The King of the Skies

by Robert J. Crane

“No telling,” said Clay.

  “Why are you along on this journey, exactly?” Heidi asked him. “I don’t know that you’ve provided really any information we couldn’t have got on Google Maps, have you?”

  “Don’t be snippy with Clay,” I said distractedly. Damn it, where should I head?

  Logic dictated the key would be somewhere near the center, but—

  “Oh, geez,” said Carson—only now his torpor had left him, and his voice rose in frustration.

  My eyebrows knitted, I turned back to him.

  He stared over my shoulder.

  I jerked around, knowing already—

  My heart skipped.

  Leaning out over on the other side of the arena, having arrived his own way, stood Tyran Burnton. His greying pompadour was comically apparent across the gulf between us, as was his chin.

  Also almost comic was the wave he gave us.

  “Damn it,” I said.

  “Language!” the mom worms chorused at me. “I raised you better than that!”

  “You didn’t raise me at all,” I answered. So maybe you can stop appropriating my mother’s voice for two seconds, I added in my mind.

  Burnton cupped hands to either side of his mouth in an impromptu megaphone. “Nice to see you again!”

  “The feeling isn’t mutual!” I shouted back.

  He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made my grind my teeth. “Too funny! But seriously, you should turn back now. We’ve all seen that you cannot contend with the rugged, Alpha-male dominance of me or my men—”

  “‘Rugged’?” Heidi’s face contorted scornfully. “You look like a gang of pirate Ken dolls!”

  “—so what makes you think you’ll fare any better in this arena than the last?”

  “Your luck has run out, Burnton!” I shouted back. “My name is Mira Brand, and this quest is mine!” And I leapt off into the arena.

  Burnton shook his head. “I haven’t heard of you. But if you insist … my men and I will deliver a beating so thorough that even your mother will feel it!”

  He jumped too—to a chorus of cheers from his men—and my own mother’s shout, into my head and I assume Burnton’s too:

  “I HEARD THAT.”

  11

  I landed on the first boulder, hard—and the impact sent it spinning. I braced, gripping tight with my nails as the arena spun around me—

  Burnton laughed, a riotous, mirthful boom. “I warned you! Try not to get airsick, hm? Though if you do—perhaps a breath of Mother Hayland’s Antisickness Smelling Salts will calm your rattled nerves?”

  “Why do you have another endorsement deal already?” I cried through gritted teeth.

  “What can I say? My people work fast.”

  The spin of the rock beneath me was sickening. Even worse was Burnton’s voice, and not just because he had his head jammed so far up his backside that it brought “smug” to a level worthy of Emmanuel. The boulder’s rotation meant his voice snaked around, spiraling as I twisted, adding another layer of nausea to the experience—

  Then I saw Heidi surging through empty space my way, just for a second as my field of view spun past. Empty space—and then the rock juddered again, setting off on a new course.

  At the very least the frantic spin stopped. She’d oriented her landing to slow the spin of the car-sized boulder. It wasn’t perfectly still, but at least my eyes weren’t rolling around in my head in their desperate attempt to latch onto literally anything for focus.

  “What are you doing?” I breathed dizzily.

  “Keeping you from puking your guts up,” Heidi said. “Plus, Carson and Clay got the last victory. I get to help with this one.”

  Ugh. Why did they want to help in the arena itself? Burnton had screwed me over last time, and on top of that was getting advertising deals when literally no one had ever come knocking for me, Mira Brand, who was the most famous of all, after winning the Chalice Gloria.

  I … I was most famous, right? Even though I was getting no deals whatsoever? I mean, it was kind of hard to tell. We didn’t run in Seeker circles very often, so it wasn’t like anyone had really recognized me or anything. Word had spread, according to Clay, but …

  Why did no one want to hire me to endorse a bunch of absolute rubbish? I found the Chalice Gloria!

  Burnton was no one, no one at all; just an oversized chin and ego with a body attached and a stupid set of pirate clothes he’d probably bought from Harsterra’s equivalent to Amazon. To top that off, he had cheated me out of the prize that we had won fair and square in the first arena, mostly thanks to me fighting off Burnton and buying Clay and Carson time.

