gabe were looking sheepish, while Victor looked irritated.

  Thrash shook his head at Mel’s questioning look, and smiled at Siva instead. “Hiya, Siva!”

  At hearing Siva’s name, Gabe looked over and put on his most charming smile. Then he physically removed Mel from her seat—by picking her up and depositing her unceremoniously in another seat, to the laughter of all nearby—so he could sit next to Siva.

  “Gabe!” Siva said with reproach, but her eyes held humor.

  Mel smacked her brother’s arm and shook her head.

  She was now sitting by an irritated Victor, but Mel was not one to be put off by her brother’s bad mood, as dark as it sometimes got.

  “So, what happened to you guys?” she asked. “Gabe and Thrash looked like they had been spanked when they came back, and you look fit to spit tacks.”

  Victor was quiet for a long moment, so long Mel didn’t think he was going to answer. Then he said, “We were going to get Anton. Waited for him to leave the pit, and tried to get him alone. But Grandma Mari’s a fucking spy.”