by TR Cameron
His weapons clanged against it but failed to penetrate, and she lashed out with a vicious kick to his shin. The reinforced toe met his armor plate and they canceled one another out. He jumped back and threw his weapons into the air, then extended his hands. Lightning crackled from each to surround her and bite into her unprotected back.
She yelled more in anger than in pain and used force blasts to careen his axes away before they could return to his palms. She whispered, “Aspida,” and the shield charm she wore activated. A strange burning emanated from where it lay against her chest, which told her it had finally been consumed, but she had no time to worry about it. While she was protected, she raced forward with her sticks ready and rained a succession of blows upon him. He blocked with his forearms and shins, adequate to the task of protecting himself even without his weapons, which she was sure would return at any moment.
His counterattacks battered her defensive magic but failed to penetrate. It seemed like a stalemate, but she couldn’t disengage without risking Tanyith. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed that he had stopped moving and helplessness flooded her.
Hang on, Tay. Don’t leave us yet. She turned to the enforcer, who spun his retrieved weapons in his hands. “Surrender. Last chance.”
He shook his head and walked slowly toward her.
Fyre met his opponent’s magic with his own when he released a cone of frost at the incoming acid. When the powers collided, his proved superior, consumed hers, and created a tinkling shower of icy shards. He surged into flight with strong beats of his wings and banked to dodge the shadow bolts that erupted from her hands in pursuit. The puddle of blood that flowed from her ruined calf grew ever larger and it would weaken her further with each passing second.
From his aerial vantage, he noted Tanyith’s crumpled form and the enforcer stalking Cali. He changed course toward the Atlantean and flashed in front of him with his talons extended at the man’s eyes. He reacted quickly and brought one of his axes up to defend himself, but it hadn’t been the Draksa’s intent to actually damage him, only to provide a distraction. As he twisted to fly toward the woman, the enforcer bellowed in pain. Fyre swept in a circle around his opponent, dodged the weakly thrown spear, and moved faster than her wounded leg would allow her to do.
After three-quarters of a turn, his opportunity arrived. He breathed frost over his foe and landed with a quick flurry of his wings. The attack continued until she was fully frozen, a crystal statue of magical ice. Without delay, he took flight again to support his partner.
Fyre’s attack had distracted the enforcer enough for her to sneak a strike in above the armor plate covering his forearm and below the one protecting his elbow. She’d put her full body’s force behind it and twisted her torso to accelerate the weapon through its short arc, and the bone snapped at the impact. His weapon fell from his hand, and he gave a guttural shout of outrage. She circled toward his wounded side and waited for his next move.
When he made to throw his ax, she dropped her sticks and darted forward. She imagined a glove of force magic wrapped around her hand and whipped it in a chop that struck his throat above his protective collar. His body recoiled beneath the blow and his eyes bulged as he fought for the breath he no longer had any ability to draw. Her next attack, a punch to the same place, followed immediately and sealed his fate.
She didn’t pause to watch him fall but turned and ran to Tanyith. His hands had fallen to his sides when consciousness faded, and the sight of his unmoving form stabbed fear deep inside her. His face was a ruin of burned flesh and she forced herself to ignore it as she fumbled for the healing potions stored in his thigh pocket. She raised his upper body to vertical and spilled the scarlet liquid into his mouth, cursing at the amount that came spilled out again and trickled down his chest. She uncapped the second vial with her teeth and poured that in as well, then reached for her own.
With a convulsive shudder, he coughed and began to breathe again. He fell onto his side and covered his face protectively, and she sat uselessly beside him. Fyre landed next to her and leaned his warm body against hers, and she slid an arm around him, her gaze fixed on Tanyith. After minutes that seemed like hours, he sat and looked uncertainly at his surroundings. His voice was a harsh rasp and each word sounded as if it was ripped individually from deep in his chest. “We…won?”
Cali choked on a sob, then mastered herself. “We did. You took a shot that was meant for me. I’m so sorry.”
He barked a single laugh, then winced. “You…owe…me.”
She nodded. “I do. Anything you need, you’ve got it.” She handed him one of her own potions. “Sip this but go slow. We don’t know how it’s different from the regular ones.” They’d all agreed Nylotte’s gifts could be trusted but that it was for her use, not necessarily for anyone else’s.
Without argument, he followed her instructions and she stood and gazed around her. The crowd was silent as they had been after each battle.
I wonder if that’s the rule or if it’s because they don’t know how to react to losing. Her body ached, and she limped a little as she crossed to the armored woman. The magical pressure inside her increased and urged her to give in to the desire to incinerate her foe. Cali resisted with a shake of her head. I won’t become that person, no matter how hard you bastards push me.
Danna Cudon stepped forward and said, “You have two weeks,” before she turned toward the tunnel’s exit.
“Hold on a second. Aren’t you forgetting something? Something you perhaps failed to mention previously?”
The woman turned back to her with a small grin. She straightened her tie before she asked with a look of perfect innocence on her face, “Whatever do you mean?”
