Kaji Warriors: Shifting Strength

by Kelly A Nix

  “It also took me five tries to complete the exercise,” Atae says. “What number is Truin on?”

  “What?” Marqee says. Sloan jumps up to call Truin. The prince makes a rude gesture toward his friend that illustrates his lack of patience for Sloan’s antics at the moment. Sloan laughs and shrugs, then he yells across the training room.

  “Oh, Prince Truin. It only took Atae five times to pass this test.”

  “Shut up,” Atae says. She swats at Sloan with a twinge of embarrassment as Beast snickers in the back of her mind.

  “No, we’ve been here every day since before the tournament started. I’m tired of this.”

  “Every day? You guys suck at this.” Atae gapes in surprise, and Truin jumps to his feet, drawing the attention of everyone around the ring.

  “That’s not possible. There’s no way she defeated that many opponents at once.”

  “You’re right. She didn’t.” Solum crosses over his chest. “You’ve yet to identify the purpose of this challenge.”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” Truin scowls at the royal advisor. “We’ve been doing the same thing for weeks.”

  “And we’ll keep doing it until you get it right.”

  “It’s true,” Atae says from her seat next to Marqee, and everyone swivels to her. “You can’t move forward without learning this fundamental principle. It’s part of the foundation of Solum’s teachings.”

  “You are not stronger than me, Blue.”

  Most of the fighters around the ring, including Seva and Debil, step back from the angry monarch. Beast swells within Atae at the prince’s attempt to prove dominance. Atae clenches her jaw and stares into the royal amber eyes. She waffles between challenging Prince Truin or ignoring him; submitting is not an option.

  Atae decides to follow Beast’s lead to skirt the dynamics of their odd little pack. She stands with a resigned sigh and glances at Solum before approaching Prince Truin in a calm yet defiant manner. The royal advisor can’t help a small, proud smile at his daughter’s tact. She manages a perfect balance between challenging the prince and accepting his alpha status. She is not submitting to him, nor is she fighting him. Atae stops a few steps from Prince Truin, and the tension in the room threatens to drown her.

  “You’re making this too hard. Your ego is holding you back,” Atae says. Prince Truin flinches at her comments and opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. He stands hard and tense in the middle of the ring like a ball of fire ready to scorch the planet. That’s when Atae sees it. She sees the confusion and frustration that smolders under the prince’s anger, and the young hybrid empathizes with her prince. She doesn’t like to fail, either.

  “You can do this,” she says. “It’s much simpler than you think.”

  “I don’t need your sympathy.”

  “Good, because you don’t have it.”

  Atae returns to her seat on the sidelines next to Marqee. Truin glances at Sloan, who shrugs in uncertainty.

  “Are you ready to try again?” Solum asks Prince Truin. Somehow the question sounds like a challenge. The royal hybrid nods and steps into the center of the ring while Sloan shuffles back to his seat next to Atae.

  “You will stay out of the way until called upon,” Solum says to Atae, Marqee, and Sloan.

  “Uh-huh,” Sloan says. “I won’t hold my breath.”

  “He says that every time yet never calls on us,” Marqee says.

  “Then maybe you should both pay attention to it,” Atae says. Beast echoes her annoyance in a dark orange burst.

  “What is your problem? Solum is the one that wants us wasting our time on the sidelines,” Sloan demands.

  “He didn’t say it was his call.”

  “Atae.” Solum admonishes her, and she cringes at her mistake. Truin glances between the father and daughter as he considers this new information.

  “Sorry,” Atae says. Solum sighs and shakes his head. He’ll never understand how Atae can go from aware to careless within moments.

  “Trikk,” Solum says. He motions toward the ring, and Truin’s second guard hustles into the fight.

  That’s his name. Atae notes, and Beast watches the older youngling exchange blows with Prince Truin.

  Impressive, Beast says.

  “What do you mean, it’s not his call?” Marqee breaks Atae’s focus on the fight. “Does that mean that it’s Prince Truin’s call?”

  “If so, nothing’s changed,” Sloan says.

  “What do you mean?” Atae asks. “That changes everything.”

