by O. J. Lowe
He blinked. The message died into silence. For once in his life, Scott Taylor didn’t know what to say. Words wouldn’t come to him. He gulped. Felt the sounds not coming from him. His throat felt dry. There was some water somewhere. There had to be.
He reached for it, wanted to drain the glass. A clink and suddenly his hand felt cold. And wet. He held it to his mouth, licked it off. Everything felt numb. It was like getting bad news. Really bad news. Except it wasn’t that, was it? It was about the best news he’d heard in absolutely ages. Best thing to happen since Jess had agreed to go out with him. Since they’d moved on from being just friends.
And maybe, being silently honest with himself, it topped that. Just a bit. Okay just a lot. Not that he was going to say that out loud. It wouldn’t do him any favours, if he was probably honest.
His throat felt a bit more cooperative. He tried it. Something didn’t sound human in him. What came from him sounded alien and… Both were looking at him funny. Second time sounded a lot better.
“Wow,” he said. “Just… That’s…”
Okay, he wasn’t used to Jess showing much affection with him in public. Certainly not in front of Pete who’d enjoy ripping the crap out of the two of them for it. Jealous bastard and all that. But the way she let out that squeal and threw her arms around him made it that little bit more special. She felt warm and he’d always enjoyed the feeling of her skin against his. Most of it was so soft and smooth. His lips met hers, he could taste fruit and alcohol, sweet and bitter at the same time.
“Congratulations!” she whispered in his ear. “Wow, oh wow I’m so proud of you. You the man.”
“Huh,” Pete said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Nice work, Scotty. You did good with this, huh. Guess I’ll be seeing you there.”
“You’ll be seeing me there?” It didn’t register. “What?”
Pete shook his head, his lip curling in disbelief. “Oh wow… You never change, do you Scott? I’m coming out there. Competing. Won what I needed to, got the points, did the right things. And I didn’t luck into it like someone not a thousand miles from here. While you were sitting on your ass in the sun, I was fighting and winning.”
“I didn’t luck into it,” Scott protested. Somewhere, a voice deep in the back of his mind was already pointing out to him ‘Wow, I could end up fighting Pete. Never occurred to me, that. Oh dear. Ah, screw it. I can beat him.’ He could as well. If it came down to it, he’d be able to do it. He knew him too well. ‘Just as he knows you’. Same voice. Same method of ignoring it.
“You totally lucked into it, man,” Pete said. “Wild card… What were you doing for the past year or so? Won anything recently?”
“Not as much, no. But…”
“Be fair to him,” Jess said. “His winnings paid for this trip.”
That was true, they had. Last six months, he’d done some placings in the tournaments, nothing major. No important wins. He’d finished runner up in one, a few quarter final appearances, one or two semis. It soon stacked up over the weeks. But the strange thing was, finishing quarter finals at a prestigious tournament could sometimes be more profitable than winning a small one. It was all about finding consistency.
He was still young. You had to be something special to win regularly at his age. Being good came through experience, through learning from defeats, through development of the team of spirits. That was what he’d heard. That was what he’d believed. The best usually hit form after roughly five years, he’d heard that as well. And it was where it had brought him right now.
The Rojo resort, named for the owner Rokoko Jomari, a famed Burykian spirit caller whose portrait hung in the lobby. Not massively fancy. Good enough for purpose. Close enough to the nearest town, Arutko, for facilities, far enough away for privacy. Jess had wanted to come here. And well, he hadn’t been able to say no to her on it. In years of travelling, sometimes you needed a break. They’d been nearby and he’d just thought, why not? When in Burykia, might as well make it memorable.
Being fair to it, Scott had found it a lot better than some of the places he’d been to in the region. The whole trip here in the first place had been one big mistake from the start. Food was… different, that was being charitable. He’d hoped to see some of the veritable wildlife, maybe make a few acquisitions and win a few tournaments. He’d heard the competition wasn’t as stiff out here. That had turned out to be rubbish. The local callers were talented enough, plenty of them as good as him, maybe better.
