The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent)

by Bridget Ladd

  Maybe I was Abnormal.

  Maybe, now, I didn’t care.

  I opened the door to find Xander’s back towards me. He turned, feeling my strong presence encompass the tiny room. The look of sheer admiration that gleamed brightly upon his face would’ve melted any girl’s heart where they stood.

  I held my head high, remembering the persona I was to be exuding today.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter 37

  An Important Announcement

  “Dex, stop pretending to look so surprised. I am a girl you know? And it’s perfectly acceptable to dress like one on occasion.”

  Dex walked beside me in near open-mouthed bewilderment.

  “Of course I know you’re a lady. It’s just that in my experience—” He cleared his throat experimentally. “—ladies who dress like that . . .” He waved his hands in the air around me. “usually are looking to get something they want. And well, they usually get it.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Xander roll his eyes skyward as we three continued our hike to the Stadium.

  “Excellent. Exactly what I wanted to hear.” I nodded Dex’s way as I casually scanned the cobblestone street ahead of us.

  Dex picked up the ruffled side of my skirt, looking just beneath, and frowned. —I slapped at his hand, making him jump back apologetically.

  He stifled a laugh. “I will say however . . . not many ladies I know pair up a nice dress like that with boots like those,” he said in regards to my partially hidden, mud covered, knee-high laced boots—which were quite capable of holding their own should they need to.

  I shrugged, rubbing my hands over the front of my skirts to straighten them. I cleared my throat. “Yes well, the boots are practical,” I retorted sheepishly. “I can only take so much . . . feminine appeal. Next thing you know, I’ll be wearing ribbons in my hair to the next match. First it starts with the boots. Then it’s all downhill from there.”

  Dex stared at me. “Bones no. Ribbons?” He made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. “Now we can’t ever allow that to happen.” Then he laughed. “You are quite an odd box of oats I tell ya, Lily.”

  Xander peered around me towards Dex with an incredulous look. “What does that even mean?”

  “Oh, I dunno. Just made it up. Sounds fittin’—Ya’ know there’s always that one box you get from the Warehouse that’s all misshapen and warped and it always leaves ya thinkin’, ‘an’ what the hell happened to this one?’ But then you get to thinkin’ some more, ‘Well at least I bet it’s got an interestin’ story unlike the rest of the lot.’ So in my mind, with its unique history, it’ll probably end up tastin’ better—that’s what I’m tryin’ to get at, I guess.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “So now I’m misshapen and warped, but I also taste good? I’m wholeheartedly confused yet slightly flattered. Thanks, Dex.”

  Dex tilted his hat with a smile. “Anytime.”

  Xander’s forehead creased. “Yes, Lily is the strange one.” His eyes were wide with sarcasm, but then dropped to give Dex his best disapproving eyebrow. “Dex, I’m not really sure why it is I keep you around.”

  “For laughs of course! You got laughs? I’ve got jokes,” Dex said, reaching around me to punch Xander on the shoulder.

  Xander grunted in response, returning to his casual stride beside me, his long jacket trailing out behind him, his dark hood concealing most of his face again.

  Dex accompanied us until Xander and I were directed down a side entrance that led into the Stadium’s center. Dex tipped his hat towards me and winked before disappearing into the crowd.

  While we stood in the dim musty hallway, I glanced from one of the small square windows, its hazy glass allowing me a partial view of what was taking place in the Stadium’s arena. The usual dusty stage stood front and center, but now with an added platform that rose above the usual dais. When both Xander and I arrived in front of our door, we were informed that we would have to wait until all other fighters were announced before we would be called for our own approach into the Stadium.

  Readjusting my sight to the shadows of the hallway with its dim flickering gas lanterns, I caught eyes with Afina who stood further down the curved hall to my right. As she turned, the lantern behind her illuminated her face; she smiled at me weakly before turning her attention to the door ahead of her.

  Seeing her face, my heart plummeted. The entire left side of her jaw and neck was puckered pink with tightened skin—patterned much like a net. Her cheek was badly bruised and her eyes sad. Affery was not at her side.

