“Hey!” Jackson said. “I just realized you haven’t met your teammate yet — well, not consciously, anyway. I’d better introduce you.”
Asena appeared in a flash of light on the floor near the closed door. As soon as she materialized from stasis, she gave Jackson a reproachful look. He hadn’t let her out of her ring since the incident in the medical room the night before and Asena hated being confined to her Djinn ring any longer than she had to. Jackson guessed it was a result of the long years she’d spent trapped inside stasis — though, as far as he knew, when a Djinn was in stasis, time virtually stood still. He could add it to the list of things he still didn’t fully understand about the world.
“Asena, this is Scrappy. He’s the new member of our team!”
The Lyote let out a low growl from down on the floor. On the bed, the Magglecaw spread its wings and let out a wave of angry chatter. Apparently, some part of Scrappy had been awake enough to realize Asena had tried to eat him the night before.
“Hey, calm down,” Jackson said. The last thing he wanted was for Scrappy to re-injure his wing. “We’re all on the same —”
Asena’s growl rose to a bark and she leaped onto the bed. Scrappy jumped away just in time, and shot straight up on his wings into the air. With the low ceiling, the Magglecaw couldn’t quite escape the Lyote, though. Jackson was tempted to recall them immediately, but he knew that if they were to work together, they’d probably need to start interacting, and fast.
As Jackson tried in vain to get his two Djinn to calm down, Asena snapped at Scrappy, only to catch air. After each miss, Scrappy swooped down and pecked Asena on the head.
Jackson’s room descended into chaos. Asena barked and howled, and Scrappy cawed and shrieked. The two chased each other all over the bed in a whirlwind of destruction, knocking pictures off the walls, items off of Jackson’s nightstand and clothes out of the closet.
“Knock it off!” Jackson shouted.
But the pair ignored him. After several more attempts to restore order, Jackson begrudgingly returned the Magglecaw to stasis. Scrappy disappeared in a flash leaving Asena standing in the middle of the floor amidst a shattered picture frame and dirty clothes, panting. Jackson shot her a stern look. Asena whined and cowered down lower.
“Well, I guess his wing is feeling better,” Jackson said.
He looked around the destruction of his room and felt overwhelmed at the task ahead of him. Not bothering to clean anything up, Jackson crawled under the sheets and fell asleep. His last thoughts were of how much work it would take if he had any sort of chance of making it through the Bronze League Training Camp.
CHAPTER 13
Jackson watched his hometown of Tyle flash by from the monorail window. Fortunately, the camp was too far for Briggs’s trusty pickup, and with Training Camp being so close to one of the stops, it allowed them to travel there in the relative comfort and ease of the electromagnetic train.
As the trees whisked by, Jackson recalled one of the last few trips he’d taken on the train — the one where he and Kay had snuck away from home to Cormick so Jackson and Asena could participate in the Vance McAllister Invitational.
It had been several months ago, but at that moment, it felt like a lifetime had passed.
Over the past couple of weeks, Jackson had worked hard with both Asena and Scrappy to prepare for camp. They’d soon found out that both he and Asena had gotten a little soft over the winter in spite of their continued training with the local kids. Either that, or Briggs had decided to take things up a notch. Jackson figured it was probably both.
The first dozen days or so proved to be grueling as Jackson and Asena got back into fighting form — Briggs insisted that a tamer should be as fit as his Djinn to improve their connection during battle and to keep both parts of the duo sharp. Scrappy, while used to a hard life in the wilds of the preserve, needed additional conditioning. To make things a little more difficult, they needed to take things slowly to ensure recovery from his injury — yet not so slow that they couldn’t overcome the steep learning curve of a recently-tamed Djinn.
The training had tested the limits of Jackson’s patience, and that was aside from the fact that Asena and Scrappy could hardly be within ten feet of one another without brawling. Jackson thought it was strange, but it almost would have been easier to come up with a solution for the problem if both of the Djinn were as belligerent when they were apart as they were together.
