by Stone Thomas
“I sensed a sporting event,” he said. He stood on his toes with his hands on his hips. He smiled as he scanned our equipment. “You promised me a round against Nola in a game none had played before. You weren’t thinking of changing the terms of our little wager, were you? Stealing a few practice rounds when I wasn’t looking?”
“Of course not,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “I’ve brought a team, as your slime woman suggested. My fittest and smartest men. All have the same competitive drive I do, of course.”
“The problem is,” I said. “We have a hundred or so lumentors lurking in the shadows around Halcyon. Duul and Kāya are on their way. And I’m not sure yet that cannonball is even a good game.”
He dropped his jovial tone. “So we’ll playtest it. Either way, I win and I get my prize. You win, I’ll allow you to build me a shrine. I’ve waited long enough. It’s game day. You can play, or you can forfeit.”
“We won’t forfeit,” Nola said. She was in the air above Halcyon, her angelic wings blocking out the sun for a moment before she swooped toward the ground and landed.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said. “I just need to pick my team.” I’ve already summoned Lily, Ambry, and Mayblin.
No, I said. We’re not sending them in. Not this time.
But their skills are well suited to… wait. Look at that face. Someone’s thinking, someone’s got his thinky face on! Who’s my big thinker?
I’m not a child, Nola. I’m a man, and sometimes men care less about what their face is doing and more about whether they can avoid having their ass kicked by a girl’s father.
Someone’s cranky, she said.
Sorry, I just need a nap. Maybe after this game I can finally get some sleep.
So who’s in?, she asked.
This would be a test of memory for me. If Team Halcyon’s win was going to mean anything, we had to represent everyone that lived here now.
I don’t want anyone turning you down in public, I said, so reach out telepathically and ask for a nod to see if they’re willing to volunteer. Start with her, a gypsy farmer that came to us from Avelle’s temple.
The woman looked our way and nodded her head.
Now try that candlemaker from Meadowdale and that tailor from Valleyvale, I said. Let’s see if Mayblin will send us a goblin metalworker. Oh, and that guy there is from Landondowns. I can’t remember his special class yet, but bring him in anyway.
After a few minutes, our team had assembled. They regarded each other with a look that said, when we put our faith in Nola, we didn’t expect her to return the favor.
“Don’t be nervous,” I said. “The marbleskin potions will prevent you from getting hurt. I’ll skill you all up before you go in there.”
“Plus,” Nola said. “I’ll give you all cool codenames.”
Is that because you don’t know their actual names?, I asked.
Busted, she said. There are so many people here!
On that note, I said. I think it would help if you learned people’s names. First, because it would make them feel warm and fuzzy to have personalized attention from the goddess they serve. Second, then you could tell me their names, because I don’t always remember either!
That’s… really insightful, Nola said. And a little self-serving at the end, but mostly insightful. I’ll take more of a personal interest in people when they bring me my morning energem snack.
“You don’t need codenames, or gimmicks, or even powerful skills,” I said. “You just need to work together and play smart.”
“Easy to say,” the Valleyvale candlemaker said. “We haven’t shared a hill for long, and those five guys from Roseknob probably grew up together.”
“Which means they all think the same,” I said. “That’s a weakness, not a strength.”
“Are we playing or not?” Akrin called out.
“Just a minute!” I yelled. I cracked open everyone’s skill menus and spent their points. Last up was the man from Landondowns.
Great, he’s a dentist. I sighed. “I’ll go explain the rules to the other team. You all drink up.” I delivered a batch of potions to the opposing team, but slipped an extra vial into my own pocket, just in case.
Akrin stood by his men, floating five inches off the ground while his heel-whiskers floated behind him. The sun glinted off his shiny, silver body. Even his teeth were silver.
As the last of his men drank their potions, I extended my hand. “Good luck, your grace.”
He shook firmly, and in that instant, I felt it. We would beat him. We had to beat him. It wasn’t wishful thinking — Gowes was nowhere in sight. This was something else. Rivalry.
“How quaint,” the god replied. “You still believe in luck. Must make it easier when you lose, to blame luck instead of blaming yourself.”
The longer my hand pressed against his, the hotter this fire burned inside me. I was getting sucked into the competitive aura of the god of passing time. “If you’re so sure of yourself, maybe we should raise the stakes. Make this a little more interesting.”
“As it stands,” Akrin said, “I’ll get to recruit twenty of your people when I win. There’s no telling if they’ll choose to leave Halcyon, though I like my odds. Still, the message would be more convincing coming from Nola instead.”
“Fine,” I said. “But if we win, we don’t just build you a shrine. You build us one.”
“Out of the question,” Akrin said. “My city is nearly a metropolis. A shrine is worth more than a measly cannonball match.”
“Then fill three energems with your timelining power,” I said. “We have a few days to prepare for Duul’s visit. Better energems mean better defenses.”
“It’s a deal,” Akrin said. “Even if I am a little winqualmed.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “Your meaningless words mean nothing to me.”
