by P B Hughes
“Yes, now.” Ari jerked his arm, turning him to face her, lips tight, brow furrowed; her eyes sparked violet for an instant, and then faded back, like two orbs of blue ice. “Who started that fight?”
Caden looked at Jude, and then yanked his arm from her grasp. “He did. He started it; I finished it.”
Gregory scoffed, pointing an accusing finger toward Caden. “I’ve had about enough of this—Jude was minding his own business when you and your goons attacked him from behind, you dirty coward!”
“How dare you speak—”
“What is the truth, Caden?” pressed Ari, stamping her foot to the ground. “Did he provoke you, or have you been lying to me this entire time?”
Caden looked from Gregory, to Daniel, and finally to Jude. His face wrenched with the fury of a rabid dog, ready to lunge. He snatched Ari by the wrist and held it up tightly in his grasp. “I did not lie, Ari—he provoked me. His mere presence—the weakness he emanates—the ridiculousness of allowing a school like Littleton (if you want to call it a school) to compete alongside a school like ours—provoked me. It’s an outrage!” She tried to pull away, but he only held tighter, his cheeks growing hot with vehemence. “Don’t you see? They are an insult to the games! That tiny, sorry excuse for a school should be wiped off the map. Together we can put an end to the mockery they have started—you at my side!”
Daniel made a move toward Caden, but Jude held him back.
Ari stared up at Caden, slowly shaking her head. “How could you say such things, Caden Baine? The twisted lies—your words are toxic, wrought with hate and discrimination. I believed you!” She pulled back again—this time he let her go. She stared up into his face, eyes misty with tears that she would not let fall. “You have deceived me for the last time.”
She turned her back on Caden and faced the three Littleton boys. “I am sorry for the pain my school has caused you—truly, I am. I wanted to believe the best in Caden, but now I see that some people will not change. I would be honored if you would allow me to,” she choked on her words, giving Caden a backward glance, “to join your team for the remainder of the competition.”
“What?” Caden shouted, the veins on his neck popping out. He advanced toward Ari, his red robes billowing.
“Not another step, Caden,” said Daniel, moving between them.
“Out of my way,” Caden seethed between gritted teeth.
“Even you can’t beat the three of us,” Daniel replied. “Now go on your way before we leave you hanging upside-down by one of these trees in a block of ice.”
Caden rose to his full height, shoulders back, making him look like a cobra ready to strike. “You will regret this,” he growled, “the whole lot of you! My team will crush you like insects beneath our boots.”
“No, Caden!” said Ari, whirling around, her hair flying out from her barrettes. She marched up to him, peering up into his eyes with furious steel. “You’ll regret it—you won’t find a finer group of teammates than the ones before you. You will fall, and there will be no one there to catch you.”
Caden’s face twisted with rage. Daniel thought he might try to fight all four of them right there, and he readied himself, fists up, wishing for his staff. Instead, Caden pushed his way through them, toward the front gate, his eyes sparking a hellish crimson. A moment later, he was gone through the gate.
Ari turned to them, eyes downcast. A solitary tear escaped from her lash. She spoke evenly and with strength. “I know I am assuming a lot—that you would even want me on your team—”
“I already know my answer,” Jude shot, causing her to jump. Worry flit across Ari’s face. Jude paused for a moment, eying her intently. “I say yes.”
Daniel’s eyes opened wide, his cheeks flushing with joy as he fought a silly grin that threatened to form at the edge of his mouth. He was sure Jude would have said no, or at the very least would have taken a good deal of convincing. “Me too,” he announced. “Gregory, what do you say?”
Gregory walked over to Ari and looked her up and down, then nodded. “Yeah, if you’re both okay with it, I am too. Welcome to the team, Ari.”
“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much,” she gushed. “I will not let you down.”
The four of them walked down to the gate in silence, exiting out onto the road. The sound of horses was headed toward them.
“Ari,” said Jude quickly. “If you could, we need detailed information on each member of Caden’s team. Can you provide that?”
She nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Also,” said Daniel, “if you know a Gold or Amber Miraclist that would make a good ally, let us know.”
“I know a few,” she responded. The sound of galloping horses’ grew nearer. “I will have what information I can gather for you by tomorrow.”
Suddenly, a horse drawn carriage pulled up. A crest on the cabin door had the letter “C” emblazoned on it. The driver stepped down from the box seat and, with a flourish, opened the door for Ari.
“When and where shall we meet?” she asked as she stepped inside.
“The practice area outside the city wall,” replied Jude. “Eight sharp.”
“I shall see you there.”
And with that, she was off.
Chapter 29
The three of them could not seem to agree on what had occurred back at the mansion. Daniel insisted that the room was some sort of dark lair for the monster that had visited him in his dream. Gregory believed that Nahash was some sort of spirit, and that the wailing creatures were his friends that he conjured up. And Jude remained skeptical as ever, calling their terrifying encounter a simple trick Nahash played to frighten them, and that Daniel’s experience was a hallucination brought on by trauma.
“You’re wrong,” Daniel said as they unlocked the door to their room and went inside. “I know what I saw, and it was real. Something terrible is about to happen. We have to stop him.”
“Stop who, Daniel?” Jude replied as he untied the ribbon from his hair and placed it into a drawer. “You don’t even know what he is—much less what he’s going to do.”
“I know, I know! But I can feel it—a dread growing inside me. I don’t like it. I may not know precisely what is going to happen, but I know that something is coming.”
“Well that’s helpful,” said Gregory in a mocking tone as he flopped down onto his bed. “I’m glad you have this useless power.”
“It’s not useless,” Daniel contested, “I’m nearly always right about my bad feelings—remember that time you wanted to sneak into the theatre?”
Gregory rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”
“Well it burned down the very night you wanted to go. If it weren’t for my ‘bad feeling’ we might have been stuck inside.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Jude matter-of-factly. “You don’t have a lead, and until you do, there is no preventing whatever your ‘bad feelings’ tell you.” He sat down on the edge of his bed, slipped off his boots and slid them underneath.
“It’s a helpless feeling,” Daniel said “to be able to sense evil but do nothing about it.”
“Forget your feelings,” Jude insisted. “It’s all about positioning.”
“Positioning?”
“You might be able to sense evil—and even if you could tell when, where, and what was going to happen, you most likely would be powerless to stop it. What you need is to become a person of influence—then you will have positioned yourself to thwart evil when it arises.”
A renewed sense of passion welled within Daniel. “I’ve always wanted to become a Guardian, but I’ve never known why,” he said. “I’ve often asked myself: is it for fame? For glory? For riches? Or is it simply that I want to fulfill the expectations thrust upon me by others?” Suddenly, right then, he knew his purpose for wanting to become a Guardian. “I want to change things,” he continued. “I want to be a force for good and stop evil—and I will not fail.”
Gregory let out a sigh and rolled over
on to his back. “Well, best of luck to both of you, then.”
“What do you mean, ‘best of luck,’ to us?” asked Daniel. “You’re still in this. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Gregory grunted. “My fate is already decided.” His voice fell, filled with a bitterness that drenched every word. “Jude has the brains, Daniel has the talent. And what do I have? Nothing. The judges know it—everyone knows it. I made it this far by sheer luck. Caden will be the Ruby Guardian—even if I perform to the best of my abilities.”
Silence filled the room at Gregory’s words. Daniel turned and stared at him, a heap of defeat, lying limp on the bed.
“No,” said Jude bluntly, shattering the silence like a hammer against glass. “Don’t be a fool, Gregory—Caden cannot become a Guardian. If he does, there will be disastrous repercussions. He’d be an oppressive dictator if he commands us, and there will always be a struggle for power if he is made a subordinate. It is you, Gregory, and only you who can stop Caden’s rise.”
Gregory laughed at the ceiling, hollow and cold. “Whatever they fed you back there must be going to your head. How am I supposed to beat the one people have deemed the Prince of Flames? It’s impossible. I might as well quit now and save myself the trouble.”