  I needed to beat Burnton, and I needed to beat him alone.

  So, feeling a pang of guilt, I set my face—and kicked off from the boulder, sending it into a frenetic spin, and me toward the arena’s central area.

  “Mira!” Heidi roared. She swore, a particularly venomous word that she filled with a few more vowels than it rightfully had as I surged away.

  “Was that really necessary?” the mum-worms intoned. “That poor girl. She must feel so sick.”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Look at him,” they said. “He’s so gracious and careful, in constant communication with his friends. Why can’t you be the same? She was only trying to help.”

  “I don’t need help,” I grunted, landing heavily on another asteroid. The edges were hard and sharp, another shattered fragment that had not turned molten in the impact that broke apart Biristall. Hard edges dug into my palms, almost razor sharp. I bit back a curse, but had to hold on; the collision sent it pirouetting lower into the hexagonal chamber, end over end.

  “Do be careful, Meer,” came my mother’s voice. “I’d hate for you to hurt yourself. That did hurt, didn’t it?”

  “No,” I lied. It did sting, a lot. “I’m fine.”

  “I can tell when you’re not, and it’s okay, it is. I just wish you’d let me help you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, is help you.”

  “Go help Burnton when he cries after I wipe that stupid grin off his ugly mug,” I growled back and took another flying leap.

  The arena surged past—and I realized, almost too late, that I’d timed my jump poorly. The spin on the last rock had put me slightly off-course for my next target, a little chunk the size and rough shape of an office chair. I’d go sailing past—and there was nothing past it, not very close anyway, that I’d collide with instead.

  I’d go flying straight out of the arena.

  “Damn it,” I cursed. I contorted, twisting in the direction I needed to go, hoping that the little jerk of my body would be enough to change my course—

  The gently rotating asteroid loomed, growing closer—

  Still wide—but I threw my arms out, grabbing for it—

  My fingers caught the edge. I gripped tight, as best I could—but it wasn’t quite enough, and the rock tumbled around. Friction held my fingers in place for a second as I tumbled with it—and then, as I found myself looking back up the arena, in the direction I had come from, they gave out, and I was falling.

  “Oh, dear …” the mum-worms whined.

  “Shut up!” I shouted back, gritting my teeth against the whine of fluid in my ear, sloshing madly, dizzying—

  Burnton chortled. “Goading you, are they?” He was a way back, perched on a softly bobbing asteroid and looking over it at me, toothy, brilliant white grin plastered on his face. His pirates were following behind, one by one, leaving a trail of spinning rock in their wake. “Strange; the worms have been nothing but pleasant to me. Have they to you, Barnes?”

  “Perfectly hospitable,” Barnes agreed from somewhere to Burnton’s rear.

  I ground my teeth together. Just as I feared.

  Well, I would prove them all wrong. I was capable, far more than my mother dared to believe, and probably still dared to believe, even after I’d won so many challenges. I’d show her. I’d win this.

  I’d show them all—Bur
nton and his pirates and these damned worms, chattering away softly, judgmental and passive-aggressively doting and so bloody unbearably, like my mother—

  I jerked my body around, my best approximation of a cat—a very ungainly one—and took aim at a boulder coming up fast—

  I threw my arms out, gripping them around it like I’d wrap someone I loved in a bear hug. My legs followed, holding on desperately tight as it began to spin, turning me around and around—

  My inner ear danced in a maddening frenzy. Nausea bubbled up from nowhere. I closed my eyes, holding on tighter.

  Do not be sick, I told myself. Whatever you do, do not be sick. It will go everywhere.

  “Be careful!” my mother cried—no, the mum-worms; she was not here, never would be.

  “I am careful!” I roared. “Would you just leave me alone?”

  “Are you eating well?” they said again. “You’re looking awfully thin. I’m certain you’d act more rationally if you were fed properly. I wish I knew what had gotten into you.”

  “Shut up!”

  Burnton laughed. “What are they saying now? Oh, I do wish I could hear it.”