Where he’d found the problems lay, the tournaments didn’t pay as much as he’d thought they would. Breaking even lately was about the best he could do. Saving his winnings felt like anathema. But he’d broken the habit of a lifetime and managed to keep some back. Just for times like this when he needed it. Summoners broke. New crystals needed to be bought. Air and sea tickets. Places to stay. It wasn’t the glamorous life style you always thought when you were a kid.
“Really, all his winnings?” Pete said sarcastically, scanning the area around them with his eyes in mock surprise. “Nice. Always said you should hook up with me, Jess, I…”
“Finish that sentence, I will slap you,” she warned. No trace of any warmth in her voice either. She meant it as well, Scott knew. “Hard. It might leave a scar. And not the sort that gives you character.”
“It’s true. She doesn’t hit like a girl,” Scott said. He ignored it. Pete was that sort of guy. Anything to push the buttons. Anyone else, they might have had problems. Jess would have been the least of his worries. “And neither do I, Pete. Thin ice. You’re on it.”
“Changing the subject,” Pete said. He looked a little abashed. Scott wouldn’t have been lying if he’d said he enjoyed that look. “I was just going to say that… What’s the easy way to say this?” He paused for a moment, as if rooting around for the right term. Many exaggerated facial expressions, he pursed his lips and waggled his eyebrows for several long seconds. His grin returned. “Okay, you suck. No way you’re going to win this. Bet you crash and burn and I wave you off.”
Alright, that hurt a little bit. Scott hoped he’d hidden the shock. Kept it locked down. Hidden the urge to punch him in the face. That’d be sweet. Right now, he’d settle for a quick quip, a witty comeback to knock him off. He’d enjoyed that way too much.
“Yeah okay, you wish.”
Mission accomplished. In no way at all. Inwardly, he winced.
“I can beat you, more than that I’ll spank your sorry ass like a little bitch. I’m going to go way further than you. I’m going to win it. Everything else be damned. And I’m going to enjoy the look on your face as I do it.”
“I bet you don’t,” Pete grinned. “Look at you now, sat in the sun with your hot girlfriend. I was wrong. You changed, man!”
“Hey!” Jess protested. “I didn’t change him. I mean obviously there were parts that needed changing, you met him before and…”
Pete ignored her. Scott was only half listening. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing that either of them had ever done, ignoring Jess when she was talking but it barely registered right there and then as they stared either down.
“Bet you’re rusty as shit. Going to hit you down a peg or two.” He already had a hand on his summoner, a crystal locked into the projector. He looked ready to rumble.
Scott smiled. Inside, he felt his blood surging, calling for the fires of battle to run through him. He knew what was going to happen. And privately, he was looking forward to it. Make him eat his words. “I don’t need practice to beat you,” he retorted. “I’d do you with both my eyes closed. My spirits do the talking.”
“That’s why your mouth is making all the sound,” Pete said. “As usual. They can hear you from miles away.”
“They can smell you from a mile away. You cut through a swamp or something?”
“Oh boy,” Jess said sarcastically. “This’s what it feels like to OD on someone else’s testosterone.” She rolled her eyes in disgust. “Lovely. Just how I always imagined i
t.”
“Never argue with the girlfriend,” Scott said, fishing out his own summoner from the pocket where he’d jammed it following the message from Ritellia. “Shall we do this, then?”
“Bring it on, Scotty,” Pete said playfully.
It was Scott’s turn to roll his eyes; he held up the device and pushed the button down. Hard. Harder than he needed to.
Way back long ago, people had thought the calling process was magic and whatnot. Maybe back then, it resembled it a lot more than it did now. Now, it was easier to explain if you had the manual for the summoner. Scott did have it somewhere. He didn’t know where. Flipping through it back in the day had made his brain hurt and his eyes threaten to glaze over. Sometimes you really didn’t need to know some stuff. Just because you couldn’t explain how something worked didn’t mean that you were less likely to use them.
