Fight Like A Girl

by Juliet E. McKenna

  Kai weighed up her options in a moment of hesitation. Was he naïve, or did he harbour a weapon?

  He bowed his head a second time, holding eye contact with the Rinpoche. That was not a mistake. He shifted slightly, and Kai sensed the tightening of his muscles. She tensed in return, holding her legs steady and keeping her breath slow. Three, two, one . . .

  Kai pounced, twisting her body between them. The boy’s blade struck hers, the thrum of metal echoing in her mind until she felt dizzy and they both leapt back. The boy‘s face remained neutral. That was not a good sign.

  Duncan spoke, but did not move. After all, he was no fighter. “Times are tough, Kai. Fighters follow you, and we are not prepared.”

  Kai recognised the insignia on the boy’s wrist from her captor’s cape. The feud between two sets of supposed pacifists had grown out of control. Why would they send a child here, to do such a task? It didn’t make sense. She cast her senses over him, but could find nothing useful behind his composure. He was a young boy who had intended to see the lama, and he had brought a knife.

  Sinead Rinpoche spoke behind her, the lama’s voice no different from before. “Combat can be important, and fighting is sometimes needed to bring peace.” Had she planned this fight just to prove her point?

  Kai shook her head, meeting the boy’s gaze. “Be careful. If you’re not trained in the blade, you’re just as likely to cut yourself as your opponent.”

  The boy narrowed his eyes, lunging to one side. “I am Sol. I have been trained to defend, and to kill.”

  His eyes flickered the instant before he attacked, and she dodged to block him once more. Her shiv strained against his dagger; the scissor point pulling away from the tape with the tension.

  She growled through gritted teeth. “Stop this.”

  The child’s voice was full of venom. “She persecutes us. She must die.”

  Kai nearly laughed. “She will only be reborn. Don’t waste your life for this.”

  The child hissed, swiping at Kai’s arm with his dagger. “It is already gone.”

  Many thought of Buddhists as peaceful people, ignoring those who showed their dedication using fire. Self-immolation was not often seen in Britain, but the Royalists had been “invaded’ by their Scottish beliefs, and they would fight despite claiming to take vows of pacifism. The flame of the Circlets, the one she sought, was an artefact everyone appeared to deem worthy of violence. Especially to those who lived here. It had, after all, been discovered in Brighton’s land.

  The blade tore a strip from her ruffled sleeve, lightly scoring her flesh. Sol hadn’t lied: he wasn’t new to fighting. “You wish to learn of combat? Loose clothing is a hindrance in many aspects of battle, but your opponent cannot accurately place your body for arrows or hits.”

  Kai swiped forward, slicing the boy’s shoulder pad; careful not to break his skin. He couldn’t be older than ten. She’d never harmed a child this young.

  The boy’s anger reddened his face, and his breathing became laboured. He may have had some training in the techniques, but his stamina was lacking.

  Rinpoche Sinead bowed her head. “Thank you, Sol. You have shown Kai our request. You may rest now.”

  Kai saw the confusion in his eyes. Had this been a set up? The boy was straining, still poised to attack. He thought himself proficient enough to kill, yet he wavered at a single comment. As long as she wasn’t cocky, Kai might be able to undermine him just by sharing her knowledge.

  Then Duncan was between them, cutting off any more conversation. “You will cease fighting by your own control, or be forced into submission. Either way, you shall not continue to fight. Which will it be, child?”

  “I’m not a child, I’m eleven! And you will pay for your actions.” Sol lunged for Duncan, but the man merely grabbed the boy’s wrist, and picked him up with a sweeping arm around his waist. The dagger dropped to the floor.

  The Royalists had brought this child up to hate, so early on in his life. Fury passed through Kai, and the desire for vengeance. She held it in check. She was leaving that behind; leaving all of this politics behind once she found it. For now, she was in front of her new teacher, and she needed her support.

  Sinead Rinpoche spoke. “Let him pass.”

