Fiona rolled her eyes. “Oh, boy. Don’t tell me you got an invite to training camp.”
Jackson couldn’t help it, a wide grin split his face. “You know it!” he said, almost giddy. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a chance I could make it?”
Fiona eyes widened instantly. “Are you kidding me right now, Jackson? I only tried to tell you like seventeen times I was sponsored, but you kept cutting me off,” Fiona’s lips tightened again, as if recalling their previous conversations. “And I figured if you didn’t want to listen to me, then screw you, you know?”
Jackson gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I was…not cool.” he said. He had been a bit of an ass to her, and if he’d only listened to her he would have saved himself a lot of heartache. “Now come on,” Jackson said. “I know you’re not the Tyle representative because that’s me. Who’s sponsoring you?”
Fiona’s face revealed a rare moment of hesitation from a girl who seemed so confident and sure all the time. “I can’t say.”
“Aww, c’mon, Fiona! It’s McCallister, right?”
“I really can’t say!” Fiona said, all trace of indecision and hesitation gone. “You’ll just have to wait and find out.”
“It’s totally McCallister,” Jackson said. “I mean, you told me he wouldn’t let you train with me, so it has to be him, right?”
“Goodnight, Jackson!” She motioned to end the call, but stopped. “And congratulations. Next time let me talk when you’re dragging yourself through the mud.”
Fiona disappeared in a bleep, leaving Jackson alone with his thoughts and Asena.
Jackson plopped backwards onto his bed and let out a long sigh. The day’s excitement finally caught up with him. He felt drained. Drained but content. As if to make sure it wasn’t a dream, he reached over for the acceptance letter on his nightstand and held it out above him while he lay in bed.
This time, his eyes took in every word. Jackson’s heart beat faster upon reading the congratulatory paragraph. He could feel his desire to compete growing with every sentence. But then he reached the end of the letter — a bunch of details about camp itself — vaccinations for Asena and himself, important dates and…minimum Djinn requirements?
Jackson read the passage a handful of times, his heart sinking every time. Sure enough, just as real as the invitation was the following mandate: per Bronze League regulations, each tamer is required to have two Djinn in order to compete in training camp and the tournament selection process.
Two Djinn? It’d taken Jackson more than seventeen years just to get his hands on one! He glanced at the foot of his bed, where Asena was already sleeping. They might have had a rough start but he couldn’t image having any other Djinn in the world as his partner other than Asena. He always knew if he really wanted to be competitive in the DBL that more Djinn would be required, but Jackson never imagined it would be so soon. Figuring out how to tame with Asena was hard enough as it was, let alone adding another monster to the mix.
Aside from doubling the work and training, it came to Jackson that he’d essentially be doubling most of his tamer expenses as well. Another Djinn would have to be fed and cared for, and he could barely make ends meet providing for Asena after he helped out with rent and other living expenses with his grandma.
That didn’t even take into account where Jackson might acquire another Djinn. Asena had been a long-lost birthday gift from Jackson’s mother right before she left on the expedition that claimed her life. Lyotes were rare Djinn, even in the pros — Jackson knew how lucky and fortunate he was to have one as his starter.
Aside from the expensive, way-out-of-his-league Djinn at Sato Breeders, Jackson figured his only other option was to tame one of the local wild Djinn. But none of them were anything special: a scattering of Magglecaws, Felinxes, and Bobbities — not exactly monsters anyone would attempt to build a championship team around.
Jackson twisted the Djinn ring on his finger anxiously. It seemed like he took one step backward for every two steps forward when it came to taming.
Although he was exhausted, these thoughts led into a night of restless sleep. In his dreams he chased around some amorphous blob of a Djinn, but every time he seemed close enough to catch it, it slipped away. To make matters worse, the cries from a crowd chided him with each and every failure, with the taunts of his former trainer Cassius Briggs rising above everyone else. So troubled were Jackson’s dreams that he woke with a start, halfway through his mumbled sleep talking. Asena jerked awake at the sudden movement and shot Jackson an annoyed look before laying her head back down on the bed. Jackson sucked in a long breath as his conscious mind took over. Where in the world could he find another affordable Djinn? A Djinn that would hold its own against the other up-and-coming talent at training camp?