Without Scrappy around, Asena behaved just as well as she ever had. She could almost anticipate Jackson’s commands in battle before he gave them. Their mental connection had never been stronger, especially after Briggs shook off the rust. However, any time Jackson added Scrappy to the mix, Asena only cared about getting in a cheap-shot against her new teammate. As a result, it affected her connection with Jackson as well.
Part of it, Jackson knew, came from the fact that Asena had been his first Djinn, and for several months, she had Jackson all to herself. There was no way around it — Asena was a proud, jealous creature who would die for her tamer. She saw Scrappy as nothing but a threat, no matter how much one-on-one time Jackson gave her.
Likewise, Scrappy made great progress when on his own. When Jackson could coax Asena into her ring and train solely with the Magglecaw, Jackson found him a quick learner. There were definitely some changes in tactics with a flying Djinn, but Scrappy aimed to please. In the last month, Jackson had already managed to teach the Magglecaw two new moves: Dive Bomb and Mini-Twister.
Unfortunately, Scrappy proved to be a troublemaker and naturally fed on Asena’s dislike for him. Whereas Asena saw a competitor for Jackson’s attention and love, Scrappy saw a target to unleash his mischief. Even when Jackson managed to get Asena to stop trying to eat the Magglecaw, Scrappy took every opportunity he could to sneak in a surprise peck at Asena’s tail or ear. It didn’t stop even when they were in the midst of battle.
Like always, when Jackson trained with Briggs, he faced off against Midnight. When it had just been Jackson and Asena, Briggs scaled the competition back just enough to provide Asena with a tough challenge. Because of that, Jackson got it into his head that Asena might actually be a match for the Hurricanther despite the severe gap between their levels. As soon as Scrappy entered the mix, he realized how wrong he’d been. Midnight was a Gold League-caliber Djinn through and through, no question.
Although the Hurricanther was well past middle-aged, even in Djinn years, he moved like black silk. Even with two Djinn bearing down on him, he hardly ever took so much as a scratch from their scrimmages. When they fought, Briggs always looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep. He examined the Djinn under heavy eyelids and showed no sign of movement other than an occasional flick of his finger or whistle to Midnight. The amount of Bond it must have taken mentally floored Jackson.
“How’s it going with the two misfits?” Briggs asked. He’d been asleep, snoring with his head pressed against the monorail window for the better part of an hour. Jackson felt pretty sure his mentor had been sleeping off another hangover but knew better than to ask. It wasn’t that Briggs wouldn’t tell him, it was that he had enough problems of his own that he didn’t want to think about going into the Bronze League with an alcoholic trainer — no matter how brilliant Briggs was.
When Jackson didn’t answer right away, Briggs raised his eyebrows. It bothered Jackson because the question was rhetorical. He’d trained with Briggs just three days previously and knew his mentor didn’t expect some great change to come over Scrappy and Asena in the meantime.
“Neither of them have killed one another. So as long as that doesn’t happen, I guess it’s progress,” Jackson said. His nerves were already at boiling point thinking about reporting for training camp — the reminder about his inability to get two Djinn to work together didn’t do anything to help.
Briggs snorted. “Don’t worry about it too much, though. It’s a common problem at your level. There’s going to be plenty of tamers here tha
t have just tamed their second Djinn like you. It’s not a simple process to add another Djinn into the mix — remember how hard you worked with just Asena? You can’t bring in a new factor like a third partner and expect there to be no friction. Like I say, if taming was easy, everyone would do it.”
Jackson didn’t know what to say. Briggs rarely offered praise and never tried to make Jackson feel better when he struggled with some aspect of taming. All he could do was nod. Briggs didn’t push the conversation further, so Jackson returned to staring out the window, fingers absently running over the Djinn ring on each hand.
On the plus side, there had been some levels gained in the past couple weeks. Asena gained two whole levels and the Magglecaw a whopping four levels. As it stood, both Djinn were about as strong as Jackson could have asked for, given the circumstances. The only downside he noticed was a decrease in his Bond with Asena. Clearly, she wasn’t taking the introduction of the Magglecaw too well.
