Jackal’s Gambit

by C A Ardron

  Jay's spine went rigid as the Sarpiens all looked at him when Cobra paused. Were they talking about him?

  Cobra leered at him, ‘and of course, the younger the specimen, the easier the conversion.’

  Jay swallowed, what did he mean by conversion?

  Jackal was looking around the chamber. ‘Where's Mantis?’

  ‘He left awhile back,’ Harrier supplied.

  Jackal shook his head in annoyance. ‘Cobra, I think it’s time for a test run.’

  Jay went rigid again as Jackal pointed a finger at him, his face as cold as stone.

  ‘Be still. Your time will come.’ Jackal turned on his heel and stood, fists on hips, as Cobra went back to the gleaming machine.

  Jay didn't know what to think. Jackal had implied he was going to help him earlier, but now he was as awful as before. Could Jackal be trusted? He found himself looking at that torch again. He needed to do something, to try to escape. He couldn't wait around to be rescued. With Karen gone, there'd be no one coming to help him. Even if the Predgarians wanted to help him, what could they do against Sarpiens?

  Jay hadn't been paying attention to what Cobra had been doing at Power Converter, but he stared as two Sarpiens descended the steps, dragging a boy about his age with them.

  He was taller than Jay, his clothes dirty and ripped. His eyes were terrified, Jay thought he must be even more scared than he was.

  Cobra gestured for the Sarpiens to bring the teenager to him and then pointed at the Converter.

  Jay gaped in horror. He hadn't noticed before, but the steel base had sturdy, iron manacles attached to it. The two Sarpiens forced the boy down onto the steel base and locked his legs and arms into the manacles.

  Jay winced as the boy cried out in pain. The Sarpiens were so rough they almost pulled the boys arm out of its socket.

  ‘What's going to happen?’ Jay asked, unable to stop his voice from shaking.

  His guards looked down at him disdainfully. They were both taller than him, though they were both clearly teenagers. The one on his right ignored him but the other snorted softly.

  ‘Who knows,’ he replied. ‘I wouldn't be in your shoes right now, that's for sure.’

  Jay looked back at the Sarpiens in the centre of the chamber. Harrier was at the control panel now, but it was Cobra that made him stare. He was holding a sturdy metal staff of some dark metal. Jay suspected it might be iron. It was surmounted by a large purple jewel. He'd counted about eight sides to the polished gem before he stopped, realising there was a strange light pulsating from within it.

  Cobra took the staff in both hands and raised it above his head. As Harrier started to flip some switches, Cobra began to chant words Jay couldn't understand, his voice measured and rhythmic.

  The jewel atop the staff began to brighten as the needle-sharp tips of the metal beams began to glow with an incandescent white light. Sparks of electricity began to run up and down the beams with a crackling sound.

  The energy coalesced into a large ball in the centre of the four needles and stayed there for a few moments, burning ominously.

  Cobra said three more strange words and swept the staff down in a cutting motion. As he did the orb shot down, creating a powerful beam. Jay shook as he heard the boy chained to the base of the Power Converter scream in terror and agony. Even more terrible than this was the way the boy's shriek suddenly cut off and Jay closed his eyes as the beam of light shorted out, not wanting to see.

  After a few seconds he opened his eyes again, a morbid curiosity overcoming him. He was frozen at the implications of what he saw. The steel circle was empty and steam was rising from all around it. Cobra was knelt down next to it, the staff balanced on his lap and in one hand was a large clear jewel tinged with the faintest of azure light.

  The sorcerer scowled in contempt. ‘Mediocre, barely worth the effort.’ He rose from his crouch and tossed the glistening gem to Jackal.

  The general examined it. ‘Still an impressive feat, Cobra. At least we know it works.’

  Cobra muttered something incomprehensible and turned his evil stare on Jay. ‘Let's hope Jay Morgan is as gifted as we think, otherwise Lord Trine won't have much to look forward to with his dinner.’

  Jay bumped against the wall behind him as he retreated a few steps. His two guards grabbed his shoulders in case he decided to run. Dinner? They were going to turn him into a stone and feed him to the sclithe!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  ‘Do you intend to take Swallow's advice?’ Wolf asked Lion.

