by Pemry Janes
Leraine had little hope Rock would hear her over the hooting and screaming of everybody else. Yes, supposedly his magic enhanced his senses as it did everything else. But the crowd was very loud.
Then Rock raised his hand in her direction and quickened once more. “That’s it!” She kept standing even as Rock disappeared from view. She wasn’t here just to cheer him on. Members of her own tribe were running in this race as well, both from Urumoy and elsewhere. One was a man, even.
Ghisa did not lend itself easily to running. When a warrior sought the aid of their Great Spirit, they almost always could only call upon the aspect that they had the most affinity for. And all Great Spirits had their own set of aspects.
With Ghisa, speed usually came in short bursts or lightning fast reactions. Leraine prided herself on her deep connection to the first snake, but it was a more general connection. More like that of a shaman, though nothing like their command of it.
If I’d joined this race, I’d be like those unfortunate ones.
And they were unfortunate. The last of the competitors huffed by as the crowd started their own competition. Theirs was to see who could come up with the best insult for those who had clearly overestimated their ability.
Leraine simply sat down rather than join in. They stood no chance, yes. But they were here to honor the spirits. That, if nothing else, should be respected.
***
Eurik’s lungs screamed, his legs ached. He’d just finished the second round, only the third and final one to go. But he’d never had to use this much wind chiri for this long.
He dodged around a swipe by a competitor. He and two others were still fighting over first place. And fight was the right word as hands, elbows, and shoulders were employed to try and knock someone else back.
Arrogance. Why did I think nobody else could keep up with me? I should have realized these spirits the Mochedan use are capable of great feats too. The Ways don’t make me invincible. I’m no master.
And more trouble appeared up ahead. They’d caught up to the stragglers. To Eurik, they practically stood still and they all passed them before they knew what was going on. All but one, who got pushed into one of the stragglers by a woman with several teeth threaded through her draen.
Eurik nearly stopped at the sound of breaking bones as they slammed into the unyielding Inza stone. A glance back showed him some people already leaving the crowd to help the fallen. And it wasn’t like he could do much here, cut off from earth chiri.
He let the wind carry away that concern as well and faced forward once more.
***
They came around the bend, weaving through the slower runners. Leraine got to her feet, everybody did. “Go, go, go, go!” “You can do it!” “Wolf!” “Puma!” “Elk!”
But none cheered the runner in a solid third position, nipping at the heels of the two just in front of him. None but her. “Run, Rock! Run!”
One of the two in front looked back at Rock, maybe worried he was getting too close. He shouldn’t have done that because the other took that moment to pull at his trousers and she yanked them down. It didn’t slide down much, but it messed up his pace.
It also caused him to almost collide with Rock if he hadn’t jumped over the runner. Then they were across the finishing line and they slowed down. “YES!”
He hadn’t won, but coming in second in any of the Conclave Games was a feat worthy of celebration. Rock nodded to the winner. Leraine thought she was from Wolf though it was hard to tell from this distance and angle. Could be Boar as well.
However, the one who came in fourth after he’d had his pants pulled down in front of everybody—the one who clearly belonged to Puma—stalked toward the winner with a snarl. His shouts were garbled but still audible.
He’s not going to attack another contestant? Not here? Not now!
If he wanted to, he didn’t get the chance as Rock put a hand on his shoulder. That didn’t calm the Puma down, but it did redirect his anger. He tried to shove Rock, who stepped back. This caused the Puma to stumble and laughter began to bubble forth from the people watching it all unfold.
Roaring, the Puma went for a clawing strike at Rock, only to have some of the judging shamans pounce on him instead. He stumbled as they worked their will upon him, a rope snaking out from around one of the shaman’s waists to catch him and pull him away.
Leraine wanted to dismiss the incident. People got worked up. Some trained for years just to compete here during the festival. But then there were the groups of Truce Warriors walking around, daring everybody. And that murderer who could wear the face of another. It all felt like this year’s festival was dry tinder, just waiting for the spark.
Chapter 14
Caught Up
Eurik watched as one after another failed to clear the bar. The stone toss event had been a straightforward affair. Contestants had to throw a stone the size of an apple as far as they could. It had been the only event where he could use earth chiri, drawn straight from the heavy stone they provided.
It had been a balancing act, too much and the stone would have disintegrated, not enough and his throw would have fallen far short of what many of his competitors were managing. But he’d gotten through that event with a respectable distance of eighty-four paces, though the best had neared a bowshot.
So it came down to this third event, jumping over a wooden rod suspended between two poles to see who could jump the highest. Touch the bar, or fail to get over it, and you were out. Already the competition had been whittled down to him, a couple of people who had done very well in stone toss, as well as Springstep and Rending Snarl. Those two had been the ones to come nearly to blows during the foot race, and neither had appreciated him butting in.
This wasn’t the only group competing. There were three more around the Outer Circle. So there was no guarantee that beating everybody here would get him a win. He’d have to push and go for as high a jump as he could manage.
