by Ky Tyrand
Sylor kicked the girl in the ribs so hard she spiraled across the room, crashing into a table that fell on her when she snapped through its legs.
In a daze, Je’nna thought she was going to have to dig her way out from under the table. But the tattooed man didn’t give her the chance. She felt a hand clamp down on her ankle with the strength of a vice. Even the slightest movement now hurt. There was no doubt she had broken ribs, the only question was how many.
Nevertheless, the moment she was hauled free of the fallen table, Je’nna curled up and made her move, slicing across the brute’s wrist with a razor sharp dagger.
The man’s hand snapped back with a wince as he pressed his wrist into his shirt to slow the bleeding.
Je’nna hadn’t completely followed through with her threat, but it was a solid warning.
Sylor growled. “Your little Princess owed me a great debt,” he hissed. “And she is no longer with us.” The man’s eyebrows furrowed. “And here I find you, prepared to pay the debt for her.”
Je’nna wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. I’m really not.
The tattooed man took the wooden table leg from under his other arm and pointed it at her, ignoring the blood spurting from his wrist. “Shall we get started?” he asked, as his lips twisted to a grin.
The wood spindle came down at Je’nna.
She tried to roll out of the way, but was too slow. Sylor’s bat thudded down on her leg, causing both thigh and club to bounce up from the floor. The girl couldn’t help but cry out.
Je’nna forced herself to the side and spit on the carpet herself, staining it red. She glanced around, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. The girl spotted her rifle across the floor, near one of her pistols. The energy would be of no use to her, and she hated the idea of using it as a melee weapon, but there was nothing else.
The man followed her eyes and chuckled. “You think your precious guns are going to help you out of this, little girl?”
The moment he turned his head, Je’nna threw her dagger.
She had no idea how she was able to pitch the weapon as hard as she did from such an awkward angle, but the blade landed true – burying itself into his ribcage, sinking nearly to the guard.
Sylor lifted his arm to see what the girl had done. He dropped the table leg to the floor so he could reach the hilt with his only hand. “Well, you really are something, aren’t you?” he said, looking from the buried dagger to the pink-haired girl. His eyes went wide when he caught hold of the handle and tried to pull it free.
Je’nna pushed herself back against the base of a chair, using it to help her up. She could tell by where the hilt was located that it probably hadn’t hit anything vital. It has to hurt though. The best part was that she didn’t think he would be able to pull it out from the angle his arm could reach. Not with only one hand.
She grinned when their eyes met.
Je’nna was nearly on her feet. If she could get at that hilt somehow, the girl was confident she could finish him. Her hand closed around a cushion resting on the seat of the chair.
Perfect. A pillow fight.
Je’nna whipped the burgundy cushion at his face and lunged at him with a kick.
The girl felt the ball of her foot touch the handle of the dagger, pivoting it at least a little within his ribcage. That was when she realized her boots had washed away, and she was fighting Sylor in bare feet.
The man knocked the pillow aside, yelling out in agony and rage as the blade shifted inside him, cutting into new flesh. He backhanded the girl before she could make another move, hitting her in the ear and dropping her to the floor.
With the soft rug no longer under her, Je’nna hit the wood floorboards with a loud crack. Her entire head rang and buzzed at the same time, feeling numb like a limb that had fallen asleep.
She looked up to see the tattooed man fighting the blade out of his side with a yell, before leaning toward her with the bloody tip pointing straight at her.
Je’nna tried to move, but nothing was working. Her head felt scrambled. She couldn’t think clearly, and her body refused to budge. The ringing in her ears gave way to the sound of wind howling in from the open door; the tattooed man’s angry growling; and a strange clicking noise…
It sounded vaguely familiar, but she wasn’t sure why. For a moment Je’nna wondered if it was her internal clock timing out. But she knew there was no way it would make sense before that blade cut into her. Will I even feel it?
The filthy tattooed face moved closer – almost as near as the dripping blade. His dark scowl curled into an evil grin.
Je’nna could smell his horrible breath.
A loud thud made him jump.
His grin vanished as quickly as his eyes rolled up.
Another thump, but the man didn’t flinch this time.
The wet blade dropped from his fingers.
After a third shuddering blow, the tattooed man dropped to the floor beside Je’nna.
The legless boy appeared in his place, towering above her with his hands on the barrel of her long gun.
He swung it high over his head before another loud wallop shook the floor.
Is he seriously using my rifle as a club?
It was last thought Je’nna had before blacking out.
30
The girl tried to identify the subtle smell. It reminded her of her childhood for some reason, but she couldn’t place it.
Ki’ara forced her eyes open in hopes of making sense of things.
It didn’t help.
Her body hurt from head to toe. But she was pretty sure the pain was a good thing.
It meant she was alive.
At least, for the moment.
What am I looking at?
Whatever the thing was, it was so close to the girl’s face that her eyes were going crossed trying to focus on it. With every breath, the odd smelling object tickled her nose, threatening to make her sneeze.