  ‘No,’ the young captain admitted. ‘My orders from the general come first. I won't involve the Dakkonin unless I'm left with absolutely no choice. I am going to hang back for now though. You all head out, let me know if you find any ways into the Sarpien tunnels. I'll keep watch over the Centre and wait for Dove to return. Hopefully she'll have some good news for us.’ He turned his helmeted head to look at Falcon. ‘Armour on, I want you in the sky with Hawk.’

  Falcon nodded. She kept all she was feeling firmly on the inside, not wanting them to know how nervous she was about activating the silver coin she'd been given. She took hold of it in one hand. She didn't need to be told how to use it or control its power, she learned that years ago - but she still feared it. She knew medallions were neutral, able to be used by people no matter their ambitions and motives, but still her mind connected it to her old life, when the sclithe had used her for the very worst of reasons.

  The Predgarians would know there was something wrong if she hesitated even a second longer, so she purposefully threw out those thoughts, concentrating on nothing but the falcon. The coin in her hand flared up in its silvery light. Falcon could feel it connect with her soul for the first time and amplify every skill, every ability she owned.

  She felt the mind of the falcon, sharp, curious, as it found its place inside her. She felt it accepting her personal motives and desires and in response, coalesced around her. The light faded and she looked down at herself, wanting to see what her new soul mate had chosen for her.

  Her armour was the standard light armour of the swift Avian class, the breastplate, armguards, greaves and gauntlets gleamed with not a blemish in sight. The armour did not join as closely as the average light warrior's, being made up instead by a slightly darker leather. She flexed her arm experimentally. The leather was tough but flexible, it would make for much faster movement than if she'd been wearing the closer fitting metal plates which Hawk, Leopard and Tiger sported.

  She concentrated and the three sharp prongs that made up a claw slid out the top of her right gauntlet.

  ‘Predgarians don't normally use claws,’ Tiger mentioned. Though her tone was friendly, she had her head cocked to one side, studying her. ‘They're dangerous weapons.’

  Using her thoughts alone, Falcon retracted the long blades. ‘When fighting Sarpiens, such weapons can be useful.’

  ‘Still,’ Lion spoke up, ‘Predgarians try to avoid the loss of life. Try to stick to your daggers.’

  Daggers? Falcon looked down and indeed, strapped to her waist were two long daggers. She unsheathed one of them. It was silver-hilted, thin and slightly curved. A variation of the type of dagger she'd always preferred in battle. She sheathed it again quickly, noting she also had smaller knives strapped to her silver boots. She didn't have to feel her head to know that she wore the same Avian half-mask as the Bronze Hawk, though she did pause when her hair caught her attention. It had turned a very pale silver and was now twice as long.

  ‘Curious,’ she murmured. ‘It seems my desire to stay anonymous was picked up by the medallion.’

  ‘Yes,’ Lion agreed. ‘Even to the point of changing your skin.’

  Falcon looked up, startled and removed her left gauntlet, revealing her skin. He was right, it no longer had the yellowish tint which marked her as Unician. It was pale, even more so than the usual southerner of Steiron. It was paler too than Hawk's skin, and the skin tone of the Ischaclappe Islanders were the lightest to be fo
und on Courin.

  Falcon replaced her gauntlet and turned to her temporary captain. ‘I'm ready.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘Take it slow, use this time to get used to your armour and wings.’

  Falcon jerked at his words.

  ‘You'd forgotten, hadn't you?’ Hawk guessed with a grin.

  Gingerly, not really sure how she was doing it, she extended her giant, silvery-grey wings. ‘You'll have to humour me,’ she told them. ‘I've never had wings before.’

  ‘Never?’ Wolf asked in surprise. ‘Weren't you an Avian back in your Sarpien days?’

  Falcon snapped her wings closed a little more quickly than she intended. ‘We should go,’ she responded, deciding to ignore Wolf's question. ‘We don't know how much time we have.’

  ***

  Tiger gazed up at the last hints of sunset as she left the Centre. The giant red Kaliij had already set, leaving just the last tints of pinky-orange. Hunoth, the small blue-white sun, was low in the sky and the ethereal blue it cast during this short half hour of the day was now darkening towards nightfall.