Cali stepped closer so she was barely a foot away from the other woman. “By the rules of the trial you’ve invoked, you owe me a boon for my win.”
Cudon shrugged. “Ah, you can learn. Very well. What is it you want? An extra week perhaps?”
She’d thought the question through ahead of time and had the answer ready. Her first choice—to request that the whole thing be ended—wasn’t allowed, unfortunately. “Tell me everything you know about the engravings on the sword piece your gang holds.”
The woman’s eyes widened and for a moment, Cali was sure she’d struck a nerve. Then, the wench laughed and she realized she hadn’t. When she’d settled, Cudon said, “What a useless request. You could have found that information in all kinds of places. Honestly, Caliste, while your fighting skills are commendable, your intellect never fails to disappoint.”
“Answer the question,” she demanded through clenched teeth. Her brain added several insulting names she was generally reluctant to speak aloud.
“But of course. The runes are from the shared language of the Atlantean nobility. Every house has a translation. Too bad you don’t have access.”
She shook her head. “Nice try, wench. Your lying skills need work. Now, if any of you try to mess with us while we leave, you will be in violation of the rules of the ritual. And now that I understand the rules, I know who to inform if you fail to follow them.”
Cudon paled slightly, and she knew her comment had hit home. Not as if I have any desire to meet the Empress who opposes me but she doesn’t need to know that. She walked slowly backward and only turned when she had both her allies beside her and they were outside the glow from the fires.
Tanyith coughed. He sounded much better but an injury like that would take a little time to come back from, even with the healing potions. “So, that was fun. You’ll have to pay for my ticket to New Atlantis if you want me to join you for the next one.”
“You got it.” She sighed and added, “We might need to convince Zeb to join us after all. Heaven only knows what kind of scumbags could be waiting for us in the next bout.”
Fyre snorted. “No matter who they send, we will always be stronger. They are fighting for power. We are fighting for survival.”
She looked at him. “You’re sm
arter than you look.”
He gave her one of his superior Draksa grins. “You’re not.”
She led the way through the door and into the outside world with Tanyith’s laughter filling her ears.
Chapter Eight
After the previous night’s battle, Cali had found it a challenge to crawl out of bed and get to the dojo. It had taken Wham’s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go to do it and for the umpteenth time, she cursed the day Dasante had convinced her to let him create her wake-up soundtrack. But, as always, there was no denying that it was effective. After a quick shower, she’d thrown on sweats and a t-shirt, retrieved her gym bag, and headed out.
A giant yawn escaped her as she pulled the rear door of the Aikido studio closed behind her. She flicked the lights in the back rooms on, then the ones over the main training area. The front she left dark as it wasn’t on her cleaning agenda for the day.
Emalia had suggested she might want to give up this task, given how busy she was. She had reassured her great aunt that it was work she valued and moreover, it was work that Ikehara trusted her with, which made it worth doing regardless of any other consideration. He must have seen potential in her from the start since allowing her to do some work at the dojo was the only way she’d been able to afford to train with him. Now, the additional instruction she received was essential to her survival, and even if she could have afforded it with ease, she wouldn’t stop rewarding his faith in her by abandoning the task.
Plus, it was a good way to give her mind a break while her body occupied itself with the work. After quickly finishing the changing rooms and running the Bissell sweeper over the hallway carpet, she took the dry mop to the padded canvas mat that covered the instructional space. Her pattern was always the same, side to side starting at the end nearest the front door and ending in the rear corridor. Most days, like today, a quick rerun of “wax on, wax off” played in her head but otherwise, her thoughts floated free. This was as close as she got to truly Zen.
When she reached the halfway point, she realized she was getting feelings from Fyre. His sleeping emotions were instantly recognizable, and everything seemed fine. It jolted her out of her reverie, though, because she’d never been able to sense him at such a distance before. She pushed back a little to send warmth and love to him, and those same things were quickly reciprocated, which suggested she had reached him as well.
Holy hell. That’s a change. Cali shook her head and continued her work while she let his warm comfort fill her. By the time the task was complete, she was more relaxed than she’d been in recent memory.
She stowed the mop and stepped into the center of the mat where she bound her hair into a ponytail holder. With that out the way, she assumed a ready stance and moved through the steps of her forms as a warmup, visualizing the opponents she would normally execute the moves on. As her muscles loosened fully, she added in follow-up attacks, strikes, and kicks preceding the takedowns and locks that were the traditional elements of the art, increasing from quarter- to half-speed. Her mind created additional enemies to defend against, and she envisioned the blocks and throws she would use against them.
Her intense focus meant she was sufficiently lost in the practice that she failed to notice Ikehara’s entrance and only became aware of his presence when he stood at the edge of the mat and clapped. She turned and bowed and he nodded in acknowledgment.
“Your form is excellent, Cali.”
She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Sensei.”
“So, what shall we practice today?”
Immediately, she thought back to her last battle. The axes hadn’t been too different than the swords and knives they’d trained with. But the spear had been unique. She raised her eyes to the one that stretched across the top of the weapons wall. “The spear, please.”