  Kai stepped back, and Duncan replaced Sol on the ground. Now the boy’s face paled, and his hand began to shake. His gaze darted around the room, although his body remained still. Sinead Rinpoche remained seated. “Do you wish to learn of our ways? You are welcome to stay and eat with us.”

  “So you can poison me?”

  “So we can learn about each other. I wish to understand your hurt. Kai here can teach you to defend yourself, if you treat us with respect. But you are not going to harm me.”

  Kai watched him carefully. His face paled further, and his left hand trembled a little. “I . . . I need to check with . . .”

  “You will stay for lunch. You would be most welcome. After all, you cannot leave.”

  Then Duncan stood behind him, blocking the way out. The child nodded, a whimper escaping his lips as another robed figure came into the cave and nodded at the Rinpoche. She led Sol to a side room in the cavern, where a table lay ready for a meal. It must be strange to walk in to kill and be calmly invited to lunch.

  The Royalists clearly hadn’t trained him too well. That meant something greater was to come. He would only be a messenger; one they didn’t expect to get back. Kai shook her head. She needed to focus on her role, which was not to protect this clan from the Royals. She was just here for the box.

  The lama turned her head to face Kai.

  “You have passed the test of faith,” she said. “You overcame fear and anger while in this room, and defended us as you saw fit. I request that you take a robe and return to the centre. Meditate for a day and a night. Duncan will accompany you and will see that you are not traced by the Royals. While here, you are under our protection.”

  Kai swallowed. “I thank you, Holiness.” The term did not seem to anger the lama. Perhaps she remembered more than she’d thought. She stepped towards the other room, but was stopped by the same robed figure at the arched separation. The visual block stirred questions in her mind, and she fought the urge to ask them aloud.

  Sinead continued to speak. “You will train us in combat, and in lieu of a pilgrimage or service, you will ascertain this boy’s beliefs and train him to support us. He is . . . important.”

  Kai could hear the child sobbing in the other room. Did everything have to be a riddle? “With all due respect, Holiness, I cannot train an enemy.”

  “He is a child, led only by his peers and his guardians. Now, we are his guardians. He wants answers, and we can help him find them.”

  Kai swallowed a sigh. She wouldn’t be here long enough to worry about the boy. But his presence did spark her curiosity. “What do they want, sending children to fight us?”

  “To unnerve us, and to persuade us to give them the flame.”

  Kai fought to keep her expression in check. Everyone wanted the sacred flame. That was why the Circlets had been chosen and trained to fight.

  Kai hesitated an instant, knowing it was rude to ask. “He was not an actor for my test?”

  “He was, but I knew he agreed because it presented a true opportunity.”

  Duncan stepped forward. “The Royalists have been sending children to give us messages, assuming we will not harm those who pose so little threat. We give them a chance to hear our answers to their questions, and try to answer theirs, so they may learn of the true way.”

  “And if they maintain the Royalist viewpoint?”

  Duncan looked at the floor, and while Sinead met her gaze, Kai looked away from the lama’s eyes. “I see,” she said.

  The other robed woman held out a folded set of robes to Kai. She took them, twisting to see around the servant into the next room. The boy’s face was hunched over a table, staring through tears at a slice of dry bread. His whimpering had died down. With a quick glance ar
ound the room, she bowed to the lama and retreated back up the tunnel to the beach with Duncan in tow. She would find no more answers here.

  *

  Meditation came easily at first, following the thrum of music at a nearby club, and the chatter of people at bus stops, but within an hour, her thoughts began to chatter again. Wearing robes over her jeans offered some comfort from the hard floor of the Buddhist centre. She was ruminating on the day, reviewing every detail. This was how she had learned to fight, learned how to survive without the monastery’s protection. Reliving the moments of her fights, she noticed things she had been too busy to see at the time. The dining area had marked the end of the cavern: one long tunnel to an open chamber, where the Rinpoche sat, and then a curve to the left into a small side room with the table. And that was it. So where did they keep everything? There had been a wooden chest on one side of the cavern room, and more wall hangings.