  She watched as Hawk and Falcon took to the air. Hawk had assured Falcon that her animal counterpart would make flying instinctual, and the new Avian certainly wasn't showing any signs of trouble. Tiger did notice that Leopard was scowling at the pair, now just distant shapes in the sky. She also noticed Wolf was already striding down the street purposefully.

  Tiger took a deep breath, hoping that a cheerful outlook would pick Leopard up. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘So we need to be looking for seedy alleys, abandoned buildings and scrubland with suspicious indents.’

  Leopard scowled at her. ‘Falcon was so specific.’

  Tiger sighed. She liked Leopard and considered her a good friend, but sometimes she really made things difficult. Gesturing with one hand for her to follow, she started down the street, choosing the opposite direction to Wolf. There was no point in covering the same ground after all.

  ‘Aren't you suspicious at all?’

  Tiger stopped herself from sighing again. ‘The decision's been made, Leopard. Let's just focus on our mission.’

  ‘You won't be saying that if Falcon stabs one of us in the back.’

  Tiger pursed her lips. It was true that Falcon's claw had given her pause. Warriors that used claws in battle didn't usually have qualms about killing their adversaries. That was to be expected of an ex-Sarpien though. It didn't mean Falcon was a danger to them.

  ‘Dove seems to trust her,’ Tiger reminded her.

  She heard an angry growl rise in Leopard's throat. Glancing at the other Feline, she decided to make a point of her own, something that had occurred to her earlier. It would make Leopard angry, but she needed to hear it.

  ‘I wouldn't be so quick to judge Falcon,’ Tiger told her as they turned onto another street. Her eyes studied the houses, but it wasn't likely they'd find an entrance so close to the Centre. More likely in the closer packed terraces or in town. ‘You and Falcon have more in common than you think.’

  ‘What?’

  Tiger smiled to herself. She didn't need to glance in Leopard's direction to know she was scowling. ‘Your fighting styles,’ she went on. ‘You're both direct, even brutal, giving your enemies no quarter.’

  ‘I'm nothing like a Sarpien!’

  Tiger held back her grin, Leopard had taken the bait. ‘Exactly. Don't you think Falcon said that too?’

  She glanced sideways at her partner, seeing, as she had hoped, Leopard's startled expression.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘People aren't born Sarpiens, Leopard. The sclithe don't want civilians, they want warriors. Chances are, Falcon was once a medallion warrior in the five Orders. She might have been Dakkonin, who knows? Do you think she went down easy? Do you think you'd go down easy?’

  Leopard didn't reply and Tiger glanced in her direction again. The short woman was scowling, but not in anger, it was clear she was mulling over what had been said.

  ‘We must never forget,’ Tiger continued in a softer tone. ‘We like to pretend this war is black and white, but it's not.’ She decided to say no more, it was best to leave Leopard to her thoughts now.

  Tiger paused as she heard some commotion nearby. She looked around quickly, not seeing anybody.

  ‘Probably on a different street,’ Leopard told her as she drew out her long, thin daggers.

  There was the sound of metal ringing off cement and a then a coarse voice, one used to command.

  ‘So much for there being no Sarpiens around,’ Tiger complained. ‘Come on, let's go see if we can scare them off.’

  Leopard put one hand on her partner's shoulder. ‘Not so fast, this could be our chance. If we tail them they might lead us to an entrance.’

  Tiger grinned at her, happy to have the old Leopard back. ‘Good idea, but we might still have to chase them off to get them moving.’

  Leopard grinned back. ‘We can hope.’

  Tiger drew her runed short sword. She didn't let it erupt into flame just yet, but she wanted it ready. With a bit of luck, these Sarpiens wouldn't be Elites. Lesser Sarpiens quite often ran at the sight of a flaming blade. Such a weapon plainly indicated that they faced a fire warrior.

  They hurried down the street, rushing around the corner onto another road filled with houses, all nicely decorated with neat lawns and flowerbeds.

  Tiger stopped herself short in the middle of the street and Leopard came to a standstill right beside her. They both let out an audible groan when they saw what was causing the commotion.

  Tiger glanced at her partner and found her glancing right back.

