The Father
MONIQUE TOUCHED HER father’s face in the nursing home in Daly City. He had his own room. Not everyone had that. The smells weren’t so bad.
He didn’t speak. His eyes were alive with hate.
She stepped back from the bed, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. She wasn’t in her Artist robes for once. No, she was in civilian clothes, a flowery blouse and black slacks.
She met her father’s gaze. “You’ve been stealing from me my whole life, Logan. You stole my childhood. You stole space in my head for years. And after I forgave all that, and I brought you into my home, you stole my life savings.”
The nearly six million dollars was gone, like the morning fog, burned away by the sun. Her condo near the Presidio in Bay City was up for sale. She’d had to stop her charitable contributions. She was left with nothing but her clothes and the little bit of stuff she’d collected over the years. It would all fit in her little car, a Chevy Road Dog of her own. She’d bought it after selling the joke wedding band. Her bare ring finger made her feel free.
She rented an apartment in Daly City, near Logan’s nursing home, because the rents were far cheaper than either Bay City or South Valley City. The neighborhood was bad, but not as bad as her days growing up in the Underbelly.
Monique patted her father’s shoulder. “So, you’re on Medicaid. You have your phone. And if you can get the money back from the Russians, good luck. I’ve had some of the best IT security at SoulFire working on it, and they couldn’t retrieve a dime. We had a good thing going, you and I, but it wasn’t enough for you. Even alive, you’re a hungry ghost.”
She backed away. “A hungry ghost has a tiny mouth and a huge belly. They have monstrous appetites, but they can never be satisfied.” She motioned to her face. “Too small of a mouth. In some stories, it’s the size of a needle. I don’t want to be that. I want to be lean. I want to enjoy the world and my life. I thought that might include you. I was wrong. Goodbye, Logan.”
He made grunting noises. She was glad he couldn’t talk. She liked the idea that she would never have to hear him curse ever again.
Out in the parking lot, she tore onto 101, heading south, to a hot meal. From what Aleksy said, it was going to be quite a feast.
As she drove, she thought of the video footage of her capturing the chochlik. So far, it was part internet rumor, part conspiracy theory, but no one had officially offered to represent her in the League of Battle Artists. That was a kindness. And as far as SoulFire was concerned, she was still suspended, the investigation pending.
It would be pending for a while. She figured she’d become a RideShare driver until the executives figured things out. Or she could consult for another of the large corporations: Vannix House, Anvil Incorporated, Rocks & Rams, or Heaven’s Gate International.
Phil Lord had called her a couple of times, saying he was in her corner, but she wasn’t sure if she believed him. He’d be Fujimori’s lap dog until it became clear he was a puppet or a better deal came along. Loyalty was a rare thing in this world. Money and power didn’t help the situation. Loyalty, truth, honor, those were under siege by the very rich, and the very poor. Monique had been both.
Being a RideShare driver might be just fine for her. Or she might be able to help out at Aleksy’s family business, though she’d insist they drop the “p” and the “e” off of Shoppe. She did have her dignity, despite losing everything else.
Even Cheryl. Monique had made another trip to the Sierras outside of Fort Tahoe. No sign of her guru. The shack was exactly the same as Monique had left it. She’d been the last person there. Monique had to drop the worry, which was harder than she’d expected. Severing ties with Logan had been far easier.
As for her uncertain position at SoulFire, that would work itself out in the end. Either she’d get her old job back, or she wouldn’t. She did wonder about the fate of the chochlik and what the exact nature of it was. Would this shed more light on the mysteries of the daemons? Or would it muddy the waters further? She remembered Aleksy wondering why some of the daemons had certain shapes and others didn’t.
It had hissed that warning at her. Aleksy had heard it and included it in his report. That sounded ominous, and yet, what did it really mean?
Monique pulled into the strip mall, noting the pagoda roof of the Happy Noodle, the Punjab Conveniently next to it, and the Fix-It Shoppe. She rolled her eyes.
When she rang the doorbell, Aleksy answered it and ushered her inside. She found herself nervous. That was hilarious. Being human was such an interesting thing. She let go of her anxiety. This was a simple family dinner. And yet, Aleksy had said they could be rather tense. She hoped that wasn’t the case. She’d had enough of her own family drama recently.