Rending Snarl ran at the bar, tucking in his legs he cleared the bar that already hung past Eurik’s head. The man fell into the thick sack on the other side, so big it had to be shoved back into place by six people after every few landings.
One of the shamans gave Eurik a nod, he was up next. He jumped up and down, then ran at the bar. Not on a direct route, but a curving one that gave him a few extra seconds to build up the wind chiri that carried him over the bar.
***
Leraine held her breath as the bar moved, threatening to fall. Then it did, accompanied by groans and cheers as the Puma pounded the cushion. The rumors floating through the crowd told her his name was Rending Snarl, and he’d been a favorite to win this event. Had been, until Rock. Now he was out, and seeing how people were drifting in from the rest of the ring, this was the final competition.
Rending Snarl’s head snapped up in the direction of the two who had cleared the jump. One was Rock, the other someone from Wolf. She’d won the running part. The member of Puma leaped off the cushion and rushed at them, yelling . . . something.
People rose up; they could see what he intended by his expression, his hands raised up and readied to claw them. But the shamans could tell as well and they stepped in.
A rope snaked out from one, wrapping itself around Rending Snarl’s waist. The rope went taut, vibrating. Rending Snarl’s charge slowed down, but it didn’t stop. The shaman’s feet scraped over the ground as he leaned back, trying to use his weight, but even that wasn’t enough.
Rending Snarl finally noticed the rope, but instead of stopping he struck at it with his nails. The rope didn’t snap, but it was clearly frayed. Another rope jumped out, wrapping itself around the crazed Puma’s calf.
And he had to be crazed, it was obvious to all. Rending Snarl turned to the shamans trying to restrain him, only to falter as a third approached him chanting a revocation. With his connection to his spirit suppressed, he wasn’t much of a threat anymore. Relieved, Leraine sank back
down in her seat.
The shame will fall solely on Rending Snarl, then. Trying to attack fellow competitors, twice, even the shamans! Who could claim that it had been a transgression by Puma as a whole when he is obviously beyond reason. Still, this should not have happened in the first place.
Obviously, the shamans had figured that Rending Snarl would behave after being warned. They had been mistaken.
Leraine looked over the crowd once more. The sun was dipping below the Troll Mountains, but there was still enough light to see details. Details such as the divisions between not only between tribes, but within them. Groups of Truce Warriors, with their armored clothing, held themselves apart. Was it her imagination, or did some of them not look happy at Rending Snarl’s capture?
***
Eurik watched them take Rending Snarl away. Springstep stared at their fellow competitor as well, then shook her head and turned to Eurik. “Now the battle is between you and me.”
“Why do you say that?”
She gestured at the crowds. “The others have stopped. Haven’t you noticed everyone gathering here?”
Eurik looked around, and it wasn’t hard to spot it now that it had been pointed out to him. There had been a crowd before, but now people had squeezed themselves wherever there was space. He could nearly hear the wood groan under the weight. More crammed the lines below, and the stairs to the upper level were filled as well.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Springstep hummed. “What do you say we stop with the pegs. Have them raise the bar by a hand and decide this now.”
She won the race, but I think I threw a little farther than her. But several tossed their rock a lot more. Including Rending Snarl. And I don’t know how high the others jumped. Beating her here might not mean I win the event, but it would help.
He shook his head. He wasn’t here to win. The goal was to get his name out there in the hopes that someone knew his parents. But if winning helped with that . . . Fervent was almost certain to be in this crowd as well, but if he let that stop him then why was he here at all?
Springstep lifted her chin and sneered. “Very well. I—”
“That was not my answer,” Eurik said. “I actually agree. Let us settle it here and now.” While there’s still as large a crowd as possible.
She hesitated, then nodded. She waved over a shaman, who came over to them. “Yes, Rending Snarl has forfeited.” He sniffed. “He can’t step foot in Chappenuioc for a year so he wouldn’t be able to accept any prizes anyway.”
“Thank you, honored one. But that was not what we wished to talk about. This—”
“Rock.”
Springstep tossed her head. “Rock and I have agreed to a challenge. We would like you to raise the bar by a hand. And a hand again, if we both clear the jump.”
“Is that so?” The shaman stroked his beard with two fingers. He was the first Mochedan Eurik had ever seen with one. He himself didn’t need to shave at all. “I will confer.” He spun away and walked over to the shamans by the bar.
Springstep let out a long breath. She looked Eurik up and down. “Where are you from, Rock? It is a strange name. Not horse people. Have the shamans let a soulless compete?”
“Rock is not . . . the name I use when I am not with the People. I grew up on San. With the plant-people.”
“Plant-people? Then which spirit do you represent?”
“The world.”
“The world? That’s imposs—” Springstep frowned, then glanced at the jumping bar which was being raised by four pegs. “Obviously not. No human could hope to match me without aid from the spirits. Not here in Chappenuioc. Very well, Rock of the World. May the greatest spirit triumph.”
“May the greatest spirit triumph.”