“As an expert gamer, I often feel the pang of guilt associated with beating a lesser opponent,” he said. “I refuse to play down to you, Arden. I will crush you and my daughter at your own game, even though the thrill of my victory is tempered by your total lack of skill. It’s a winqualm, a word I invented to capture a feeling shared among persistent winners. A feeling I doubt you’ve ever experienced.”
I smiled, turned, and walked back toward my team. Nola, I said. Shake everyone’s hands before they enter the field. Akrin’s men are all juiced up on his competitive aura, but yours is clever insight. That’s our edge.
I’m one step ahead of you, she said. I booned them all. I hope that’s not cheating.
I took a spot between Nola and Vix on the sidelines. It was go time.
The first thing Team Halcyon did was climb up the ladder with their cannonballs one at a time and stare at the cannon as a group. They fired their first cannonball randomly, then brought their aim a little closer to a target with each maneuver. They were learning, but slowly.
The cannonballs shot once every two minutes. I imagined the energem inside each cannon pulsing brighter and brighter until its internal energy crested, spitting an anibomb into the cannon’s small back chamber — a space too small to contain it, forcing the rabbit-shaped monster to erupt immediately, sending a cannonball out the other end.
Two minutes between shots was a long time though, and four of our players headed toward the battlefield to protect our targets while the candlemaker studied the cannon some more.
Rapid-fire arrows filled the air as Akrin’s archer struck first. With short legs, our goblin metalworker was the slowest runner and easiest target. He yelped as arrows smacked against the black-and-white marble that coated his skin. Small fractures cracked down his face and chest, threatening to shatter the magic that hardened him for battle.
Our farmer turned back, dropped both hands to the ground, and began to glow. All around the little goblin, the field’s grass grew higher, thicker. I lost track of the small green man as our other three fighters charged ahead.
The cannons roared. Our cannon
ball flew wide, missing its mark by several yards. The other team knocked out our tallest target and cheered.
Our team stopped running. The other side turned back to crowd around their tower and push it to the twenty yard line.
“Maybe forfeiting would have been better,” Nola said. “I should have spent this time focusing on another premonition to see if you managed to change the future. I don’t want to give my father a chance to recruit away twenty of our residents, but I also don’t need another shrine that doesn’t work.”
“Look at that crowd,” I said. “Half of our residents are here watching this, and more just keep coming. It’s a test of our ability to work together and I think it’s working. People are rooting for us. We have to see this through.”
“Not to mention the thing you’re not mentioning,” she said.
“Yeah, I got carried away and raised our bet,” I said.
“Akrin has that effect on people,” she said.
“Do you think cannonball is any good in the rain?” I asked. “The sky is getting dark out there.”
“Something tells me this game won’t last long,” she replied.
Vix winced so I looped my arm around her lower back and held her close. I couldn’t imagine being kicked from the inside over and over again.
While we weren’t looking, something remarkable happened. One of Akrin’s fighters was walking off the field, his skin smooth and pink instead of marbled in white and black. Our own team looked worse for wear, but they had teamed up and taken out a swordsman.
The cannons fired again. We lost our medium-height target this time. Our cannon’s shot was way off, again, but then the metal ball began to glow. Its trajectory hooked left, closer to a spot glowing in the tall grasses. Our goblin was using his power over metal to magnetize the ball and draw it closer to himself, all the while hidden in the weeds our farmer grew.
The shot still missed, but not by the wide margin it should have. The goblin jumped up and down. He deserved to be happy. He was on the right track.
“Seriously,” I said. “It looks like it’s going to storm. The sky out there is almost black.”
“It’s not looking good,” Yurip said. I didn’t notice him creep up behind me.
“The clouds?” I asked.
“The exit polls,” he replied. “Gruppin Ingriss has some real support out there.”
“Aah,” Vix said. She leaned against me harder now.
Our team only had the ground-level target left, so they crowded around that instead of chasing after the other side’s fighters. In two minutes, Team Roseknob’s cannon would shoot a heavy metal ball right at them, if their players didn’t tear ours to shreds first.
Mercifer tugged at my arm. When I looked back he said, “I’ve done everything I could.”
My heart raced. “What are you telling me? Will she be okay?”
“Even if she pulls through, she may never be the same,” he said. “Cindra is strong, but I’ve never had to add slime to a body before. She’s shaking in her sleep and mumbling something I don’t understand. Hey, what’s going on out there?”
I looked back at the game. The grass around our last target was already waist-high, and now the farmer was growing a wall of vegetation in front of it. The tailor had a spool of thread out, and the dentist was fishing around in the weeds with his hands glowing orange.
The other team’s fighters charged at them. They’d clear a path to the target in no time. They had arrows, a mace, and a halberd at their disposal.
The plants our team grew bulged with life, their stalks growing large buds that looked about to bloom. The plants doubled over under their own weight, resting their massive round buds on the ground. At least they blocked the target for now.
“Do you hear that?” I asked. “Thump, thump, thump.”
“I do,” Nola said. “And it’s not the beat of excited sports-fan hearts.”
Vix’s knees buckled slightly.
“You should lie down,” Mamba said, running up to Vix with the gypsy mommas close behind. “I can make you a snake pillow if you want.”
