by A. Blythe
I folded my arms. "And why do you suppose she did that?"
"Because she thinks Pinky is a major talent, same as I do."
"Is that really the reason? Come on, Oscar. You're a smart guy. Has Gina always been supportive of Pinky? Or does she sometimes sound a little jealous?" A woman like Gina wouldn't be able to help herself. She'd make snide comments about Pinky and make sure Oscar heard them. Anything to undermine her perceived rival.
Oscar didn't respond. Instead, he took out his handkerchief and rubbed the doorknob again. I heard him counting under his breath.
"Oscar, do you have feelings for Pinky?"
Since when did I become an armchair therapist? Alyse Winters didn't talk about feelings, her own or anyone else's. Was this my human side slowly taking over?
"She's only eighteen," Oscar said carefully. "I've known her since she was a child."
"And you're the head of the Enclave in this colony."
He looked at me and I saw the sadness in his eyes. "It wouldn't be appropriate."
So he did love her. But Oscar Martinez was the head of the Enclave, and he was a stickler for the rules. Even if Pinky made a full recovery, they didn't stand a chance.
"Please call me if she wakes up," he said and padded silently down the long corridor.
I walked to the opposite end of the corridor where Reed and Cyrus were waiting for me.
"The final match has been announced," Reed said.
"Who's got the stones to go up against us?" Cyrus asked, still riding the high of our previous win. Never mind that Pinky paid the price for it.
"Ifrits. Team C from New York," Reed said.
My ears perked up. "They beat the Ghuls?"
"You missed it, sweetheart," Cyrus said. "Too busy getting your beauty sleep, I suppose."
Or staying by my comatose teammate's bedside. Reed laid a hand on my arm before I could throttle the smug bastard.
"We're already down one teammate," I snapped. "Wanna make it two?"
Cyrus grinned. "Hard to believe you're human with an arrogant attitude like that."
"I am not human," I said, with as much force as I could muster.
"Hey, it's not an insult," Cyrus said and held up his hands in acquiescence. "Our team is mostly human, remember?"
I remembered.
"You didn't miss much," Reed interjected. "The match was uneventful. It was like the Ghuls weren't even trying."
I was surprised the Ghuls lost. Granted, the Ifrits were a tough team, but the Ghuls looked unstoppable against the Hinns. Maybe they'd worn themselves out in the previous match. It happened.
"What time is the match?" I asked.
"Tomorrow at three," Reed replied. "So rest up. Try not to worry about Pinky."
How could I not? "Let's meet in the training room at six."
"Can we have breakfast first?" Cyrus asked. "I feel nauseous if I don't eat as soon as I wake up."
"Eat whenever you like," I said. "We meet at six."
"I hope Oscar has a new recruit by then," Reed said.
"My money's on Franklin," Cyrus said. "He was pissed when Pinky was chosen to replace Kieran."
I didn't care if it was Ron Weasley, as long as we had someone with magical ability. I'd made it this far, but the final match was sure to be brutal. I needed someone powerful enough to make up for my shortcomings.
I felt Reed's strong hand on my shoulder. "You'll be great, Alyse. Scout's honor."
I hoped he was right—for all our sakes.
Reed, Cyrus and I were discussing our strategy the next morning when the door opened and Gina stepped inside. Her mascara was smudged and her shoulders were slightly rounded. She looked appropriately contrite.
"Have you decided on Pinky's replacement?" Cyrus asked, his massive arms folded across his chest. If I were into bulging muscles, Cyrus would be the ultimate eye candy.
"We have," Gina said. Her gaze flickered from Cyrus to me. "It's me."
I stiffened. Oscar appointed backstabbing Gina to our team? Was he trying to get us killed?
"It's penance," Reed said and Gina nodded slowly.
"No way," I said, stepping forward. "This is not a fashion show. We need real fighters. A mage who will protect our backs. Not some jealous shrew."
Gina raised her chin a fraction. "I pledged loyalty to the Enclave many years ago. That loyalty now extends to you."
"The way it extended to Pinky?" I asked archly.