“Stop it, Gregory,” snapped Daniel. “Not another word about quitting. You can defeat him. You have an advantage over Caden.”
Gregory gave Daniel a lazy stare. “And what might that be?”
“Friends,” Daniel encouraged, pointing a thumb to Jude. “Real friends—people who actually care about your fate—people who will help pull you to the top. If you fall, we will pick you up. If you falter, we will spur you on—together we can defeat him: but you have to believe in yourself.”
Gregory blinked, speechless. Then he lay back down on his pillow, arms wrapped around his mid-section like a blanket. He let out a deep breath, his voice quivering. “You don’t understand. Even with your help, I’m a lost cause. I’m a coward. You both went headlong into the arena. But me? I was too scared to move when that gate opened. I sat there like a spineless jellyfish, afraid of whatever lay in front of me.”
“So you were afraid—what of it?” countered Daniel. “Cowardice is not the same as fear.”
Gregory glanced over to Daniel, still lying on his back.
“Cowardice is being faced with a challenge and choosing to flee,” Daniel continued. “Bravery, though, bravery is being afraid—maybe even terrified, trembling in the face of danger— yet, choosing to stand up and face that fear despite the cowardly thoughts that pull upon you. And that’s what you did, Gregory. You fought your fears and plunged into battle.”
Gregory rolled over on his side, eyes flitting to Jude, and then back to Daniel. “You really don’t think I’m a coward?”
“No, not at all,” said Daniel.
Gregory stared at the floor. “It was Caden’s laughter that forced me into that arena—anger boiled in me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew someone had to stop him. I hesitated last time…But I assure you, it won’t happen again.”
The next morning, they exited the city gate and made their way toward the practice grounds outside the city—over the bowed bridges, across tiny islands—where they found Ari waiting for them, dressed in a white frock and brown leggings, hair up in a knot. She stood in a most peculiar pose, Daniel thought. Her right leg was stretched straight at an angle behind her, the tip of her toe pressed against the ground, while her left leg was raised, her knee up as if she were leaping forward. She did not move, hovering in place like a statue. Above her head she held her staff—the orb glowing an iridescent violet, thrumming with energy. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead; the grass beneath her raised leg spun, while the neighboring lawn remained perfectly still. When she saw the boys, she broke her pose. A whir of wind spun around her legs like a miniature cyclone, launching her from the ground, and then setting her down in front of them as gracefully as a gazelle.
“The Mantis Pose,” said Jude.
“I’m impressed,” she responded, wiping her forehead with a handkerchief. “Very few know Kithara’s Stances.”
“Kitha-who’s Stances?” Gregory questioned.
Ari gave him a half smile. “A collection of poses designed to combine intense concentration and physical prowess in order to create perfect balance. Master Kithara came up with one hundred and nine such poses. I have mastered twenty-seven.”
Gregory raised his eyebrows and studied his fingernails. “Fascinating,” he said.
“Indeed.” Ari walked over to a tree where a leather pack lay and leaned her staff against the trunk. She reached down and began to rifle through the pack. “I did as you suggested, Jude. I created a list of Caden’s team.” She pulled out a tightly rolled scroll. “The people I know at least, and I compiled a list of their strengths and weaknesses.” She tossed it to him.
Jude unraveled it and began to read.
“Caden will have a formidable team,” she continued. “He has Sneed—the most talented Gold Miraclist from our school, and the smarter of the twins, Brawn, who makes up for his lack of intelligence with an incredible display of power. Although, I’m convinced he made it this far through dishonest means—but I can’t prove it. Lastly, there’s Elenora, a Sapphire Miraclist who boasts an impressive amount of skill—though she cannot heal so much as a cut.”
“And who did he pick to be his Amethyst and Emerald?” asked Daniel, images of Elenora’s cruel smile flashing across his mind.