  “Not really. Prince Truin won’t call for help,” Marqee says.

  “He prefers to do things solo.” Sloan shrugs, but Atae shakes her head with furrowed brows.

  “We’re pack.”

  “So?” He says. Atae finds it odd that Sloan didn’t argue her claim just the relevance since she surprised herself with the declaration. When did they become pack? Does she trust Sloan and Marqee enough to be pack?

  Yes, Beast says. She swirls within a proud, green cloud, and Atae agrees with a smile.

  And I guess Prince High-and-Mighty has to be pack too, otherwise what’s the point of dedicating my life to protect him?

  “Whether we like it or not, we’re never solo. That’s just part of being a pack,” Atae says to Sloan and Marqee.

  “Hmm.” Marqee considers the validity of Atae’s statement. Though he can’t argue against it, he shrugs. “It still doesn’t matter. Truin would be furious if we interfered without his permission.”

  “Seva,” Solum says. The purebred female rushes into the melee with an eager grin.

  “So?” Atae asks, echoing Sloan’s earlier attitude.

  Sloan chuckles, and Marqee grumbles. Sloan may receive more leniency from the royal family, but Marqee has no intention of earning the prince’s wrath. Sloan itches to dive into the ring if only to satisfy his beast’s unrelenting need to prove dominance. When Solum calls on a third fighter and Truin stumbles under a few missteps, Sloan wonders if interceding would push past the boundaries of his friendship with the hybrid prince. Truin is his friend but not a forgiving one. When a fourth fighter dashes into the ring, Atae jumps to her feet, but Sloan grabs her arm.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to help him.” Atae yanks her arm free.

  “Truin doesn’t want help,” Marqee says.

  “I am his packmate, not his servant.” With that, Atae barrels into the ring, leaving Sloan and Marqee behind

  “She’s crazy.” Marqee gapes as Atae brawls against Seva and Trikk while arguing with Prince Truin.

  “Yep,” Sloan says. His beast roars for satisfaction and the thrill of battle, sending adrenaline coursing through Sloan’s veins.

  “Schinn,” Solum says, much to Sloan’s delight. Schinn hustles into the ring and hesitates when he comes face-to-face with Atae. She doesn’t notice him since she’s busy sweeping Seva’s leg out from under her. By the time Atae realizes that Schinn has joined the fight, Sloan is kneeing the silver heir in the groin. Atae slams her elbow into a nameless warrior then jams the palm of her other hand upward across his jaw. The young purebred stumbles back a step before crumpling to the ground, unconscious.

  “The first point is mine!” Atae jumps in delight.

  “Shut up,” Truin calls from across the ring. “And get out. I don’t need your help.”

  Atae ignores the prince, and Beast vibrates with excitement from within a yellow vapor. She erupts into an orange warning, so Atae spins around to face a new threat. Debil lashes out at the hybrid with wild kicks and fast punches. Atae blocks each and slams her fist into the purebred’s gut.

  “What is your problem?” Atae asks before Seva pounces from behind. Thanks to Beast, the hybrid spins in time to pound her knee into Seva’s thigh, fracturing the bone. The taller Kaji stumbles to the ground, screaming in pain.

  “That’s two.”

  “Hey, I got one, too,” Sloan says.

  Truin g
rumbles under his breath at the obstinacy of his packmates. After he dispatches Trikk with a blow to one knee, Prince Truin glances at Marqee, who still waits on the sidelines. He paces the border of the ring, waiting for the order, while Sloan and Atae fight Truin’s battle. With a resigning sigh, Truin motions for Marqee to join the fight, and the dimpled purebred doesn’t hesitate. With all the fighters in the ring and four down, it’s four-to-six until Sloan calls out another point. Truin frowns at the idea of Sloan or Atae earning more points than he has, so the hybrid prince rushes back into battle. Meanwhile, Atae groans under a blow from Debil.

  “I’ll tell you what my problem is,” Debil says. She bashes her elbow into Atae’s side. “It’s you. Sloan is mine, and you can’t have him.”