She thought of Niko, his unwise cycling of a daemon, and the Radiance prana in his core. At some point, she’d need to talk with him more, but tonight didn’t feel right. There would be time later for such things.
“Welcome to the shop.” Aleksy said. He stood alone in the waiting room. Electronics covered shelves just as paper covered a big desk with two monitors on it. Through an entryway was more junk and a staircase, leading up.
“Isn’t pronounced shoppie?” Monique asked.
“That’s what I call it!” A voice drifted down to them.
Aleksy exhaled. “That’s Teddy. Niko brought in all of his friends.”
“Are you coming up?” a woman’s voice shouted down.
Aleksy turned embarrassed. “That’s my mom. We yell a lot.” To prove the point, he called up in a loud voice, “Give us a second, Mamo. We’re coming.”
“Why are we waiting?” Monique asked. “I’m hungry.”
Aleksy lowered his voice. “The Coalition of Unified Countries has the chochlik. Not sure how it all worked out, but SoulFire turned it over. I think there was a huge deal made, lots of money, but the whole thing is mysterious. And disappointing.”
Monique smiled. “Well, that is very interesting. Did they put it in a huge warehouse full of lost artifacts? Do they have their best people working on it?”
“I don’t know.” Aleksy was frowning. “They have a special committee on daemons, and the specialists there are studying it. And get this, they have archaeological digs all over the globe. If you put the two together, you get something ancient.”
“He did have the horse-hair crested helmet and the old-timey gladius. That’s Latin for sword. I got my college education, which is something you might look into.” Monique shoved him playfully.
“I have my degree,” Aleksy protested.
“In what? Some engineering thing. Did you read any of the ancient texts?”
“The Pranad.” He was serious.
“This is banter, Aleksy,” Monique said. “You then tease me about my liberal arts degree.”
He found a small smile. “I’ve seen what you can do. If a liberal arts degree can give me that much prana, I’d quit SoulFire and go back to school. Any fallout from all the video?”
“Only a Moveez deal. It’s seven figures. I had my heart set on eight.”
“Really?” the guy asked.
“Banter, remember?” Monique pointed toward the staircase. “Hungry, remember?”
“I remember. One other thing.”
Before she could ask what it was, Aleksy threw his arms around her and hugged her close. “I can’t tell you how great this is, you meeting my family.”
And we haven’t even kissed, Monique thought. One upside, if she did lose her job at SoulFire, she’d be free to pursue something with the Pollack. She’d have to get him to loosen up first, and that might be her toughest fight yet.
Monique enjoyed his warmth and smell for a minute, before she stepped back.
“Aleksy! Dinner is ready!” Mamo’s voice again. Mamo. “Bring your friend up.”
“Your friend. Me.” The nervousness hit Monique again. “I’m going to have to endure my whole celebrity status thing, aren’t I?”
“I told
Niko and Pete, no questions. Teddy might hit you up for more information on your superpowers. Bonnie won’t. She’s cool. And my parents will be polite until they say something cringey, which is what parents do so well.”
“Mamo and Tato, got it,” Monique said. She readied herself.
She knew why Cheryl lived alone in the woods. There was less of everything there, and more of some things that were beyond value.
Yet, in the apartment above them, Monique felt something special. There were treasures everywhere. Life was good.
The Battle Artist
NIKO FELT A BIT CLAUSTROPHOBIC. Their little living room was stuffed with tables, chairs, and people, lots of people, eight of them. They’d moved the sofa and the two easy chairs into Pete’s bedroom, and yet, there was still not a lot of space. The dining room table along with the kitchen table extended from Pete’s door all the way into the kitchen.
Aleksy escorted his... boss? Girlfriend? Friend? up the stairs.
For the first time, Niko met Monique Lamb in person. She was far shorter than he would’ve thought, with sturdy, thick thighs and wide hips. Her hair was cut short, framing an olive-colored face with shining dark eyes. Those eyes had power, such power in them.