“Caden thought I would be his Amethyst and Jude his Emerald,” she said, sitting cross-legged on the ground. “So I do not know who he’s selected. Fortunately, those positions are where they will be weakest.”
“Why’s that?” asked Gregory.
“Because,” inserted Jude, taking a seat across from her, “all the best Miraclists were taken the first day teams were announced.”
Ari nodded. “Unfortunately, the same goes for us. I recruited an Amber and Gold Miraclist for our team, but I’m not sure how they will fare. Fortunately, their scores were high enough to keep us out of the preliminary round.”
All three of the boys exchanged confused looks.
“What preliminary round?” Daniel asked.
Ari looked at them with surprise. “The preliminary round—the round where the four teams out of six with the lowest combined scores—how they scored on their tests, how they performed in the arena—have to compete first, while the two top scoring teams are safe.”
“And when does this happen?” Jude asked.
“Tomorrow.” Ari eyed each of them with a chastising stare. “Didn’t any of you check the schedule?”
“Mordecai usually informs us of the goings on,” Daniel replied. “But we didn’t see him yesterday.”
“I see,” she said reaching back inside her pack and pulling out a white pamphlet. “Well, here is the itinerary. I have committed it to memory, so you should take it. We don’t want to be late to any of the competitions.”
Daniel took the paper and stuck it inside his cloak for safekeeping, then took a seat along with Gregory in a circle. “You said we have the last of our allies. Will they be meeting up with us today?”
“Of course,” she replied, “Tiff Quimby and Gertrude Jenkins. They will be here closer to ten.”
“Good,” said Jude, “in the meantime, let’s get to studying.”
Jude laid the notes out in front of them on the grass, and the four of them pored over it. All of Ari’s notes were highly detailed, especially about Caden, though the majority of them were on his strengths, as he possessed no blatant weaknesses.
“None of us could beat Caden in head-to-head combat, I’m afraid,” she said to them, “not even Daniel, who has the clear advantage.”
Daniel felt a jab at his sense of pride. “And why not? I think I could take him.”
“Caden has had the best coaches, teachers, and mentors money can buy from the time he was a small child—courtesy of his father. He has b
een trained extensively in how to defeat any opponent, the easiest being Emerald—their defenses are naturally combustible—and the most difficult being Sapphire. Jude is our strongest Miraclist, yet he is at a natural disadvantage.” She looked up at Gregory and Daniel who looked incredulous, wanting to argue with her but holding their tongues. “Our best, at least according to the scores.”
That last bit seemed to placate them enough to continue their discussion. By the time the clock reached nine, they all felt fairly secure in who their opponents were. Sneed played a support role by paralyzing his enemies, and relying heavily on Caden and Brawn’s prowess to finish the job. Brawn wasn’t all that smart, so it would be easy to confuse him. Elenora was fast on the uptake—the quicker they could eliminate her, the better. Caden’s greatest weakness, (though Daniel wasn’t entirely sure how it hindered him) was his pride.
The sound of a trumpet rang out from atop the city gate. Some distance away, a drawbridge built into the northern wall cranked open. Led by General Tiberius, a parade of warhorses clopped across the bridge, tossing their manes and snorting. The General rode a massive white horse, his blue cape falling behind him. His armor flashed in the sunshine, his neat chestnut hair exposed, squared jaw clenched like an angry mastiff. The man was truly an impressive figure, Daniel thought—head and shoulders taller than most, muscular arms and legs like tree-trunks. Row upon row of soldiers marched behind him, white tunics emblazoned with a bright blue lion on the front over chainmail gear.
“So they march on Irachnia after all,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “I was hoping Tiberius and Mordecai could put a stop to it.”
“To fight for one’s country should be an honor,” said Ari. “But this is not a fight. This is an extermination. My father opposes war. But his voice is too small, I’m afraid.”
They watched as thousands of men, horses, catapults, cattle, and sheep, emptied out across the bridges and onto the grassy prairie, up a sloping hill and then as they disappeared over the horizon. The procession seemed endless, and Jude became impatient.