  She had to locate it. Did they really keep it here in the centre?

  She ran through the surrounding area in her head, careful not to discard any of the information of her senses. There was a little hut behind the centre, and another room on the ground floor. Either could hold the shrine.

  She had been in every room in the building, and nothing stood out as the artefact’s resting place, which left only a few options.

  She could sense Duncan bumbling around the centre, getting ready to sleep. After another hour, she heard him settle. She had to be swift. Standing up, Kai moved her muscles slightly, testing the creak of each floorboard before placing her weight down. She made it to the door, which remained open enough for her to squeeze through. She kept her attention on her hearing, listening for both a sign of Duncan stirring, and her own movements.

  She shivered as she reached the hallway, content that he hadn’t woken from his sleep or meditation. She just needed to see it, to know it was here. Then she could act.

  The door squeaked a little as she opened it, but the garden behind the centre was inviting in the darkness, and a large shed at the edge of the grass looked promising.

  The noise outside rose quickly, and she had to dive back indoors, covering her ears. A club like the Pav Tav must be serving last orders, turning up the music for their encore. There were negatives to having a religious space within a city. She squinted, pushing through the immediate headache to make out lyrics. Slipknot; their classic ending track for a Tuesday night. Some things never changed.

  She remained by the door for a few minutes, controlling her breathing and bringing herself back to the present moment. It would pass soon, and then her ears would forget the beats that were trampling her to death.

  It was a long five minutes, but as the music fell away, chattering people were a welcome substitute, barely a nuisance in comparison. She scanned the nearby rooms for Duncan, but found nothing to worry about.

  Once more venturing into the garden, she crept up the path towards the shed. It looked more like a temple, with deep orange walls and a statue of the Buddha by the back door. Rather than risk the noise of entering, she hunkered down by the window to listen. A woodlouse crawled across the sill, but nothing larger than ants stirred inside.

  She crawled through the window, careful to slide quietly across the table on the other side, avoiding the chair in case it creaked. The shed was larger than it had first appeared, with two or three rooms. She crept through to the main room, the corridor’s burnt umber walls reminding her of all the bloodshed this mission had required. The main room was lighter, with candles illuminating the corners, bringing a sunflower hue to the walls.

  A figure in a deep red robe and sandals rested in a chair across from the mantelpiece. But she could see it, resting above the dusty fireplace. Nothing else mattered.

  The box was slightly bigger than her palm. The lid was up, and the flame swayed in its little pool of wax. She couldn’t risk it. Kai crept up to the sleeping monk, and pulled a bandana from her robe pocket, folding it to cover the man’s eyes and mouth. She pulled it tightly around his head. The monk struggled for a moment, but the powder worked swiftly, and he would not wake for a couple of hours. His body slumped in the chair, but she had already turned back to the flame.

  Much like the holy relics of fantasy, the owner could change everything with this one item. The legend had started small, and even the Circlets were not sure what power it possessed. But they had been charged as its keepers.

  And she’d found it. Now she could complete her work; taking it home to study its use. She lifted the wooden box down, careful not to let the flame flicker too much. It was intricately designed; with swirls and leaves carved into the golden lid and sides. The design had been perfected over centuries, the air-holes in the lid allowing the monks to carry fire with them wherever they went. It would allow the candle to remain burning even when it was shut in her bag. And now it was in her hands. She had really done it. She could finally return home.

  She closed the lid carefully, pushing against the stiffness of the hinge, and taking stock of the other supplies around the room. A few circles of charcoal, a vial of sacred oil, and a discarded head scarf hanging on the corner of the mantle. She could always use more supplies.

  Then she zipped up her bag and left the shed, heading back towards the city. Mission complete; time to go home.

  A lone seagull squawked in the night, when most birds were already roosting. The constant light of lampposts and sound of club music was not a problem for them. But amidst the bird’s chatter, she could hear the clinking of glasses and slurred laughter as the city wound down for the morning.