The question tumbled around Jackson’s head as he pulled on some ruffled clothes and dragged himself downstairs. It was Saturday and Jane looked to have been up for a couple hours already, judging by the smell of Bovan bacon drifting from the kitchen. Jackson slumped into his customary seat at the table feeling like he’d been hit by one of the electric monorails that ran from town to town.
“Too excited to sleep last night?” Jane said, casually reaching for a plate of cold bacon she had wrapped in foil. Before Jackson could protest, she flipped one of the strips to Asena, who snapped it up in her mouth before it hit the floor.
“I told you not to feed her that,” Jackson groaned, too tired to give his customary diatribe about Asena’s diet and the correlation to her performance and growth.
“A little treat now and then doesn’t hurt her,” Jane said. Had Jackson been more alert, he would have pointed out that not so long ago, the thought of feeding a Djinn bacon in her kitchen would have sent his grandma into a tizzy. The lack of response caused Jane to turn around and give Jackson a more thorough inspection.
“Honestly, I thought we were done with the grumpy teenager stage,” Jane said. “What in the world are you moping about now? For a boy whose been given the chance of a lifetime, you don’t seem very happy.”
Jackson explained the fine print of the letter and the problems he faced to tame another Djinn. Jane listened throughout as she always did and waited for Jackson to finish before offering her advice.
“If there’s one thing I know about you, Jackson, it’s that you’re not the kind of young man who lets things get in the way of what he wants,” she said. “And if you could win me over to let you become a tamer, finding another Djinn should be a breeze.” Jane took an extra moment, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say next. “And speaking of all this, do you happen to know if this Training Camp is something we need to…”
“It’s all paid for by the DBL,” Jackson said. It was a question he’d been anticipating.
“Oh, thank goodness,” his grandma said. It had clearly been weighing on her.
“But it’s still not that easy,” Jackson said. “I checked my bank account. If I don’t want to derail Asena, I’ve basically got enough funds in the bank to get another low-grade tamer ring, which I have to have to tame another Djinn. After that, there’s no way I can afford even some of the entry-level Djinn that Sato sells.”
For some reason, his mind flashed back to his dream the night before and another memory came back. One of the people taunting him had been Cassius Briggs.
Briggs!
He frantically dialed Kay on his watch. She answered and Jackson could tell at once that he’d woken her up.
“Why, Jackson?” she asked, blinking and rubbing the back of her head.
“Kay! Get up! We’ve got to go see Briggs!”
CHAPTER 6
“I get that you’re desperate, but I still don’t think this is a very good idea.”
Riding ahead of Kay on his bike, Jackson rolled his eyes. Cassius Briggs lived on the outskirts of town, and Jackson was keen to visit his old mentor bright and early — there wasn’t any time to waste. After waiting on Kay to get out of bed, he didn’t h
ave any time to spare arguing with her.
Even if he knew she was probably right. He hadn’t exactly ended his relationship with Briggs on the best terms.
Asena loped along with ease next to Jackson. In her current condition, Jackson thought she probably could have done it for days. The Lyote moved in a graceful, flowing motion of golden-orange fur and powerful muscles. Seemingly overnight, she’d grown from the feisty pup with an oversized head and paws into a nimble, robust Djinn. Although Jackson knew it would likely still be a while until she reached a level at which she evolved into her next form, he couldn’t help but admire her in the early morning sun.
Cassius Briggs lived in a rundown tamer gym on the outskirts of town. The building looked to have been a farm warehouse even before it was a gym, and since Briggs had taken over, it seemed he had done little to improve the property. Dull red bricks made up the structure, many of which were weathered to an almost tan color so that the building looked like it had some kind of speckled disease. Most of the remaining windows were cracked and the ones that’d already been shattered featured plywood covers. Briggs liked his privacy and nothing said “stay out” like a big, ominous building gone to seed just like its owner. Just for good measure, there were plenty of actual “stay out” signs spray painted across the edge of the property as well. Jackson didn’t remember those being there before. They must’ve been new.