  Shocked, I turned to Xander. “What happened to Affery and Afina? Did Dex tell you?” Dex had told me that Bubbles and Harnister had been defeated by Percival and Fin—but nothing about Afina and her brother.

  The edge of Xander’s hood brushed the side of my cheek as he tilted my way. “Scottie and Giles tried the same trick on Sector 1 as they did with Hugo and Gerald. Luckily, Affery caught on quickly and saved his sister from the net, but not before Giles broke both his legs. Afina forfeited before they were both killed.”

  My jaw clenched in anger. I looked remorsefully towards Afina. I understood how difficult it was to lose a partner . . . a family member. Afina made the right choice. Forfeiting was her only option—she saved her brother’s life in doing so. Pride of victory would have to wait for another day.

  “Afina and Affery are said to have the greatest talent with a blade. To be the greatest of skilled fighters . . . how did Scottie and Giles even have a chance?” I asked in a whisper, looking back towards Xander, his gray eyes reflecting the golden flame of the lanterns.

  “Affery and Afina fight with honor. Scottie’s a coward. He fights dirty.”

  I sighed, shaking my head and hating what happened to them.

  Since there was only a final round to go . . . that could only mean one thing. “So what does that mean for us? We now fight Scottie and Giles, Percival and Fin Hughs? All at once?”

  Xander crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his other leg. “So it would seem.”

  “Well,” I said dryly. “Lucky for us.”

  Xander arched his eyebrow at me, but didn’t say a word. An action I now knew held more meaning than I previously thought. I knew he was reading me.

  Scottie being my rival, and Xander being Percival’s longtime nemesis from a friendship turned sour . . . this was going to be a good fight. And when I said good . . . I meant bad. Very bad.

  The announcer’s familiar voice beamed overhead, somewhat muffled by the thick stone roof above us. “Please help us welcome this year’s Barrage Tournament fighters!”

  I readied myself to walk out the door, but remembered we would be ushered in last. An oily haired and mustached attendant approached just as I stepped forward some, gesturing to me to remain patient.

  Shifting my weight to my other foot, I waited for the announcer to continue his speech.

  “Before we continue, please give a moment of silence to those whose lives have been lost, and for those who are not able to attend tonight’s assembly.”

  With a quick look of surprise to one another, Xander and I both bowed our heads in reverence to the loss of Hugo Miller and to the severe injuries sustained by his teammate Gerald. To Sir Norbert, and Affery; to the blatant murder of both Mrs. Fawnsworth, and my mother. Before I could hardly finish taking a deep breath in thought, the announcer cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, very good. Let us continue.”

  I looked up at Xander with a scowl, but found him still honoring those with his hood still hanging low, ignoring the screech of the announcer’s amplifier. He then slowly raised his head and opened his piercing gray eyes. They looked like steel, forged within the flames of the casting light.

  I wished I could see into his thoughts, see what it was that motivated him. Before it was absolute revenge, but now? I wasn’t sure.

  Retaining the seriousness in his face he then looked at me.

  “It’s time.”
>
  ~

  The crowd went silent when Xander and I walked into the Stadium. All eyes directed our way and hushed whispers floated around like the brewing of a storm.

  Xander and I were the second pair called to the Stadium after announcing the arrival of Percival and Fin Hughs. We were ushered onto the center stage and then up to the second, higher dais, which seemed only just long enough to fit the length of the three remaining Sectors.

  I tried not to cringe as I stood next to Percival. The slimy cold darkness that emanated from him made me feel nauseated, almost as if his nearness was gouging a black hole into the depths of my stomach. It was uncomfortable to be standing so close to someone who you knew would try their best to kill you the next day. It was the feeling the Council intended for us as we stood shoulder to shoulder with our adversaries.

  Smothered.

  Glancing down from above, I noticed the vacant spaces where many of the others used to stand. Bubbles McGee caught me staring and winked, his massive mustache gesturing its own greeting as he did so. There were scratches, or what could possibly be claw marks, all along the side of his neck. I’d assume the beasts both Percival and Fin created had something to do with that. My mood not matching my expression, I smiled back weakly before searching the rest of the platform.