  Duncan stood at the bottom of the path, his eyes narrowed. Her heart skipped a beat or two, and she clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. Kai shuffled her weight to secure the straps of her backpack over her shoulders, and waited for him to move.

  “You know you are not to enter the temple.”

  Kai did not reply.

  “It is a good thing that the other members arrived this evening. With this indiscretion, it appears now they must oversee your sentence.” He pulled out a bell, ringing it softly in the night air. It was much like the ones used in her training as a child. “You have broken your vow. You will be taken to the quarry until you understand the impact of your actions.”

  Kai’s heart hammered. Mairi had survived the quarry. There had always been risk in this mission, but she had not anticipated Duncan involving the other Circlet girls. This would be interesting.

  She cast out her senses, glowering at Duncan as she sensed his anger. “You’ve called them here?” She could hear the swish of a coat, the distant thrum of an engine. Then the air fell quiet, and movement became her main focus.

  His eyes narrowed. “You should have known better. You’re not the only one with the discipline to learn how our senses work. I didn’t realise you were so foolish.”

  Kai didn’t respond. Two figures were approaching through the side gate.

  Aileen held a bow over her shoulder, a quiver of arrows hanging from the other, and Mairi flashed Kai a smile as they approached. Two other Circlets, girls pledged like herself, stood behind the servant of the lama; dressed in jeans and black hoodies.

  Duncan spoke again, more for the new arrivals’ benefit than for Kai’s. “I declare you a prisoner of our faith, for your broken promise and the desecration of our temple.”

  Aileen stepped forward, readying an arrow.

  Mairi remained behind her. “What do you say to this charge, Kai?” Her Scottish accent muffled the words, but Kai could work out what she’d meant. They’d been friends, a few years back.

  “I have it. Let me go.”

  Duncan glanced at the girls, startled. “Have what?”

  Kai stepped forward, pulling the box from her pack. The others wouldn’t believe her unless she showed them anyway, so she may as well reveal it now. Besides, the look on Duncan’s face would be priceless.

  The man’s eyes widened, and then the wind hit him. His eyes remained open as he hit t
he ground, Aileen’s arrow through his throat.

  He wouldn’t be the last one to die for this mission.

  Aileen stepped forward. “It is done.”

  The girls huddled up to Kai, shielding the box from the wind as she tilted the lid up on its hinge.

  Mairi let out a deep breath. “You did it.”

  “We did it.” Aileen corrected her. “Just think of all we can achieve.”

  Kai nodded, returning the box to her pack. It would be light in a few hours. If they took the train now, they’d make it back tomorrow. “Time to head home and get to work.”

  Kai put her bag down and lifted her robes over her head; folding them up and placing them by the door. Now they were all camouflaged: each wearing the official uniform of jeans and hoodies.

  As Kai slid her backpack on again, Mairi followed her gaze out to the North. “What will they do when we return?”

  Kai flashed her teeth and followed them back to the gate. Their return to the Highlands had been willed for years, but none of their cult leaders would expect them so soon. They had been like the coyote, stealing fire from under the noses of its master. Linking arms on the street outside the centre, she led them across the grass towards the station.

  “They shall call us heroes: the three Circlets who achieved the impossible. They shall finally take notice of the girls who stole fire from the Gods.”

  The Quality of Light

  KT Davies

  Battles shouldn’t be fought on days like this, Alyda thought as the sun broke clean across an ice bright sky. It reminded her of another spring morning, long ago and far removed from today, in every way save for the quality of the light.

  They had reached the beach in time to watch the faint shadows of night lift, leaving a band of bright gold around the blued rim of the world. The pearling glory of the sunrise hurt her eyes, printed a haloed image on her vision. Her grandfather was walking up the beach, head down, threading a path between the beams of light that glanced off the salt glazed rocks, off the gleaming helmets . . .