“No,” Vix said. “I’ll lie down and rest when this is over. I spent too long on these cannon towers to miss the finale.”
Nola reached out for me and grabbed my hand. She squeezed, hard. “It’s not a storm,” she said. “It’s Duul. And that sound is a war drum. We’re out of time.”
“I thought we had four days!” I yelled.
“I told you something changed,” she said. “I just didn’t get a chance to see what. This is bad.”
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. “Master Arden? There’s movement in the forest.”
“What kind of movement?” I asked.
“The ghosts we’ve been watching. They’re closing in now.”
“Look, in the sky,” Nola said. “That’s Kāya, scouting out the path ahead. Duul can’t be far behind.”
“We need to forfeit and rally our fighters,” I said. “We don’t have time for this.”
Nola closed her eyes. “No. You were right when you said this match is a proving grounds for our people. We have to see this through.”
“But Duul!” I yelled.
“Will overrun us if we’re not united,” she said.
Our dentist, farmer, and tailor still worked frantically on their makeshift garden while the candlemaker readjusted the cannon. Its aim was off again. When the cannon shot, it would prove too high even for the highest target.
At the last second, the tailor ran away from the battle and toward our cannon tower end zone. She had her spool of thread in her hands, and as she ran, the flower bulbs lifted from the ground. She pulled those plants upright, using her thread like a kite string.
The dentist stood his ground. The farmer held two plants in his hands. Team Roseknob’s three warriors raised their weapons.
“Now!” the farmer yelled.
The tailor dropped her string and the plants crashed to the ground, trapping Akrin’s warriors underneath. The farmer’s hands glowed again and the flowers bloomed. Red, blue, and purple petals burst like fireworks. Then, the flowers grew teeth. Their blooms snapped shut and open again, shut and open, as the flower stalks bent toward the trapped men.
Plants gnashed and people screamed. When the three men had kicked back from the deadly flowering shrubs, their potions had all worn off.
The cannons burst again. Our goblin metalworker had scaled the other team’s highest target and he guided our metal projectile — but not toward the flimsy plywood target. No, he aimed that cannonball at the chest of the man operating the other team’s cannon.
The impact was audible. The man fell off the tower and, with a sound like Vix’s hammer against a boulder, lost his marbleskin in a cloud of marble dust. His own tower shot at our target but missed by a matter of inches.
I leapt up. “They did it!”
“Yes!” Vix yelled. Then she doubled over. Mamba bent with her.
“It’s time, isn’t it?” she asked. “Vix is having her babies!”
“We’ve got this,” one of the mommas said.
My arm slipped from Vix’s waist as the other two mommas took hold of her and helped her away. “I’m coming with you!” I yelled.
“No,” Vix said. “This may take all day. I heard what Nola said about Duul approaching. I know what you have to do, just don’t die. Please. For their sake.”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure I could promise that.
“She’ll be okay,” Mamba said. “The mommas have done this a hundred times.”
Akrin flew toward us.
“Well played,” he said. “I have to confess, I’m proud of you, Nola.”
“For winning a game,” she said. “You’ve never been proud of me in your life, but I beat you once at a made-up sport and now you’re gushing.”
“So much like your mother,” he said. “I’ve been proud of you before, and I’ll be proud of you again. Disregard me if you like, you always did.
“Of course,�
� he continued, “I’ll think over some improvements for the game itself, but you’re entitled to your prize first. Where are those energems?”
“We have a ton of raw ones, but we haven’t charged them up yet,” I said.
“I’m not waiting for that,” he said. “Just take this for now.” He aimed a finger at the ground and grew a silver pawn there. The four-foot tall man had no facial features and no arms. His body had the same reflective surface as his maker.
I gave Akrin a puzzled look. “It’s for the shrine,” he said.
“For the—” There was no point finishing that question. Akrin and his team pulsed with silvery light, then vanished.
“Three cheers for Halcyon!” someone yelled. Everyone rallied toward the center of the field, pushing us along with them. They crowded around us, chanting for Halcyon. For Nola. For me.
“That was fun,” the candlemaker said. “More fun than I thought it would be, considering I had a Meadhead on my team.” She was smiling, and she reached her hand toward the tailor from Meadowdale.
“Maybe you’re not such a Valleyfailure after all,” the tailor responded. She shook her teammate’s hand.
A new sound emerged now, like our cannons but louder. A geyser of darkness erupted from deep in the forest to the east. Its tip rocketed toward the sky with a torrent of inky black magic beneath it. When it exploded amidst the clouds it rippled outward, snuffing out every last ray of light in a five mile radius.
Savange kept my vision from plunging into total darkness. She whispered into my ear before breaking out in a deep, scratchy laugh. “Reminds me of home.”
+58
In Halcyon’s sudden darkness, the electric energem built into our defensive wall was nearly blinding as it lit up, sending an arc of crackling energy in each direction. We were lit for that split second as twin currents raced in opposite directions along our perimeter, crossed paths at our north end, and returned south where they met at the energem that spawned them. Then, all was dark again once the circuit was complete.