  To my relief, Margie and Damaris stood at the end in their usual brooding manner, but otherwise visibly uninjured by our aerial assault. Margie chewed at her thumb and spat a loose piece of skin out behind her. She caught eyes with me as she did and scowled before quickly returning her attention to the announcer.

  The familiar skinny announcer opened his mouth—to what I presumed to be an introduction of Scottie and Giles into the Stadium—but found the amplifier getting grabbed from his hands. “Good Evening everyone!” Briggin’s voice boomed throughout the Stadium.

  “As representative over the Council, I think it fitting if I were to introduce the next pair of brilliant young fighters.” Briggins smiled, not waiting for a response. “Please welcome the Council Sponsored Sector 7, my brave son, Scottie Briggins, and his teammate Giles to the stage!”

  The door to our left opened with a creak and I watched Scottie strut across the dry dust-filled arena floor dressed in an outfit suitable for an Estate held Ball. A few girls in the Sector 8 section giggled and gossiped among themselves. I rolled my eyes, wondering briefly if Cousin Annette was among the whispering crew.

  Giles slithered in behind Scottie, grinning slyly despite the fact some of his teeth were now missing.

  “Now isn’t that a bold looking group of young men? I wonder where that strapping young blond fellow found such good genes?” Briggins said garishly. Briggin’s laugh grated at my nerves, though I was somewhat pleased to see that not all in the crowded Stadium shared his feelings. They were the ones forced to watch the unveiling of Scottie’s cruelty after all.

  Scottie bowed to the crowd and winked at the giggling group of Sector 8 girls.

  Briggins coughed, clearing his throat to compose himself, and his son. “As many of you may already know, tomorrow’s round will consist of a battle between the three remaining Sectors. The victor will be decided based upon their ability to recover the hidden key to the Vault of Laws.”

  An outraged thought sprung to mind, forcing me to speak. “If the Magistrate is indisposed . . .” I shouted across the Stadium towards Briggins, “who then has supervised the hiding of such a Key? We wouldn’t want anyone to have an unfair advantage, now would we?”

  I didn’t need to look. Everyone knew who I was referring to.

  Briggin’s eyes went wide in surprise, but he chuckled nauseatingly into the amplifier. “I’m sorry, my dear, but you have no authority to make such statements at the present time.”

  Ignoring Xander’s forestalling hand, I stepped forward on the small dais. “Whether you only see me as a Barrage fighter or not is irrelevant.” I paused, wanting to match eyes with every person present. “I can, however, tell you with great certainty that I am Lily Emerson, Mistress of City Prosper now, and I have every authority.” My stare fixated to one person alone. “You Briggins, on the other hand, do not.”

  I took a moment to let everyone’s shock soak in before I continued, “And as your Mistress . . . I will say and do whatever it is I wish on behalf of the citizens.” I looked to the crowd. “City Prosper, I offer you hope. And when that time does come—be ready to receive it.”

  It wasn’t much of a warning of the Outlands, but enough of a declaration to get their heads turning, eyes questioning. My own eyes shot back to Briggins. “You’ve acquired a great deal of presence since the Barrage began Briggins . . . . Is this due to sheer luck or is it of your own doing?” I added, raising my chin to effectively test his patience and that of the Council’s.

  Xander glanced at me, his jaw tense in disapproval and his eyes pleading me to tread cautiously.

  “Watch your tongue woman, that’s my father to whom you speak,” Scottie whispered coldly, glaring over at me. Xander matched his stare tenfold, making Scottie rethink a confrontation.

  Briggins cleared his throat, embarrassed to have been thrown asunder. “Yes, the Magistrate has unfortunately taken ill.” He continued, “And has asked me personally to claim the role of overlooking the Barrage until his health has improved.”

  “Taken ill?” I clucked my tongue with fake surprise. “Taken ill like my mother?” My anger was threatening to consume, resenting the fact I was made to stand and speak cordially to Mrs. Fawnsworth’s and my mother’s killer. All I really wanted to do was lunge from the platform and strangle Briggins for what he did. No, I must be better than that. I took a shuttering breath. “And how is it that you can remain impartial while in this newly acquired position? With you being the only person who knows of the exact location of the Key and when your own son fights for the Council’s behalf?”