She pulled her head back to help focus, only to be reminded of how badly her neck hurt.
A leaf.
Mystery solved.
It was one of thousands surrounding the girl on every side. They were soft and supple, but Ki’ara was in them so deep that she felt tangled and stuck.
But not dead.
Not yet.
Ki’ara had no idea how she’d survived the fall.
Perhaps the cushion of soft leaves. Or maybe the G.R. had functioned just enough to slow her descent, if only a little. Ki’ara assumed the main reason was the armor. Though it had begun to retract, exposing her hands and feet, the hi-tech shell still protected most of her body. But not her head. Ki’ara had removed her helmet when she faced Tho’ran, and had yet to close it.
It was a miracle she didn’t get smashed open like a melon.
Maybe not a miracle for the people of Avalon, who would be better off had I died.
She tried to remember what happened. Did I really see Je’nna on that balcony?
If she had, and her friend was with Sylor, Je’nna was in serious trouble.
Unfortunately, the Princess was in no condition to help.
She tried to get up, but could barely move amidst the tangle of leaves, held together by thin stalks of green Tubewood. It occurred to Ki’ara that she was in one of the many hedges that decorated the Royal Family’s private gardens.
All she needed was a way out.
Could use my Niksuru now.
She could sense them both, only a short distance from her. They must have slid right off the steep roof, just like she had.
Ki’ara pulled on the tendrils of energy that connected them to her. She could feel both devices move. Retracting the strands, the girl reeled them into her tangled bed of leaves through gaps in the dense foliage.
Thrilled to have them both back in her possession, Ki’ara clicked the cylinders together and released what Blue Energy she could. After being exposed to Dark Matter, it was nowhere near as much as she was used to.
But with the plasma pooled together in the merged handle, there was at least enough of a beam to cut through the shrubbery.
The wind was much calmer down here on the ground, allowing a wispy plume of dark smoke to rise into the air from her foliage slicing. Though it was a relief to be out of the blustery weather, she couldn’t help but wonder if anyone might see the swirling gray beacon before it dissipated.
Ki’ara hadn’t seen any Royal Guardsmen since they fled the Library to make way for the spider-bots, but surely they were still out there, probably searching for her at this very moment. Perhaps more bots were, too. And there was no doubt in her mind that if Sylor was still alive, he would be hunting her. At least, if he thought for an instant that the fall hadn’t killed her.
She cringed at the thought of Je’nna being up there with him.
Despite the fact that she could no longer see Je’nna in her mind without picturing a black-rose tattoo, Ki’ara couldn’t bear the thought of Sylor harming her friend. Though she desperately wanted to know what the symbol meant, Je’nna had been good to her, and was one of the few people Ki’ara trusted.
I do trust her, don’t I?
Ki’ara had to stop thinking about her friend, and focus on her own situation.
This particular variety of Tubewood had big leaves and thin stalks, making it easy to cut her way through with only a little Blue Energy. Ki’ara decided that – under the circumstances – she couldn’t have found a better place to land from such a high fall. Not that she’d had any control over it.
A jolt of adrenaline made her jump as she remembered coming down. It had happened so fast that there was no time to think or react. Only fall. And then wake up in a great big salad.
Every movement reminded Ki’ara that her body was broken. But when a final slice brought her out of the bushes, she knew that there was hope. The Princess recognized exactly where she was.
Her eyes went straight to the small Abnukadin that she used to play around as a child. Ki’ara remembered getting into trouble on more than one occasion when her father caught her climbing up onto the tops of the columns. She had no idea what the stone circle truly was until only a few days ago, and hadn’t seen this one since.
And now it was only a few paces away…
Ki’ara was prepared to bridge that gap on her hands and knees, but was somehow able to get to her feet and stagger across the courtyard.
She put her hand on the first stone she came to. Despite wanting to sit, Ki’ara didn’t dare take the weight off her legs for fear that she wouldn’t be able to get back up again.
Upon touching the ancient device, her first thought was to activate the Abnukadin’s ability to heal, so she could recover from the abuse her body had been through. But she knew that wasn’t an option. Ki’ara wasn’t sure how many people within the walls of Stronghold were of the Old Blood. But she was aware of one.
Tho’ran.
She had no idea what condition her uncle was in – if he was even still alive. However, if he were to glance down from a window or balcony, he would certainly spot his niece, probably passed out and at her most vulnerable. There was no telling what he would even do to her at this point, but Ki’ara was certain he still thought she needed to die.
Thankfully, from within this stone circle, the Princess could travel to any other Abnukadin in Avalon. But she wouldn’t leave Stronghold without her friends. There was only one place for her, now. And, after a level of concentration that her head didn’t feel in any condition to perform, Ki’ara saw what she needed.
With a deep breath and a shaky saunter the girl pushed herself from stone to stone, following the code of symbols while thankful that only a couple of them were down near the ground.
An instant later, everything was dark.
The last thing the Princess heard was deep growling on every side of her.
And then she passed out.
31
CLICK, click.
CLICK, click.