  Atae tries to laugh, but her lungs refused to cooperate after Debil’s strike. Instead, the hybrid stumbles to the ground, feinting injury. When Debil pursues her injured prey, Atae trips the purebred and slams her knees into the taller Kaji’s chest. Debil cries out and struggles to push Atae off of her.

  “I don’t care about Sloan,” Atae says. She plows her fist into Debil’s temple and knocks her senseless.

  “Well, that was fun,” Marqee says from the center of the ring. Atae glances up from the unconscious Kaji under her to find all their opponents incapacitated.

  “Who won?” Truin asks.

  Sloan chuckles. “Not Schinn.”

  Atae stands to search for the silver heir and finds him groaning in pain on the ground. One arm lies limp at his side, blood drips from his broken nose, and a large bruise swells around his broken jaw. Atae cringes at the sight of him; he’s going to need a night in a recovery tank. Swirling in delighted yellow with bursts of crimson, Beast purrs for Sloan’s accomplishment, and Atae fumes.

  “Neither did Debil,” she says to the dark heir.

  Sloan’s smug smile twists into a concerned frown until he finds Debil unconscious with minimal injuries. Seva crawls across the floor to check on her packmate, and Sloan helps her up. She grips his arm and leans against him for support with taunting glare at Atae. Beast rages against Atae’s mind in a jealous tizzy, and the hybrid cringes. Solum clears his throat, demanding everyone’s attention

  “You all won,” he says. “You are a pack. You will fail and succeed together. In the Gridiron, you will live and die within your pack.”

  “Then why did you say we couldn’t interfere?” Sloan asks. “We could’ve done this weeks ago.”

  “Because rules don’t matter in the Gridiron,” Truin says. He helps Trikk to his feet. “We’ve all spent our lives learning to follow the rules, and now we have to learn when to break them.”

  “Except, Atae,” Trikk says. “It seems you have a jump-start over the rest of us.”

  “Maybe, but this was a good reminder that some rules must be broken for the sake of the pack.”

  Some rules and some trusts. Atae muses and glances at Schinn. He struggles to his feet until she helps him up. Despite the blood and bruises, Schinn manages an appreciative expression, and Atae smiles back. Noticing the exchange between his daughter and the Fu-Kai heir, Solum scowls at them.

  “Some rules, not all of them.”

  “How are we supposed to know which ones?” Seva asks. Atae spins around to face her with a bewildered expression.

  We? There is no we. Seva is not a part of this. Atae wrinkles her nose, and Beast chuckles from within a bluish-green spiral.

  “Honor,” Marqee says. “If breaking a rule, or choosing an action, taints your honor, maybe it’s not the way to go.”

  “And if the choice is between an honorable death and staying alive?” Solum asks the group. As expected, everyone raises their heads a little higher in response, and Solum can see that they’ve all considered this option. Feku and other elder warriors probably taught them at an early age that there is only one answer to this question.

  “Sounds like a good way to go,” Sloan says. His haunted gaze lands on the floor as he a brandishes a fake smile.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Prince Truin says. He walks away from the group so that Dr. Pwen can assess his injuries. The remaining younglings scatter at Solum’s command. Sloan lifts Debil and tugs her over his shoulder before assisting Seva to the medical wing. Atae reaches out to Schinn with the intent to help him, but Solum calls to her.

  “Atae, Schinn can help himself. It’s time for dinner.”

  Atae sighs at her father’s blatant interference, but nods in resignation. Beast nods at Solum with approval, and Atae fights the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she glances at Schinn and waves goodbye. He tries to say something, but his broken jaw is too painful. He waves with his good arm and watches Atae leave. Once outside the training room, Atae decides to say something that’s been bothering her.

  “Father, I think I should clarify something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Seva and Debil are absolutely not part of our pack.”

  Chapter 41

  “Urgh, when are they going to light this candle?” Sloan says.

  He swats at his buzzing camera amid the tournament arena, and Atae shakes her head at the impatient heir, while Beast analyzes the remaining eighty students hustling to their assigned domes. She notes several potential threats and weaknesses, and Atae reminds her that they will be fighting for dominance, not survival. They must avoid mortally wounding their opponents. Beast huffs, spewing orange, annoyed particles but relents.