  Briggin’s face blanched from across the length of the Stadium. I had struck a blow and he knew it. Briggins managed to retain a straight face though I could tell he wanted nothing more than to kill me. Right here, and now.

  He grasped the amplifier tightly and smiled to the crowd seated around him. Sweat glistened from the corners of his mouth as he smoothed down his mutton-chop sideburns with his fingers.

  “I send my deepest condolences to you, Lily, regarding your mother’s death. I assure that we are taking every precaution to make certain what happened to the former Mistress Emerson will not happen to the Magistrate—or to your father. Never fear, we have the best healers at their bedsides even now as we speak.” He spoke slowly, his tone laced with venom. Briggins moved his head from side to side, cracking his neck before he continued. “As for the Key, I can see your reservations of mistrust. I shall in turn inform everyone now . . . both the citizens and the remaining fighters that the Key resides atop the highest of structures in the location of the final round.”

  He paused, making sure he held my full attention. “I would also like to congratulate you on your new role despite the unfortunate circumstances in which you came by it Lily Emerson.”

  My nostrils flared. Xander reached for my arm, warning me.

  “Well now, how ‘bout we give a warm round of applause to the newest Mistress? Lady Lily Emerson!” Bubbles McGee suddenly bellowed out from below. “May her bravery and mercy be the hearthstone to us leadin’ even more Prosperous lives!” Anyone who had any sense at all could tell he was trying to disperse the tension between Briggins and I.

  I took a deep breath and silently thanked him for stepping in for me. The words of anger that floated around in my head would’ve most certainly started a war.

  Who knows, maybe they already did.

  The crowd stood and cheered, some more hesitant at first, but soon joined in after seeing the others. The entire stadium was visibly vibrating from the chanting of ‘Li-ly, Li-ly, Li-ly!’

  Their smiles were genuine, ones of approval and warmth, not the usual placating ones that were there to solely appease the Council
. They feared the Council. They feared the punishment they’d evoke should they be caught out of line. As the people stomped their feet and roared their support, my heart swelled away from my anger and transformed to pride.

  It was time for someone to stand up. To prove to the citizens that they didn’t always have to tread in the Council’s—and now Briggin’s—threatening shadow. They needed someone to thoroughly and one hundred percent defect against the Law.

  Luckily I was one such person with the right amount of power to do so.

  Briggin’s sinister smile changed to one of almost madness as he gestured towards the crowd behind him, clearing his throat roughly into the amplifier. With the slight flicker of his fingers, the Sector 7 guards shifted near each of the exits, making their presence known.

  The people, sharing grim looks of mistrust and fear, quieted and took to their seats.

  Briggin’s smile returned.

  “Now before we get too far ahead of ourselves, I’d like to remind everyone that tomorrow will be the most eventful of the rounds, rife with much danger. I cannot guarantee the safety of Mistress Emerson. And in an attempt to not show favor of any one participant, let us hope that every fighter involved will come out unscathed.

  “I also, cannot and will not divulge all that will take place, but I can share with you a little secret—a riddle in fact of the location of the final round. You can guess of the possible locales as you walk to your homes tonight.” Briggins paused and scanned the Stadium, making sure he held each and every citizen’s full attention, from the eldest of men to the smallest of children.

  His eyes narrowed, a thin smile stretching across his face.

  “What is dark? What is brown? What is trodden?” His voice deepened. “What has been burned down?”

  The swarming mass of energy that moved throughout the crowd moments before, evaporated and reformed into an almost palpable fear at Briggin’s words.

  He wouldn’t.

  Reveling in the now somber mood, Briggins continued cheerfully, “Do you think you know of it? This place? Well if you do . . .” He raised his finger to his mouth, tapping it against his smile in a gesture to keep quiet. He lowered his hand. “Get to the Requiem early enough to find if you’re right!” He paused. “Take care of yourselves Prosper,” he said quieter this time, a lingering threat hidden within his tone.