Gina squeezed her fists opened and closed. "I am guilty of an error in judgment. It won't happen again. Not on a field surrounded by thousands of spectators."
More like thousands of witnesses.
Cyrus sauntered toward her with his usual grin. When he placed his huge hand on Gina's shoulder, she visibly relaxed.
"If you're lying," he said, "I'll kill you myself right in the middle of the match. Make it look like an accident, too."
The color drained from Gina's face. "I promise, Cyrus."
He threw an arm around her neck and pulled her into the group. "Then let's get busy. Clock's ticking."
Reed and I exchanged a quick glance.
Penny for your thoughts, I said.
What choice do we have? he replied.
No choice at all. We were already fighting an enemy who would be perfectly happy to annihilate us. We needed another teammate. I would have preferred a djinni, but, as this was technically Oscar's team, I knew he preferred a mage. It may as well be Gina. She was powerful and she had something to prove, an ideal combination for our purposes.
"What's your specialty, Gina?" Reed asked, ever the pragmatist.
"Shields. Counterspells."
Cyrus clapped and rubbed his hands together. "Right. We can definitely work with that."
"I've seen these Ifrits in action," Gina said. "They're excellent shifters."
"I think we all watched the matches," I said. "To be honest, I was surprised they beat the Ghuls."
"I was, too," Gina admitted, "but I'm not talking about the matches. I've watched these Ifrits for months."
Cyrus nodded, understanding. "Oscar sent out a recon team."
"You spied on the competition?" I asked.
Gina shrugged. "Not just me. Oscar assigned a mage to watch any team that seemed like a threat."
"So who watched the Ghuls?"
"Nobody." Gina stretched her arms over her head in an effort to loosen up. "We didn't think the Ghuls were viable competition. They usually make it through one round based on brute force and intimidation and then get outsmarted in the second match."
She had a point. "So what did you learn about the Ifrits?"
"They haven't demonstrated all their party tricks yet." Gina cracked her knuckles. I wondered if she'd do that in front of Oscar. I didn't think he'd find it particularly attractive.
"What haven't we seen?" Reed asked.
"I don't know what their plan is," Gina said, "but they don't stick to your standard Ifrit scorpion or serpent. I've seen them shift into creatures that don't even exist."
"Loch Ness monster?" I asked.
She shot me a quizzical look. "And we know how much Ifrits hate humans."
"Not as much as we hate them," Cyrus said and threw a phantom punch.
"I've seen their winged fire creature," I said. "It's tough, but not unbeatable." That particular form had been Detective Thompson's introduction to Ifrits. Can't say she enjoyed the experience. We both came away from the Willow Street Steam Plant worse for wear.
Gina shook her head. "Not those. I'm talking Cerberus-style."
"A giant brain?" Cyrus asked, scratching his head. He could stop scratching. There definitely wasn't a giant brain in there.
"Ifrits don't usually choose mammal forms," I said. "Why a three-headed dog?"
"I think they were experimenting." Gina pushed against the wall to stretch her calves. "I'm just saying we need to be prepared for some weird ass shit."
I cracked a smile. "It just so happens that weird ass shit is my specialty."
22
Farah and Mix comforted me in the stands, trying to quell my nerves before the final match. It didn't help that there were a surprising number of Ghuls in the stands. It seemed that every Ghul within a fifty-mile radius had come to cheer on my demise.
"If anything bad happens, don't avenge me," I told Farah.
"I wouldn't dream of it," she replied.
Spoken like a true friend.
"Are you ready?" Cyrus asked, appearing behind me with Gina and Reed. "It's almost time."
"Ready is probably an overstatement."
My stomach lurched when a familiar figure in a bespoke suit took a seat in the VIP section, flanked by several djinn. Prince Simdan.
"I thought your caste didn't attend the Colony Games," Reed said, noticing his arrival. "Isn't it frowned upon?"
It was frowned upon, but I knew the reason he was here, dirtying his perfectly tailored suit to sit among the masses.
Me.