Her prana extended out of her in a wave of warmth and living light. For the first time in his life, he was seeing an Artist’s aura; there was simply too much of her energy to keep inside her core.
Aleksy seemed shy to introduce her.
Monique laughed and caught his eye. “I’m Monique Lamb. I’m famous. Or is it infamous? But really, I’m a nobody. Just a woman in need of Polish food.”
“We can feed you!” Mamo yelled from the kitchen.
Tato left his chair at the head of the table. “Yes, Miss Lamb, yes, welcome to our house. I’m Simon Kowalczyk, and I looked you up. You fought in the Division Two tournaments, fifteen years ago. Then, you seemed to have left the Arts.”
“I tried. They caught me. It’s a long story.” She bowed. “Hello, Mr. Kowalczyk, but please, call me Monique. All of you.”
Teddy, standing next Niko, let out something almost like a squeal. “A CBA at the Kowalczyk’s. SoulFire, Battle Artist. I’ve seen the video. I can’t talk about it. I won’t talk about it. I’ll shut up.” He was red-faced and sweating a little—thinner. Teddy still had his big belly, but his face was lean, and Niko hoped he’d take better care of himself. He needed Teddy around.
“Wow.” Bonnie’s mouth dropped open. “Just. Wow. Teddy, that was so epic, awesome, awkward, terrible, wonderful. What other adjectives are there? It was all of them, Teddy, all of the adjectives.”
Bonnie hooked her arm through Niko’s. “I’m Bonnie Crude. I was famous. I didn’t see you at any of the meetings though.”
Monique laughed. “You went on Tuesday night, right? I couldn’t swing the famous meetings on Tuesdays. I asked them to move them to Thursdays, because, you see, Tuesday was the only night I could wash my cat. And rearrange my sock drawer. Hello, Bonnie.” Monique thought for a minute. “Not Bonnie Crude. Bonnie Taylor. Yes, famous. I would’ve gone if I had known you were there.”
“Oh, I like her,” Bonnie said exuberantly.
Pete threw up his hand on the other side of the table. “I’m Pete. I used to be the black sheep of the family. Now, I’m going for gray.”
“Gray would look good on you,” Monique said, so comfortable, so powerful, so in charge. No wonder she was an executive at SoulFire. She exuded this charm mixed with serenity. Aleksy couldn’t possibly be dating her.
Mamo came in, squeezing around a table that partially blocked the entrance to the kitchen. “Ms. Lamb! I’m Julia Kowalczyk, Aleksy’s mother. I’m so glad Aleksy has a friend. He has trouble making friends.”
“All the adjectives,” Teddy whispered. “Wow.”
Aleksy didn’t react. He went and kissed his mom’s cheek. “Thanks for letting me invite her.”
“Our table is open for everyone,” Mamo said. “All of our friends, and our big family one day. I want grandchildren. Did I mention I wanted grandchildren?”
“It’s like a car wreck,” Bonnie whispered. “I can’t look away.”
“Me either,” Teddy agreed.
“You started it, Ted,” Bonnie said under her voice.
Niko cleared his throat, trying to save himself as well as Aleksy. “Yeah, Mamo, we get it. Lots of kids. Let’s eat.”
They sat down, Tato at one end of the table, Mamo at the other. She would send a dish down one side and then grab it when it came around to send the next dish. There was golumpki and pierogi and sauerkraut and long Polish sausages and pickles and a nice green salad.
Plates were loaded up. Niko sat with Bonnie and Teddy on the window side of the table while Aleksy, Monique, and Pete sat across from them.
Teddy had a long list of things he couldn’t talk about, and it seemed it was better for him not to talk at all.
Bonnie was funny, but not aggressively so. She and Monique enjoyed each other, that was clear, but then both had a keen sense of humor. Niko again thought there was no way Aleksy had hooked up with the older woman, who seemed wise at one point and then giddy as a high school senior the next.
Tato lifted his glass. “A toast, to my sons, my most excellent sons.”
They all clinked glasses.
“And me,” Pete said. “And I want to toast Niko Zero—at our very table, the Niko Zero.”
“Don’t like it,” Mamo said. “He is not a zero. He is a hundred percent at least.”