Springstep was up first. As before, she mumbled with her eyes shut as she geared up for the attempt. The words turned to near-growls right as she opened her eyes again, and Eurik could swear her eyes flashed yellow right as Springstep began to run.
Much like Eurik himself, she took a curving path to build up a little more speed before she jumped. Springstep arced over the bar with her legs trailing, then came down and landed on her back on the cushion, which folded around her.
Eurik had to wait a while for Springstep to extricate herself and for the cushion to be moved back into place. He would have preferred a longer approach, but the starting position was fixed. Instead, he jumped in place to build up some wind chiri around him.
The shamans didn’t react to his antics; they’d gotten used to them. At their signal, he took off. The wind whipping past carried scattered shouting from the onlookers. Focusing it all in one moment of time, he expelled all the chiri within him and let it launch him into the air.
He tucked his legs in as far as he could as he reached the apex of his jump. I did it. Next round will—
Eurik felt the tug, at his feet, at his heart. Even over the crowd and his body hitting the cushion he could hear the bar hit the stone floor of Chappenuioc. Cheering turned to groaning, which quickly got drowned as others screamed in exultation as their favored champion had just secured her victory.
Eurik himself just lay there on the cushion. He wasn’t going to be winning this. He just hoped it would be enough for a spot on the podium. Not that it hadn’t been fun, but he’d entered this competition to get his name out there: his, and his parents’.
***
It took time for the shamans to tabulate the outcomes and figure out who had won the Three Games. Rather than waiting with her sisters and the rest, Leraine made her way down to Eurik. It wasn’t easy, the crowd had grown and many were on the move. It would have been easier to climb down the outside of the stairs rather than using the steps.
Eventually though, she reached Rock. He did justice to the name she’d given him. He was a solitary boulder in a flowing river of humanity. Nobody approached him to congratulate him; they were all here for someone else. Almost everyone.
“Rock,” she said, inclining her head. “You did well. Though some of those jumps looked a little awkward.”
He scratched the back of his head. “Yes. I had not practiced the feat beforehand. I did not think it necessary.” Rock shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “I still need much training.”
“More,” she corrected on reflex. “Never mind, much works as well. I’m surprised, though. I didn’t think arrogance was one of your failings. Stubborn, foolish, ignorant, yes. But not arrogant.”
Rock looked down at his feet. “Are you sure you didn’t forget anything there?”
“Also courageous, generous, and intelligent. Sometimes you’re intelligent,” Leraine added when Rock looked up at her.
He looked in the direction of a pavilion that had been set up. All the shamans had disappeared inside and its entrance had been closed so that nobody could see their deliberations. A contingent of guards made sure nobody got too close. Not that anybody would dare to.
Just like nobody would dare to attack another competitor in full view of the Great Spirits and everybody?
“Do you think I made it?”
“Hmm?”
Rock nodded at the pavilion. “Do you think I got into the top three? They’re the people who go onto the podium, right?”
“Yes. Those are the ones who will be named before the crowd. First place receives a golden statue, second place one of white gold, third gets a statue plated with silver. It’s the same prize as the other contests.”
Rock looked around. “But fewer people attend the outcome.”
Indeed, all around them the crowd flowed away to the Inner Circle or out of Chappenuioc proper, drawn to the sound of music and the smells of food and drink. What remained was perhaps half of those who had actually attended the Three Games. More than a few were escorting those who stood no chance to reach the podium so that they could drown their sorrows.
“Look on the bright side. Fervent may not be here either.”
; “I’m of two minds on that. I have no desire to defend a person I’ve never met against a charge that might actually be true. I don’t know. I don’t remember her. But even through her victim, or her family, I might learn a little more about my mother. Is it . . . strange to feel that way?”
Leraine let out a breath. “I don’t know. I never felt any need to learn much about my father. And that is the only one of my progenitors I don’t know much about.”
“Oh? Who was he?”
“A horse man. A wandering spellsword. Mother was taken with him, for a time. His name . . .” Leraine searched her memory. It had been over a decade since Mother had talked of him. Their affair hadn’t lasted long. He wasn’t happy with staying in one place for so long and she usually grew bored with men just as fast. “Betram, or Bertram.” She shrugged.
Rock tilted his head to the left a little. “And you were never curious? About what happened afterward? Does he even know you exist?”
“I have no idea. I don’t even know if he still lives. For all I know, he was with Griffenhart’s army. I think his family had land near the Glinster.” Again, a shrug. “We don’t consider the father as significant. Most of the time. Girls are often raised by mothers, aunts, or even uncles. Fathers take care of the boys, with the help of uncles. But what of you? Do the san have families?”
Rock shook his head. “No, not like humans do. They don’t need to have sex to procreate. I don’t think they can. The san have successors that they train. But each generation is close. I suppose you could consider them brothers, or sisters. San don’t have genders.”
Any further discussion was forestalled by the emergence of the shamans. Fifteen of them filed out and walked in a line onto the podium where one stepped forward. Up on the Outer Ring, someone rang a large gong three times to silence the last few talkers.