After a depressing end to his professional taming career, Briggs had moved to Tyle to get a little peace and quiet. Since he didn’t compete anymore, Jackson had no idea why he’d converted the old farm warehouse into a gym, and Briggs had never given an explanation. Briggs didn’t talk much at all, and when he did, it was usually short, to the point, and salty.
Still, Jackson owed a large part of his early success as a tamer to Cassius Briggs. As crusty as the old man was on the outside, Jackson could still recognize the spirit of a competitor within and had finally been able to convince Briggs to train him in preparation for his first ever tournament not long after he’d found Asena. But in an effort to try and save his and his grandma’s house, Jackson made some decisions against Briggs’s wishes, which resulted in a less-than-happy ending to their relationship as teacher and student. As they braked in front of the closed gym doors, Jackson hoped enough time had passed that Briggs could put it behind him.
To Jackson’s surprise, the door wasn’t locked. He hesitated and then took a cautious step inside. Dust swirled in the air, cut by beams of sunlight piercing through whatever crack or break they could find. Although it was morning, the small amount of light coupled with the many faded photographs and ribbons on the walls gave the interior a reverent feel, almost like they’d stepped inside an abandoned church.
“Briggs?” Jackson inquired into the silence. He couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice above normal levels and suddenly wondered if he’d made a mistake coming here. The holy feeling changed and he felt like a spider in a trap.
Something moved in the shadows, and Asena crouched low at the ready. Jackson tensed, but a moment later a large feline-esque Djinn emerged from the darkness in front of them. In any other situation, Jackson probably would have peed his pants. But he knew this particular Hurricanther.
“Hey, Midnight,” Jackson said with a small smile. He extended a hand to the Djinn and his watch flashed, the Djinncyclopedia function pulling an updated scan on the Djinn.
Djinn: Hurricanther
Level: 93
Element: Wind/Water
HP: 2,356/2,356
Same level as before. Jackson wasn’t sure what he was expecting. It wasn’t as though Midnight was being trained regularly, and even if he was, going from level 93 to 94 required a ridiculous amount of XP — more than Jackson could even fathom acquiring.
Midnight rubbed his powerful head against Jackson’s arm. When Jackson scratched back, a deep, rumbling purr sounded from the Hurricanther’s chest. Asena wagged her tail in excitement and bounded around the other Djinn, yipping in excitement.
“He’s such a beautiful creature,” Kay said. “It never gets old.” She knelt down and ran her hands along Midnight’s glossy fur. Although he was an older Djinn, muscles still rippled beneath the Hurricanther’s hide. Whenever they went to visit Briggs, Kay made sure to leave Sunshine at home. The small Fenkit loved to torment Midnight, though unlike Asena, the Hurricanther had no desire to play Sunshine’s games.
“Where’s Briggs at, huh?” Jackson asked Midnight.
“Briggs is up here wondering why the hell his guard Djinn is letting a couple of trespassers rub his belly like he’s a damned kitten.”
Jackson started at Cassius Briggs’s voice drifting down from his upstairs office set on a railing above the warehouse. The man’s short bunch of salt and pepper hair shone through a dirty window. A moment later, he stood and walked out onto the balcony, staring down at them with his trademark disapproving look that wasn’t quite a frown but definitely wasn’t welcoming.
“Good to see you again too,” Jackson called up, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. Briggs had a way of dismantling people with his stare.
Briggs gave a terse nod. “Jackson. Kay.”
A long silence stretched out between them. Jackson cleared his throat and reached for the letter in his pocket. “I’ve got some news,” he said, waving the paper over his head. “I got accepted to training camp for the Bronze League!”
“Good work,” Briggs said. “I knew you had it in you. Now get.”