  ‘Well?’ Leopard asked. ‘How do you want to handle this?’

  Tiger looked down the street again, scowling at the three warriors stood, shouting something incomprehensible at two civilians on the street. The three were not in armour, but they didn’t need to be. Tiger would recognise that slim female figure, shoulder-length silvery blonde hair and penetrating voice anywhere.

  She purposefully made the scowl drop from her face and put her sword back in its scabbard.

  ‘Well,’ she said, raising her voice, allowing it to carry down the wide street. ‘It seems the Dakkonin are back in town.’

  As soon as she started to speak, she saw the silver-haired woman’s shoulders rise, her back becoming rigid. As usual, the tall but thin warrior was wearing a tight vest and loose trousers, ready for combat anywhere, with or without a medallion.

  The woman turned around, allowing Tiger to see her usual haughty expression.

  ‘The Predgarian warrior, Fire Tiger,’ she stated, her voice unfriendly. ‘Doing your rounds? Helped many old ladies across the road today?’

  Tiger stopped her fists from clenching, she refused to give the Silver Locust such satisfaction. She sent her a pleasant smile instead.

  ‘I might have,’ she replied, trying to keep any irritation showing in her voice. ‘If I wasn't busy chasing off Jackal and his Elite. But I suppose that happens when the Dakkonin go on a wild goose chase.’

  Leopard positioned herself next to Tiger, feet apart and hands behind her back. She nodded once with her head to the two teenagers on the street, giving them permission to leave. They happily scurried away from the Dakkonin, leaving the warriors to fight amongst themselves.

  The woman in her pale Feline armour may have looked relaxed but Tiger noticed one of her boot knives were missing, most likely already in her hands, concealed behind her back.

  ‘Goose chase?’ The young man beside Locust asked, sounding scandalised.

  Tiger had met him once before. The Red Hawkmoth. He was a good fighter, but looked no older than sixteen, his butter-blond hair short and scruffy and face heavily freckled.

  ‘We were fighting the Sarpiens! They raided East Sector.’

  Tiger smirked beneath her mask as the third member of the Dakkonin, a heavyset warrior wearing a pair of smart black trousers and a warm blue sweater, put a hand through his greying hair. Tiger recognised h
im instantly, after all, the Grey Eagle was considered one of the most experienced warriors alive in all of the five Orders, not just the Dakkonin.

  ‘Yes, well,’ Eagle said, his voice mild. ‘Dakkonin must go where they are needed most, just as any Predgarian must.’

  Leopard snorted derisively.

  ‘That’s not good enough and you know it,’ Tiger countered. ‘West Sector was left unprotected by you today. The raid was a diversion, meanwhile Jackal was walking around town like he owned the place!’

  Locust crossed her arms, her mouth turning up in a nasty smirk. ‘Where was Fire Tiger, the best elemental in Steiron? Oh, that’s right, cowering in a corner waiting for us to come back.’

  Tiger's jaw dropped at the audacity. She stepped forwards furiously, her fists clenching. Leopard gripped her shoulder, trying to stop her but she pulled away - she was the Fire Tiger! Locust couldn't disrespect her this way.

  As Eagle tried to hold Locust back, two Avians dropped out of the sky. They landed directly behind the three Dakkonin.

  The warriors spun around, their hands instinctively reaching for their medallions. They visibly relaxed then they realised one of the pair was Hawk. Tiger straightened, her anger momentarily forgotten when she realised Falcon’s presence had stumped the Sarpien hunters.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Tiger said with a smug grin. ‘You haven’t met the Silver Falcon yet, have you?’

  Grey Eagle nodded to the fellow Avian respectfully. ‘I wasn't aware there were any silvers among the Predgarian Avians in Steiron. I am Grey Eagle, a Dakkonin warrior.’

  Falcon nodded back but remained silent.

  ‘We haven’t seen you before,’ Locust told her harshly, ‘where have you transferred from?’

  Tiger folded her arms, she was going to enjoy this. ‘She became a Predgarian today. She thought it best with there being no Dakkonin around.’

  Tiger relished the steely silence, that would show them.

  ‘You joined today?’ Red Hawkmoth asked. ‘From off the street?’