  While her tail fidgets at her back, Jeqi scans the arena to confirm that all the starting domes are arranged along the walls. She suspects this is to allow ample room for the final challenge since the field is drastically different from the last round. The ground was filled in sometime during the week, and instead of the deep valley, a giant plateaued hill stands at the center. Unlike the valley, the mountain doesn’t host any vegetation. It just looks like a giant pile of mud. Usually, Jeqi doesn’t like the idea of crawling around in the mud, but after experiencing the giant clamox and the slimy, acid-covered water beast from the previous rounds, she’s grateful for a little dirt.

  Waiting for the few remaining domes to flash green, Jeqi fidgets between Atae and Marqee, and the purebred bumps against her shoulder.

  “Why are you nervous?” he asks.

  “I’m not,” she lies.

  “She has to get enough points in this round to keep her first-place rank,” Atae says.

  “Really?” Sloan says. “What’s the big deal?”

  “Oh, like you’d want to give it up if you had the top ranking.” Atae snaps a hand to her hip and jumps to her packmate’s defense. Sloan frowns, then he shrugs when he realizes she’s right.

  “I won’t be allowed to enter the Gridiron if I don’t graduate with the highest rank,” Jeqi grimaces in embarrassment. “My mom won’t let me.”

  “What?” Sloan lurches toward Jeqi in alarm. “Are you saying we’ve gone through all this with Atae, and you might not be able to enter the Gridiron anyway?”

  “Hey,” Atae says.

  Jeqi is skilled, but we are better, Beast says. Atae nods in agreement but bites her tongue as Marqee speaks up.

  “It’s okay. We’ll just make sure that whatever our objective is for this round, we do it the fastest or the most, or whatever we’re supposed to do.”

  “We qualify individually during this round, not-” Jeqi says, but Sloan interrupts.

  “Just because we have to qualify individually, doesn’t mean we have to do it solo.”

  “Of course not. We’re pack,” Jeqi says. She furrows her brows at him as though she never considered the option, and Atae giggles

  “They just learned that yesterday. The point is that we will make sure that you get the points you need.”

  “Duh,” Sloan says. He winks at Jeqi, and she grins.

  “Look,” Marqee says. He raises his arm to point at the hologram assembling above. Skiska’s round face and dark eyes peer down at the students with an excited smile, while Frack
smirks with one eyebrow raised over his deep-seated eyes.

  “Welcome young warriors to the final round of the twelfth seasonal Sula Academy Tournament,” Frack says.

  “Yes, welcome. Your performance today will greatly affect your chances in the Royal Gridiron-”

  “They know the stakes, Skiska. This is the fourth time they’ve done this. Let’s just cut to the chase.”

  “Good point, Frack,” Skiska flashes a hard glance at her co-host. “It’s time to hear the rules. Eighty students will compete, but only fifty will qualify for the Gridiron. As you know, this round will differ from all the rest in that each individual must qualify to complete the challenge.”

  “That means you weaklings out there that are skating by on the skills of your packmates, you’re in trouble,” Frack says.

  “Yes, you are. This round is designed to isolate you, so I hope you’re prepared. There are over eighty key bands hidden throughout the arena.”

  A map of the arena forms below the floating heads, and numerous yellow balls of light flicker to indicate the key band locations. Half of them cluster inside the hill, while the rest lay under the field. Atae wonders how they are meant to reach the buried keys, and Skiska is quick to answer the unspoken question.

  “A massive web of tunnels exists below the surface of the arena, and at the center of it all, lies the finish line. The finish line is a simple energy platform that you must step on to complete the challenge.”

  A familiar energy platform assembles above the hilltop and ticks in a slow circle. From a distance, Jeqi can see tentacle-like structures sprout from the plateaued mountain top and reach up toward the spinning disk. She hopes it isn’t another acid-spewing beast and sighs in relief when the constructs stay put after assembling, instead of wiggling.

  “It’s that simple, folks,” Frack says. “Find a key, step on to the platform. The first fifty to do it wins.”