Je’nna recognized the sound, but there was something wrong with it. Not rhythmic in the same way that it had been. The clicking was slower. Unsteady.
CLICK, click.
Between each click there was movement, and pressure against her shoulder, like she was leaning against something - being dragged along.
CLICK, click.
Heavy breathing.
Je’nna forced an eye open.
It was dark, but she could see a curved stone wall.
She tried to turn her head in hopes of making sense of things. Too much effort. Too much pain. She settled for turning her eyes, instead. She was leaning against a different stone wall, this one on her left.
CLICK, click.
Movement again. Her head flopped to the side. She was looking down at stone stairs. At prosthetic feet carrying her down them.
CLICK, click.
Je’nna suddenly realized she was on the boy’s back – that he was carrying her down the stone steps…
CLICK, click.
He paused on each stair, leaning her against the wall in an attempt to rest.
How many flights of stairs had the boy carried her down, one step at a time, while wobbling on artificial legs?
CLICK, click.
She could feel his hands under her thighs, supporting her. And she was tied off somehow, around her waist and over her shoulders, cinching her tight to his back to prevent her from dropping. Je’nna couldn’t tell, but thought the boy might be holding her small light in his teeth, shining it down the stairs.
CLICK, click.
The girl knew he was struggling. She wanted him to set her down, to relieve the burden, but couldn’t find the strength to say it. She needed him right now.
There was no doubt in her mind that she had underestimated this boy.
CLICK, click.
Je’nna fought to stay conscious, but found herself being lulled to sleep by the movement. She didn’t know if her last thought came out of her mouth, or if it was stuck in her head…
Be careful, Clicky. The last boy to rescue me is now dead.
32
“Are you alright?”
Ki’ara opened her eyes when she heard the boy’s voice. She sat up, surprised that the pain was gone. “Yeah, I think so.”
Mark sat down on the flat rock beside her. “You look like you’ve been out fighting more witches and demons.”
“Worse,” she said. “And better. I faced my uncle today.”
“Really?” The boy’s eyebrows went up. “How did it go?”
Ki’ara shrugged. “Better than expected,” she told him. “But there’s this other guy…”
Mark could see her expression change. Her eyes glossed over. “Hey,” he said, wishing he could hug her. “It’ll be okay.”
Ki’ara forced a smile. “Maybe. He wants to hurt me like you wouldn’t believe. And my weapons don’t work around him. He’s a monster, and I’m defenseless.”
“Why won’t your weapons work around him?”
“Je’nna says it’s because he has Dark Matter. Whatever that is. Supposedly it blocks energy. And everything I have – my weapons, my harness, my A.G. Regulator, even my outfit – relies on energy.”
Mark just stared at her, dumbfounded by the kinds of things she had going on. “Yeah, so I had a math test today…” he joked.
She smiled and tried to nudge him with her shoulder. As always, their bodies passed into one another, with little more than a tingle to let them know they were touching.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this – because I think you should get as far away from this guy as you can – but… maybe you should be protecting yourself with things that are a little more old-school.”
Ki’ara cocked an eyebrow. “Old school?”
“Yeah, you know… less Star Wars, and more Lord of the Rings.”
The girl stared at him blankly. “Huh?”
Mark smiled. Things were a lot different where she was from. “Less stuff that needs energy to work.”
“Ah,” she nodded. “I was thinking that, too.”
With the sound of the stepped waterfall trickling behind them, they both stared at the surface of the pond for a few moments, before Mark said, “I spoke to Jessi.”
The Princess perked up. “What did she say?”
“She said yes.”
“She’ll come here?!” Ki’ara’s face lit up, while tears began trickling down her cheeks. “Please, thank her for me.”
Mark nodded. “Ki’ara, I have no idea how to get her here.”
“I’m working on that,” said the girl, without as much confidence as she would have liked. “I just need to find this… Traveler.”
“It’s weird that we can’t find each other through the Abnukadin,” said Mark – not for the first time, and probably not the last.
“I’m told that the Traveler can.” Ki’ara sighed. “The worst part is that I met him just a few days ago, and I didn’t have a clue who he was. I even left him locked up in a prison, of all places. But he wasn’t there today. Guess with a name like the Traveler, he can’t be expected to stick around too long.”
“Think you can find him?”
“I have to,” she said, looking into Mark’s gray eyes. “I need to save Sir Grue’gan. And then…”
Mark waited for Ki’ara to finish, but she fell silent. “And then what?”
“It’s just…” the Princess let out another breath, wishing she hadn’t said anything. “My uncle told me something today…”
“What did he say?” asked Mark. He could tell this was serious.
Ki’ara frowned. “What if you could save thousands of people, but had to die in order to do it?”
Mark opened his mouth to say something, as if his first response came to him instantly. But, before he had a chance to spit it out, the boy paused.
Ki’ara thought he might say yes, or freak out, or maybe even tell her, ‘not a chance’. What he finally said was not what she was expecting…
“What if, by not dying, you could go on to save millions?”