Basic layman’s terms, it was how he preferred to remember them, each summoner could hold any number of crystals within it, usually a minimum of two, occasionally as many as ten. (Different people kept them in different ways. Scott favoured a special belt with slots to hold them. Jess used a bracelet. He knew for a fact Pete had a clip which attached to his caller holding them in place.)
Within the special crystals were the spirits, entrapped genetic codes of the beings that they used to belong to. The summoner contained a scanner to act as a copying device; it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Several beasts didn’t like the act, they often turned violent if they weren’t incapacitated first. The crystal itself not only held the data needed to form the basis of the spirit inside but contained the raw material used to create an actual physical version of the creature when prompted. Not only physical but mental as well. An actual complete duplicate of the creature.
Of course, the original version often didn’t survive long after. Something snapped inside them during the scanning process. Hadn’t ever actually been explained. Maybe it was spiritual rather than physical. Nobody knew. The best they had was an entire collection of theories that either held up to scrutiny or didn’t.
Seeing it first time was something you never thought you’d get used to. The way that Palawi appeared out in front of him, it really was something special. If only for those memories of the original dog from way back when in a happier time. Palawi had been the first animal he’d ever used the scanner on. Looking back, he remembered that all too well. He remembered the pain as the hound had died shortly after. No matter how much Palawi the second resembled Palawi the original, and the similarities were astounding. The same sides of a credit piece, yet it felt like there was just something that was off about him.
Shame because the creature was beautiful, golden fur and a squat fox-like nose, one ear cocked back over his head. His stubby tail wagged at the appearance, he darted over and licked Scott’s hand. He was a Premesoir snubhound, a loyal companion and a steady fighter. Scott reached down and scratched him playfully behind the ears.
“Hey boy,” Scott said. “Want to help me fight this joker here?”
It was uncanny. Sometimes he was sure that every spirit understood him in their own way. They probably did. Weird. Palawi sat down, tongue out and did that thing where dogs look like they’re winking.
Pete’s own choice was a little more surprising. (Not as surprising as him keeping his mouth shut at the choice of Palawi. He knew Scott had stronger than the mutt. If he wondered why, he wasn’t saying it.) But at least Scott was familiar with the creature stood in front of him, she was distinctively feline, her furless skin an icy powder blue for the most part. A series of ridged black bones ran across her back, the ears floppy and rabbit-like with rough tufts of skin hanging down from the tips. The tail was too heavy to lift; it dragged across the ground and curved out at the end into two separate points like a fish’s tail.
“Mermari,” Scott said, seeing the lake lynx. He knew about the creature from before, had been there when Pete had claimed her. It was always handy to have as much information as possible in this sport. “There she is.”
A little mew was the response to him, the feline face showing point ice-like fangs within the maw. Palawi broke from having his ears scratched by Jess to let out a snarl. A challenge? That sounded right. Because after all, they were about to fight. Jess moved out of the way, Pete shifted around some tables and deck loungers to make room. That they were by the swimming pool of the resort only added the challenge. There had been a reason Scott had gone with Palawi.
The naming traditions of those conquered spirits… Sometimes a name felt right. Some callers didn’t bother giving them names. Most did. It helped foster a bond. Plus, it avoided confusion a lot of the time. In Scott’s book, that always was a plus.
“Won’t go too easy on you, yeah?” Pete said with a grin. “Come on, Scotty, show me you still got it.”
“I’m going to do more than that. Never lost it. Going to take it from you. Let’s take him Palawi. Go for it.”
The snubhound bared his fangs and charged in, legs pumping, breathing ragged as he closed in on the cat. Pete gave the command and Mermari sprang out the way with almost arrogant agility, landing behind Palawi. Another spring and she was closing in on Palawi’s back, ice cold claws extending out and prepping to dig in deep. Palawi turned and snapped out with a sound not unlike the crackle of electricity. Mermari immediately recoiled back, bared her fangs with a hiss that almost sounded reminiscent of the roaring ocean.
“Cats and dogs, huh?” Jess said. “Go on Palawi!” She made an exaggerated one handed cheering gesture. Scott caught it out the corner of his eye, tried to hide the smile on his face.