"Alyse, your boss is here," Farah whispered, tapping me on the shoulder.
"He's not my boss," I hissed.
"Do you think he came to see you fight?" Mix asked.
No, he came to see me die.
"How did he find out?" Farah asked. "It's not like you would tell him."
I clenched my fists. "He has his little spies all over the city. It wouldn't surprise me if he has someone keeping tabs on me." I took a step toward the VIP section.
"Where are you going?" Reed asked.
"To pay my respects, of course," I replied. And to find out how in the hell he knew about my participation, especially given the late entry.
I stepped into the aisle and trotted down a flight of stairs until I reached the VIP section.
"Can I get anyone a hot dog?" I asked. "Maybe some popcorn. I know you like things salty."
Prince Simdan glanced up at me, unsurprised. "Alyse," he said primly.
"What made you decide to come out to the games for the first time ever?" I asked.
"I heard the final round would be a competition worth watching," he replied. He patted the empty seat beside him. "Sit and chat for a moment. We have much to discuss."
We did? That was news to me. Still, I sat.
"Your match is against the Ifrits?" His black eyes assessed me. "And how do you think you will fare without your powers?"
"I've made it this far." Take that, Royal Jackass.
"Even so, isn't this little adventure rather foolish?"
"My friend was in trouble," I said. "I volunteered to help. That's what friends do, you know."
Prince Simdan looked mildly amused. "I don't recall you having such scruples in the past. In fact, I recall an arrogant and selfish young djinni."
I smiled sweetly. "Made in your image, Your Highness."
His expression darkened. "How will you defend yourself in this pit while wearing your cuffs?" he asked, anger bubbling just below the surface. "How will you maintain your Marida dignity?"
"I'm more worried about my life than my dignity," I replied. "Is that why you're here? To make sure I don't embarrass the royal court?" Typical Prince Simdan. My life is hanging in the balance and he's worried about spin control.
"We've come as a show of support for our caste. It's a rare occasion to see one of our own in the Colony Games, and you've made it to the final round. I didn't want to miss it."
"You didn't want to miss my great undoing, you mean."
He eyed my cuffs. "I believe I've already had the luxury of witnessing that."
"So you're not going to blast me for entering the games without your express permission?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. It was not the casual attitude I was expecting.
He sighed dramatically. "The whole court can speak of little else. Alyse Winters, powerless and human, putting herself in harm's way for the sake of a mage." He pronounced 'mage' with a disgust most people reserved for pedophiles. No doubt about it—Prince Simdan was a Grade A snob.
"So peer pressure brought you here?" I tapped my finger on my chin. "Interesting."
"I am here to ensure that a member of my caste completes the games unharmed," he said.
"You can't ensure that," I said. "Nobody can. These matches can be deadly. I've prepared the best I can in the little time I've been given and my teammates are, thankfully, very talented and, like me, very determined to live."
"You should go. They are about to blow the horn." Prince Simdan turned to face the field. "Good luck, Alyse. The Marida are rooting for you."
I returned to my friends, perplexed. The Marida were rooting for me? Since when?
"How did it go?" Farah asked. "Did he rip you a new one for acting outside his authority?"
"He wished me luck," I said.
"Sounds ominous," Farah replied.
I thought so, too.
I did not have a good feeling about this.
By all appearances, the other team looked like your basic band of Ifrits. I had enough experience with Ifrits to know they were more formidable than they looked. All four were males with similar muscular builds. Not to mention, they'd made it to the final round by beating the Ghuls which meant they were far from incompetent. I'd also watched them defeat a team of the Nephilim, so I'd noticed a few of their strengths and weaknesses.
You three keep the other three busy, I told Reed. I'll take care of Pirate Bob.
Pirate Bob was easy to identify since he wore a red headscarf and a gold hoop earring. The nickname was a no-brainer.
Reed gave a crisp nod and I waited for him to pass the message along to Cyrus and Gina.
The horn sounded.
The Ifrits advanced first and Gina immediately put up a defensive shield. I tried to ignore the fact that it didn't glow with a pinkish sheen. My chest ached anyway.