  I shouted at him this time rather than the disembodied voice of my mother being beamed into my head by the bulbous worms watching us from the edges of the arena. I won’t repeat what I said, but if I hadn’t forced Heidi into a nauseating spin and left her by herself, she would be very proud of me.

  “Hah! My, you are a very unladylike one, aren’t you?”

  “Well, you can teach me about what it means to be ladylike sometime,” I snapped back, “dressed in that flouncy, gold-rimmed thing.”

  “This? It’s pirate fashion. Functional and attractive.”

  “It’s awful, and I would be ashamed to be seen in it.”

  Burnton grinned. “You’re very uneducated in matters of the world. And that’s a shame. Another shame—” He took a flying leap, surging through space toward me—and landed heavily on a boulder just a few meters left and behind me, closing the gap to practically nothing. It wobbled, but he fought back with a steadying wobble of his own, getting the asteroid under control—not at all like mine, which was rotating in a lazy circle, turning me upside-down yet again as I searched for another.

  “—is that it looks like you won’t give up without a fight. So a fight it will have to be.” He unsheathed his sword, flicking his blade dramatically.

  “Fine by me.”

  I unlooped Decidian’s Spear from my belt, perhaps one of the first and only times I’d entered combat without just snapping it off, and shook it to full length. It grew, pointed tip reflecting the soft purple streaked between the stars outside of the arena.

  “Put that down now,” the mum-worms ordered, voice suddenly sharp with command, like the mother I knew best, “Do as I say this minute!” her forte. “You’ll poke your eye out!”

  “Or his,” I replied.

  “I’ll assume that is a threat,” said Burnton.

  “You assume right.”

  “What’s happened to you?” said Mum mournfully. “I told you not to leave. This world is too dangerous. It’s changed you. You’re not the daughter I used to know.”

  “And you’re not my mother. Nor am I giving this fight up to someone who looks like they’ve come from a dodgy Halloween party.”

  Burnton frowned. “Halloween? What’s—aha!”

  I leapt for him, spear extended—

  Burnton deflected the blow with his sword.

  The impact sent the rock—our rock, now that I was on the other side of it, brandishing my spear—careening sideways. My weight wasn’t enough to overpower the downward momentum Burnton had given it on his landing, but I did slow us, sending us spiraling toward one side of the arena.

  “Savvy move,” said Burnton, “distracting me with your nonsense words. Unfortunately, I’m just too wise.”

  “You’re a pompous buffoon,” I said, swiping for him again with the spear—he deflected with another clang—” and you need to be brought down a peg by someone who is actually worthy of the praise.”

  “You could be, one day,” he said smugly. “But not today.”

  I swung again, but Burnton knocked my blow off-course.

  Doing battle here was difficult. Twisting to look behind me—and trusting that Burnton wouldn’t try to slice my head off while I wasn’t looking—I found a new asteroid to attack from. I jumped backward, landing on it, then swinging up again with the spear—but now I was moving away again, and I couldn’t cross the gap to swing.

  “Come down here and fight like a man!” I bellowed at him.

  “I always fight like a man,” he answered. “I don’t typically fight precious, somewhat impolite young waifs, though …”

  I swore at Burnton again, earning more admonishment in my mother’s voice.

  “… but seeing as you are so fiercely inclined toward it, on this occasion I shall entertain the offer.” And down Burnton leapt, following, sword pointed straight for me—

  I swung the spear up to meet it, banging his blade aside. But he brought it back round in a moment, giving it another elaborate swirl in his hands, before landing hard at my side.

  “You really ought to leave, dear girl,” he told me kindly.

  “You should listen to him,” said my mother’s voice. “This isn’t the place for someone like you. You’re not cut out for this.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I am cut out for more than you think.”

  Burnton’s smile widened. “Is that directed at me? Or the voices in your head right now?”

  “ARGH!” Boiling point reached.

  I stabbed out at him again—but once again he met my spear, pushing me back. In zero-gravity, it was harder to rebalance, and I teetered for a desperate moment …

  A chill raised gooseflesh on my arms.