Too quickly he realised it wasn’t a good time to let the mind wander, Mermari came tearing in and struck Palawi in the side with her tail, the appendage shimmering brightly, thick and powerful with muscle. Palawi yelped, Mermari darted back away. For a moment, Scott was sure that there was a look of triumph on her face.
He wasn’t going to stand for that. “She touches you again, zap her.”
That was the other benefit of taking the original creature’s genetic code. Upgrades. Couldn’t beat them. Made a hardy creature an even more implacable force. That made up somewhat for the loss of the old Palawi. That the new one was capable of channelling wicked amounts of electricity through his body. Anything that meant him harm was getting it full in the face.
“That’s okay,” Pete said. “We won’t touch you. You really think I’m that dense? Must have me confused for you.” He gave Scott the sardonic grin. Scott did his best to return it.
“Nah, I wouldn’t confuse you for me. I’m better looking for starters. Palawi, how about some sort of distraction.”
The dog grinned, threw back his head and let loose an ear-splitting howl that nobody was prepared for, least of all Mermari. She visibly cringed, tried to paw at her ears. And all that let an opening appear, one which Palawi stormed into. He tore across the ground like lightning, checking Mermari viciously. She bounced off the ground once, twice and rolled down into the pool. Pete grimaced.
A few other people around the pool were already gathering around to watch. One parent pulled their child out the pool. Scott was privately glad. Nobody wanted to see someone watching them get hurt. The bigger competitions that had thousands of people come to watch them took it very seriously.
“Got you where I want you now,” he said. Palawi looked proud, prowling the edge of the water.
“You just put me in my natural environment,” Pete said. “You can’t touch her from there. Needle in a haystack doesn’t cover it. You’ll never find her in the water.” There was an element of savage triumph about his face. “Stalemate.”
Where he was coming from with that, Scott didn’t know. All he had to do was have Palawi let loose a blast of electricity onto the surface of the pool and it’d be over. Basic science, water conducted electricity. So, what did Pete have planned here? Something was afoot and he couldn’t work out what it was.
This was why getting better and better at th
e art came with age. Experience. Fewer stuff surprised you as you got older. You saw stuff again and again. Different strategies. Different tactics. Your own got better and you learned to counter better.
“Take care here, Palawi. Something isn’t right here.” It felt hollow even as he said it. Palawi probably knew that better than he did. The dog gave the impression of being damn smart sometimes when it suited him to be so.
A few seconds passed. Nothing happened. Scott folded his arms. Palawi relaxed his haunches. Patience had never been his strong point. He paced up and down on the spot. Scratched an itch on his wrist. He felt the blood thumping in his ears, his heartbeat pounding for attention. His mouth felt dry.
Away with this!
He knew he’d probably regret it. Live and learn. There was nothing on this. And he might just spot some of Pete’s plan for future reference. Maybe even cannibalise some of the better bits of it.
“Palawi. Will you please…”
Pete whistled. He didn’t stop, carried on going with the order.
“… zap the water. Let’s fry them.”
Seeing Palawi generate all that electricity was a sight to behold, simultaneously beautiful and deadly at the same time. He saw Jess’ hair rise up from the static, all that power building up in the matter of a split second. And then it swept out into the water, the charge rushing through all that conductive liquid, it shone briefly…
… And nothing happened. He’d expected Mermari to be hurled out dramatically or float to the surface like a dead fish. He hadn’t expected nothing but that was what he’d gotten.
His face must have said it all because Pete burst out laughing. “Aww man, the look on your face. Priceless. That just made the entire trip worthwhile for me.”
“I don’t get it,” Scott said. It was no word of a lie.
A split second later, Mermari burst from the drink unharmed and smashed face first straight into an unsuspecting Palawi, biting and scratching and going in close. The dog let out a yelp, Mermari let out a sound of triumph. Blood ran down that golden fur, Palawi just couldn’t get anything free, bring up any momentum to get away from the savagery being inflicted upon him.