Although it was a reasonable move, we couldn't hide in a bubble all day. Eventually, the Ifrits would wear down our defenses and, by then, Gina would be a useless blob.
We needed to attack.
"Weapons out," I called. "Gina, drop the shield."
Cyrus unleashed the magical whip and lashed at his nearest opponent. I heard the sharp crack of the leather as it landed on the Ifrit's shoulder. The human form was immediately replaced by a giant yellow scorpion. So much for Gina's theory about weird shit. Scorpions were de rigueur for Ifrits. Then I noticed the thin and lanky limbs. Most scorpions' limbs were thick.
"Deathstalker." My voice rang out to alert our team.
A deathstalker was known for its powerful venom. At this enormous size, if the stinger made contact with Cyrus, the neurotoxins would be extraordinarily painful and, of course, lethal.
With this choice of scorpion, it was clear our opponents weren't wasting any time. They didn't want to play, which meant they had no intention of wearing us down until we acquiesced.
They wanted to annihilate us.
"Yo ho ho," I called to my intended target. "Newsflash: pirates are no longer a thing except in Disney movies."
Pirate Bob looked at me and snarled. I was pretty sure puffs of smoke came out of his nostrils.
"Have you been sporting that look since the eighteenth century? It's no wonder you can't get laid."
I don't know why I was trying to make him angry. Habit, I guess. Pissing off opponents was my signature move. I should really aim to replace it with something more substantial like—I don't know—not dying.
Pirate Bob slammed his fists together and grew another foot. I'd already been looking up at him. Now I was craning my neck to see his ugly mug. So not worth the effort.
"That's new," I said to anyone listening. He hadn't used this Apache Chief routine in the other rounds. I guess he was saving the best for last.
Pirate Bob was going to make a bold move. I sensed it with every fiber of my being. Good thing I was a walking armory. Reed had insisted I carry his spare sword in a leather belt around my hips. Not his Protectorate sword, but a magic-infused blade of the Nephilim. I withdrew the sword and held it in front of me, both hands gripping th
e hilt.
Pirate Bob took one look at the sword, bypassed me, and reached for Gina. She was in the middle of casting a spell on the other two Ifrits. Her eyes were closed in concentration so she didn't see the huge hand coming.
But I did.
I raised my sword and sliced downward, catching his wrist. I heard the crunch of bone and his hand crashed to the floor, blood spurting those of us within its radius, and the crowd cheered.
Pirate Bob didn't wait for an encore. His human form dissolved to mist and I guessed that, whatever form he took next, it wasn't going to be pretty.
Cyrus was doing a decent job of keeping his Ifrit occupied, successfully dodging the stinger each time it came close. His whip lashed out again, this time wrapping tightly around the telson. He said a word I couldn't hear and the whip rose, dragging the scorpion by the tail. Cyrus swung the whip like a lasso, gaining momentum with each turn of his wrist. I could see the sweat streaming down Cyrus's face. Whatever spell he'd done, it was taking a toll. He released the scorpion from the grip of the whip and the creature flew through the air, landing hard against the stadium wall.
Reed and Gina were busy with the other two Ifrits. She was using an immobilizing spell, her focus intense, and Reed was taking advantage of the moment to swing a cold iron flail at their opponents. The Ifrits howled in pain as the spikes gouged their human skin. The spell was only temporary so Reed kept swinging the chain. He knew lash after lash of cold iron would weaken them and prevent them from shifting.
I should have kept my eyes on Pirate Bob instead of watching my teammates clobber their Ifrits. Naturally, Pirate Bob was their ace in the hole.
He reformed at the edge of the stadium, just inside the white boundary line. I watched in horror as two giant hooves materialized, followed by massive blue legs the size of tree trunks. Then a tail like a whip slithered into existence.
What is it? Reed's voice invaded my thoughts.
Not sure yet. Immobilize your guys. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a little help.
It was excruciating not to be able to shift, to summon, to access my powers in any way. I'd felt trapped before now, but this was a whole new level of incapacity.