He nodded. “Very well.” He retrieved it and spun it from one hand to the other, twirled it behind his back, and raised it overhead. The man was amazing to watch, his power and skill evident in every movement he made from walking to fighting. She still had moments where she couldn’t believe she was so lucky as to have found such an excellent teacher. He stopped and faced her with the spear in his right hand, the point in the air and its base on the ground. “Are you ready?”
Cali summoned her sticks and wove them in a figure-eight pattern, then stepped back into a guard position. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The sensei grinned at the response and launched into an attack. The spear whistled in from her left and she blocked it easily. He twirled it in a circle overhead to bring it in from the opposite direction, and she intercepted that too. When he whipped it at her left shoulder, then her right, she guided the blows away and passed up the opportunity for counterattacks. Their sessions had a rhythm and started slowly and obviously before they moved into more advanced techniques and challenges. Beyond the weapons skills she developed, the practice also taught her to conserve her resources in the certainty that there would always be something more dangerous to follow. The habit had served her well on any number of occasions.
He pressed her and by the end, her muscles trembled from the speed and power required to evade and redirect his blows. She spent most of the time on the defensive but with each block, she learned a little more about how to deal with the weapon and advanced her skill with the sticks by the tiniest of amounts. His classes often heard the adage that “the longest journey is accomplished by the smallest steps” from him, and she knew each small measure of improvement would pay off in the long run.
When he called a halt, she sank gratefully to the mat while he returned his weapon to the wall. He lowered himself to sit beside her. “You grew tired more quickly than usual.”
She nodded. “Yesterday was…busy.” Cali didn’t feel right sharing the details of every challenge she faced with him. It simply didn’t seem appropriate unless she had a specific question he could address. Sometimes, he pushed her on it. Today, he changed the subject.
“You have reached a place of diminishing returns on your training with the sticks. From here on out, we will work to maintain those skills but should choose other weapons to focus upon. One is certainly the jo staff, as you still have room for improvement. Is there another you are interested in?”
The statement came as a surprise. She’d known she had improved significantly but hadn’t realized she’d reached a plateau. Ikehara had warned her it would happen eventually. The only way to break out of it was to train a different but complementary skill, which would ultimately open new avenues for the former one. Of course, there were other ways around it, but he’d claimed this path was the one that would best maximize the minimal training time she had.
The answer was easy, though. “The sword.”
He nodded. “One hand or two? Single sword or dual?”
Cali frowned, then jogged to the back to retrieve her phone. She sat beside him and showed him the picture she’d taken of the sword fragment her parents had left her. “What do you think this is?”
He took the device from her hands and peered at it, then zoomed in to study the runes and the edges more closely. After several minutes of careful examination, he offered it back to her. “Based on the width, it’s unlikely to be a two-handed sword. It may be a traditional length or a slightly longer hand-and-a-half. The latter would present an additional challenge, requiring you to increase your upper body strength to wield it properly.”
She groaned. “Great, more exercises. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
The sensei laughed. “An appropriate response. And the muscles will still be useful if it’s a standard length. We can begin training it next time.” He paused and they passed a minute in comfortable silence before he broke it again. “You may not be aware that I know one of the members of the magical council. I’ve been told about the challenges you face.”
“Yeah, I’m something, aren’t I?” She laughed. “Let me guess. It’s Invel.” She could picture her teacher s
eeking unique weapons and the Drow would certainly have access to those kinds of things.
He shook his head. “No, although I’ve heard a great deal about him. It is the gnome, Scoppic.”
“He’s wonderful. How did you meet him?”
“At the library. I’ve done research on the martial arts of other cultures. He has shared books with me that I wouldn’t have otherwise been able to access.”
She assumed he meant the main library, not the magical version beneath it. A number of the gnomes worked in the one on the surface, although she’d never seen Scoppic there.
“Excellent.”
“I am told you might need allies in the future. I want you to know that should the occasion arise you may count me among them.”
Cali’s heart lurched in her chest and for several moments, she couldn’t speak. When she finally found her voice, all she could manage to say was, “Thank you, Sensei. Truly. That means…so much.”
He nodded without looking at her, respecting her privacy. Suddenly, he stood and strode into the front portion of the room. He unlocked the door and flicked the lights on, then in a far less serious tone, ordered her to get dressed for class. With a groan inspired by her cooling muscles, she pushed herself to her feet and hurried to obey.
More small steps toward a large destination. She laughed inwardly. Yeah, New Atlantis.
Chapter Nine
Rion Grisham combed his hair carefully into place and stared at his reflection in the mirror to ensure that he would present the right image. His shave was flawless, as always, and if there were a few more wrinkles around his eyes with each passing year, at least they gave him a distinguished look. His light brown hair still hid the gray strands well. All in all, he could be a corporate executive, although maybe a little less pampered and a little harder.
I guess I kind of am one, at that. Tonight’s meeting could be a turning point for the Zatora organization, either for the better or for the worse. It wasn’t quite a throw of the dice, but it was far from a sure thing. If tonight is the beginning of the end, at least I’ll look presentable for it.