Jackson skimmed through her stats.
GENERAL STATS AND INFO
Djinn: Lyote
Level: 16
Name: Asena
Element: Fire/Earth
Species Rarity: Rare
Tamer: Jackson Hunt
HP (Hit Points): 235/272
EP (Elemental Power): 90/125
XP (Experience): 452 to Next Level
DJP (Djinn Points): 2 Unallocated
Attack: 101
Defense: 63
Speed: 76
Accessories: None
Items: None
Status: Neutral
Bond: 68%
Move Set: Swipe Left to See More >>>
Jackson swiped up and then selected the Magglecaw’s stats.
GENERAL STATS AND INFO
Djinn: Magglecaw
Level: 14
Name: Scrappy
Element: Wind
Species Rarity: Common
Tamer: Jackson Hunt
HP (Hit Points): 215/215
EP (Elemental Power): 76/76
XP (Experience): 656 to Next Level
DJP (Djinn Points): 0 Unallocated
Attack: 52
Defense: 56
Speed: 124
Accessories: None
Items: None
Status: Neutral
Bond: 20%
Move Set: Swipe Left to See More >>>
The two of them really had improved quite a bit, but the question always lingered…would it be enough?
Jackson’s mind then went to Akamu, the only other competition he knew about apart from Fiona, and his anxiety peaked. Although Jackson would have been fine if they never crossed paths again, it would be inevitable at some point during their time at Training Camp. Jackson imaged the young Kaleo telling anyone who would listen how the kid from Tyle couldn’t even catch a Tandile when it was presented to him on a platter. For some reason, he didn’t think Akamu would have any problems getting his Djinn to work together — whatever Djinn they may be. Even if he was a major jerk, there was no way the son of Lei Kaleo wouldn’t be a great tamer.
So caught up in his own nerves was he that Jackson almost didn’t realize when the train came to their stop in Green Town. The aptly-named area featured even more trees than Tyle, except these were tall, thick stands of pines that encroached on both sides of the monorail. They were so dense Jackson could barely see the sun shining down between them. It made it impossible to see where the Training Camp might be.
“We’re here, kid!” Briggs said. He jerked a thumb out the nearby door that’d just opened with a whoosh of pressurized air. Jackson got up and grabbed his bags, but Briggs remained in his seat.
“I thought this was the stop,” Jackson said.
“Sure is,” Briggs said. “For you. Today, all you’re gonna be doing is getting settled in and registered and the like. You won’t need me until tomorrow morning. In the meantime, one of my favorite dives is in Green Town. See you tomorrow!”
Jackson wanted to argue, but the PA system announced last call for any passengers disembarking. Still not quite believing Briggs was just going to ditch him, Jackson hopped off of the monorail and stood on a gravel pathway, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The doors closed behind him and the train whirred to life with a magnetic pulse.
And then Jackson was all alone.
Well, not completely alone, he noticed. A couple other passengers with bags had disembarked as well and were standing around looking just as lost as him. For a brief moment, Jackson wondered if they’d all been part of some cruel prank, but then a couple of golf carts pulled up. The drivers all wore official DBL polos and ball caps.
“Welcome to training camp, rookies!” One of the women in the cart closest to Jackson shouted. “Load up your bags and we’ll take you to region headquarters. C’mon, hustle!”
Jackson tossed his bags into a small area in the back of the cart and climbed inside. The other would-be tamers followed suit, but they were all farther ahead than Jackson had been, so he had the cart alone with his DBL worker.
“How’s it going?” the woman asked. She gave him a wide, friendly smile which made Jackson feel much less clueless than he had moments before.
“Uh, good. My name’s Jackson. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too!” the lady said as they pulled away from the train stop. “Name’s Lisa — glad you could make it.”