They clinked glasses again.
“I caught the fight on YouTube,” Monique said. “I’ve never seen anyone use a Twin Damage kick like that. You walked on the prana. It was simply amazing.”
She was being serious, but this seemed odd from someone who could basically fly. And create ice platforms on the bay. Thanks to Teddy’s research, Niko knew Monique was a Masonry/Quintessence cusp, and yet she’d gone from Sky to Woda easily.
Then again, Danette and the Sages had opened Niko’s mind to such possibilities. It was her prana, her core, all that energy flowing out of her. Could other people see it? Or did she keep it hidden most of the time?
Niko found himself sputtering. “I just... I... you know... I can’t...”
“Just can’t take a compliment,” Bonnie helped out.
Monique smiled. “You say, ‘thank you.’ You might want to run and hide, you might want to disagree, you might even want to throw punches when people get gushy, but the safe bet is a simple ‘thank you.’ There’s only one rule that matters in being a world-famous Battle Artist, and that’s to be gracious. It’s a business of easy come and easier go.”
“Why did you stop fighting?” Teddy asked. Then blinked. Then he stuffed a pierogi in his mouth.
“It’s fine, Teddy, I don’t think that was on the list of forbidden questions.” Monique put her fork down. “I stopped enjoying it. I couldn’t be gracious. I found it annoying, taxing, and full of politics. It wasn’t my calling.” She laughed. “Now that I think about it, SoulFire Incorporated is annoying, taxing, and full of politics, but I’ve found my path. You’ll find yours.”
“Do you still enjoy the Arts, Niko?” Mamo asked. Concern was on her face. Tato glanced at his wife, then at Niko. There was a weight to the question.
Niko knew what he was supposed to say. “Yeah, it’s my dream, right? I love the Arts, and the Arena, and the fans.”
Bonnie leaned against him. “But do you enjoy it?”
“Not the politics, the power plays, or the games,” Niko said. “No, I think it can be more than that. It is more than that. You know, it’s funny, since I’ve come back, I’ve lost more than I’ve won. Stan Howling beat me. We got disqualified at the BCBA Quarterly, so there’s a loss, even though we won. And Andrew J. Coffey beat me. Poor Marjory, I won that fight, but still felt bad. It still felt like I lost. All those times on the tiles, I lost, but now, looking back, I won. It’s a crazy business. It’s hard. It’s a climb. But I like the climb. I
like the struggle. No, Mamo, I love it. Do I enjoy it? Not always. But do I love it? Yes.”
“A thousand losses are a teacher,” Monique said. “And a single victory is a pause, where there is no wind, and there is no thought, and there is only the moment, which holds us, tenderly, as gentle as a spring breeze, in twilight.”
Niko hadn’t memorized A Princess of the Changing Winds, but he recognized the passage. “You... you... that was from my favorite book. You just quoted it. I’d forgotten that allusion to The Pranad.”
“You have a calling, Niko, to the Arts. You are on your own path. I find it interesting that our paths have come together, at this time, with so much going on.”
She was talking about the new type of daemon she’d captured. She’d watched his video, and in return, he’d watched hers.
Aleksy wouldn’t talk about it. Though he had let slip a single word, chochlik, which Niko looked up. A Polish word for demon.
Bonnie laughed unexpectedly. “Niko, it warms my heart to hear you say all that. Because you were all”—she deepened her voice to mimic him—“I don’t know about this Arts stuff, when I win, I feel like I lose, and when I lose, I feel like I win. I don’t know.”
“He knows,” Monique said. “He knows.”
And that was the truth. Niko did know. This was only the beginning. Agents were interested in him. And LJ Crown had reached out to him. Better than that, the Sages of the Underpass were together.
There was no top to the mountain he was climbing. There was only the climb. He hoped he’d never grow tired of it.
He remembered thinking about The Pranad back at MudCon. Despair might flower fast. But hope has deep roots.
Niko glanced around the table, at his friends, at his family, and he felt the connections tying them together. Their lives intertwined, just like roots, and together, they would grow and flower, reaching for the heavens. Reaching for hope.
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