  But there came no killing strike from Burnton.

  “Fight me!” I roared at him, rebalancing and pushing back against the wave of fear that had overtaken me for that moment.

  “I am,” he said, perfectly casual.

  “Fight properly! Like you want to kill me!”

  His eyebrows knitted. “Do you have a death wish? Is that why you’re out here? I’m sorry, missy, but I shan’t be the one to deliver you from this world.”

  I roared, and stabbed out again—

  Another cool deflection.

  Burnton grinned. His eyes twinkled. “Remember what I said before? We’re not killers.”

  “Neither am I. But at least I fight properly—” a thrust; spear and blade rebounded, “—and not with any of this pansy honor nonsense—” another strike—Burnton swiped me away easily—

  I screamed, sound reverberating around the arena.

  “Mira!” my mother gasped.

  Burnton just grinned. “I’ll happily give you a fairer shot, if you think you’re not getting one. It is challenging here, is it not?”

  “I’m not leaving the arena to fight you.” Again, I stabbed out; again, Burnton avoided my blow, slamming blade into spear tip.

  “You don’t have to,” he said—and he pointed over my shoulder.

  I turned to look.

  The center of the arena approached. In the midst of my flailing battle with Burnton, I had missed the dense rocks passing us as we drew closer and closer. We’d passed through a veritable swarm now, obscuring much of the arena’s outer edges—and where a line of sight could be found, the bulbous, pulsating bodies of the worms blocked it as they swam in to watch the spectacle about to unfold.

  A hexagonal platform filled the middle of the space, a short span of rocky walkway extending from each point in a straight line. The hexagon itself was not solid: just an outline, the walkways at the corners all extended inside, meeting in the middle. Enclosed in a shimmering bubble, I could see a pedestal like the one in the last temple. On top of it was the second key to Brynn Overson’s crypt—

  The key that would grant Burnton and his men access to a treasure even greater than the
Chalice Gloria, if he was able to take it first.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  Swiping one last time for Burnton, I prayed he would be slowed long enough—and then I took a flying leap from the rock, down to the waiting platform below.

  Burnton guffawed. “You’ll have to be smarter than that!” And he shot past me.

  “If you ate better and worked out properly, instead of running yourself to the bone like you do,” said my mother’s voice, “you might have better leg strength. Not as much as him, but still.”

  “Oh, be quiet,” I muttered. “I have a fight to win.”

  I touched down, on the far side of the crypt key—separated from it by Burnton, who stood brandishing his sword, eyes tracking me on my flight to a stable surface.

  “And a fight it shall be,” he said.

  He granted me a moment to adjust my grip on the haft of Decidian’s Spear—

  And then I hurtled forward to strike.

  12

  He parried the blow easily.

  I whipped around, swinging in low.

  Burnton danced back a step. He brought his blade to bear, catching the tip of Decidian’s Spear at least twelve inches before it could sail through the skin of his kneecap.

  Not even close.

  I grunted, drew back the spear, and jabbed forward. It was a graceless move, but full of that power and emotion that Barnes had chastised Heidi for during yesterday’s skirmish. I hoped it would be enough to get through—

  And still Burnton was quicker, knocking my blow off-course and sidestepping to ensure he was a full foot clear of taking the blade through the guts.

  “I do wish you’d take my advice,” said Burnton, “and make off while you can. You won’t win this.”

  “Watch me.”

  I stabbed for him again, high—then I jerked it low.

  Burnton’s eyes widened for a second. He swung the blade down to catch me—but the strike was a lot closer to his body than before, maybe four inches separating his hip and the point where steel clashed and rang.

  “A feint,” he observed. “Good move. But I am quicker.”

  I swung again, aware of the pirates landing on the other walkways leading into the hexagon’s bubble and the crypt key within. None of them moved beyond where they dropped, turning instead to watch my battle with their leader. Which was good, because it meant the crypt key was still mine for the taking … though not so good when I did get a shot off and their “code of ethics” went out the window, the way it had when Clay and Carson had claimed the first key.