Jackson didn’t know what else to say, and his stomach still felt like a jumble of Kasstors so he tried to take his mind off things by watching the scenery. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of a change to take in. The same tall, dark pine trees flanked both sides of the asphalt road the cart sped down. Jackson wondered if they put the camp so far away from civilization so other regions couldn’t spy on them. After all, a few lucky and talented tamers attending camp would, presumably, eventually be part of the rising tamers of the Silver and Gold Leagues, and competition was heated enough to where the DBL feared the prying eyes of insecure members of the upper leagues or even competing regions. He almost asked Lisa about it but decided against it.
“We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes but let me give you some info in the meantime.” Lisa spoke with the practiced ease of someone who had this speech down by heart and also enjoyed telling it. “Your first day of training camp officially begins tomorrow. Today, you’ll go through a few registration forms, get assigned to the barracks and get a quick tour of the facilities. I’ll drop you off right at the front gates and please remember: no Djinn are allowed outside of their rings at training camp until after your first week.”
“Why’s that?” Jackson had to speak up to be heard over the electric sputter of the cart motor and the wind whipping by.
“Just so everyone can get the lay of the land and to make sure no impromptu battles pop up,” Lisa said. “Trust me — once you meet some of the training staff, you’ll understand why you don’t want to break the rules.”
Jackson nodded. He had dozens of questions he wanted to ask but wasn’t sure if his driver was the appropriate person to bring them up to. Instead, he remained silent, but Lisa didn’t seem bothered. They soon approached a large wall about twice as tall as Jackson with an arch stretching across the road. Jackson squinted as they drew near. It was hard to tell, but it looked like hieroglyphic etchings were engraved on it — he made a mental note to take a look at it again if given the chance. However, once they passed the arch, his eyes were drawn to the wide open land that stretched in front of them.
“The actual training camp is about thirty-five acres,” Lisa said, as if noting the questioning look on his face. “All of the buildings are located in the center of the complex, and the rest of the area is reserved for the additional outdoor training facilities and open space. The walls are actually part of a repulser field that warn off any wild Djinn in the area. The last thing we want is for a Smilaguar to wander into camp.”
Jackson thought back to his encounter with a Smilaguar before he found Asena. �
��Yeah, we definitely don’t want that.”
Their — what Jackson felt like must have been awkward — silence stretched on for a few more minutes until the first buildings came into sight. Jackson’s eyes widened at the state-of-the-art facilities spread throughout the open field. A glass-domed roof with sun shades covered what must have been one of the arenas. Similarly high-tech buildings two to three stories tall surrounded around it as if the dome was the center of some giant tech-flower and the other buildings were its petals. Off to the south Jackson spotted rows of rectangular buildings with small windows. They looked like hotels and he figured they were the barracks.
The area around the stadium was paved with cobblestones, and a number of people walked by. Some were clearly fellow tamers getting settled in to what would be their home for the next month. The rest were comprised of a small army of DBL employees engrossed in the plethora of assignments and responsibilities that kept a training camp running. Every one of the DBL folks wore khaki shorts, a bright red shirt, and a tan, floppy-brimmed hat to keep the sun off of their faces. If it weren’t for their different heights and skin tones, Jackson might have mistaken them for a bunch of clones.
Following the rest of the carts from the train stop, Lisa brought them to a halt in a roundabout in front of a fieldhouse building to the left of the stadium. “There you go! Just walk through those double doors, and you’ll find camp staff ready to welcome you right out on the artificial turf. Good luck!”
Jackson still felt like his head was in a whirlwind, but he grabbed his bag out of the back of the cart and followed the rest of the group into the fieldhouse. A number of tamers who must have not taken the train joined them as well. In spite of his feelings, Jackson forced himself to put on a brave face and shoved his fears deep down inside his gut. The sliding doors whisked open and a scented wave of rubber turf and exercise equipment washed over him. A group of four people waited out in the middle of the field as the new tamers piled in and across the battle markings on the turf to join them.
Rivals Page 10