“Wait!” Jackson shouted. “I need to talk to you — I need your help!”
“You knew the deal of our arrangement before,” Briggs said. “And you chose not to follow it. I’m not your trainer anymore, and I can’t help you.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Jackson said.
“Oh, wow. I haven’t heard that from you yet,” Briggs said with a snort.
“It was a stupid move but you gotta see where I was coming from,” Jackson continued.
Through much begging, pleading, and an inordinate amount of borderline stalking, Jackson had convinced Briggs to help him train to compete in the Underground — unsanctioned Djinn battles where spectators and tamers alike could bet on the outcome of the matches. Briggs had agreed on one condition: Jackson wasn’t allowed to place bets.
For the first few weeks, Jackson adhered to the rule. Then things got desperate, and with his mother’s house on the line, Jackson caved and placed what he thought was a sure bet on a spur of the moment match. He’d lost and Briggs had found out, ending their professional relationship. In the months since, Jackson made several attempts to get in touch with Briggs to apologize, but all of his holo-messages and in-person visits were ignored.
“It wasn’t a decision I made lightly” Jackson said. “We were going to lose my mother’s house.”
“And how did that work out?” Briggs asked. “You still living in the house? I saw the tournament results — you could’ve beaten that Sato girl if you’d stuck with me.”
Jackson eyebrow twitched.
Briggs knew that was a sore spot and was provoking him on purpose, though Jackson was determined to show his old mentor he wasn’t quite the hot-headed kid he’d been before.
“I learned my lesson,” Jackson said, taking a deep breath. “Will you at least hear me out?”
Cassius Briggs jerked his hand and Jackson took it for an invitation to come up to the office. Kay remained below, still rubbing Midnight’s belly and cooing to the giant Djinn while Asena and Jackson scrambled up the warehouse stairs before Briggs changed his mind. When he reached the top, Jackson held out the invitation letter to his old mentor.
“Have a seat,” Briggs grunted. He reached over to his desk and grabbed a pair of reading glasses. When Briggs had been Jackson’s teacher, it was the kind of thing Jackson would have joked about — the old man who couldn’t see without his glasses. But, given the circumstances, he knew he had to be on his best behavior.
Jackson examined the room while Brigg
s read. Aside from a lumpy bed in the corner covered in ruffled sheets, there was a small desk, a table, and copious amounts of empty cans and bottles, all of the alcoholic variety. The room itself felt like it had been victim to an intense helping of hand sanitizer. Jackson noticed a tarnished trophy on the shelf and his jaw dropped.
He’d never been to Briggs’s office during their time training together and had never seen the retired tamer’s Gold League Championship trophy. Although it was covered in a fine layer of dust and more than a couple cobwebs, Jackson could still see the name Cassius Briggs, Midnight, and the rest of the Djinn from the championship team etched on the surface. Almost without thinking, Jackson’s hand reached up to touch it.
“Ha!”
A hard laugh burst from Briggs and Jackson dropped his hand, spinning around like a kid whose hand had been caught in a candy dish. Briggs held the letter out from him with one hand and smacked it with the back of his other.
“I figured as much,” he said. “You ever heard the term ‘practice bait,’ kid? That’s what this invitation is. Bronze League regulations state that anyone in Training Camp can only skirmish against other tamers on the Bronze League roster, so they always reserve a few spots each year for tamers they don’t think will make it for the first string to beat up on.”
“What?” Jackson said, the knot in his stomach tightening. “Why would the town waste their selection on someone just padding the roster?”
Briggs pursed his lips. “Not every city or town in the region has a tamer to send to training camp,” he paused, looking over the letter again. “But you got a point there…what happened to that Sato girl, the one that beat you in the tournament? I would have bet a bottle of my favorite bourbon that she would’ve been the rep from around here.”
“She got in with a private sponsor,” Jackson said. “Now, do you really —”
“Hold up,” Briggs said, eyes narrowing.
Rivals Page 4