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Carnival of the Soul

Page 12

by Cebelius


  Yuri chuckled and said, "You look silly, but that is because you are too short for a minotaur."

  Mila added, "I do not find your new face appealing, but the smile looks natural enough, Terry. Trust Prada. She knows what she is doing."

  He nodded, and with a final glance around, his eyes settled on Isthil.

  I should talk to her one-on-one later, figure out what to do with her, he thought as he walked past, and the group formed up behind him.

  'Did you have something in mind?' Prada mentally asked him.

  No, but she mentioned she just wanted me to break her bond with Thomas. Well, mission accomplished. What's she still here for?

  'A fair question to ask. We shall see. Later. For now, focus on what is in front of you.'

  Terry grinned and made his way, following the directions left for him by the minotaur who had delivered the message earlier in the day.

  As he passed, he noticed that more than a few of the tauren who saw him dropped what they were doing to come along, and by the time he arrived at the open space described to him, there was a sizable crowd following.

  They were at the very edge of the sea of tents, and the pit didn't look anything like what he had expected.

  Given this was a carnival and pit fights were part of the normal course of things, he'd expected some bleachers, but this pit looked like nothing so much as a quickly dug hole in the earth. It was about twenty feet in diameter and maybe ten feet deep, and the dirt had been piled high all around and packed down, serving as a perch for those on hand to watch. Long poles anchored and angled away from the pit supported the corners of a vast tarp. Interspersed with these were poles that came together at a wooden ring some thirty feet above the center to hold the impromptu roof higher than the edges to shed water.

  There was already a fair-sized crowd that only grew as the people Terry pulled in filed out around him and flowed up onto the berm, finding places, shaking hands. The murmur of conversation picked up as people saw him.

  Terry also noticed that on the far side of the berm there was actually a small makeshift scaffold that sat several well-dressed tauren who — given the deference they were paid — were probably herd leadership. He recognized Yesun Tege of the Temujin, and Laila Rise of the Big Sky herds. Graven Morrow was not present, but several others Terry didn't recognize were. Unlike most of those around them, the leaders did not seem to be taking place in the banter or betting, and their eyes were all fixed on him.

  Wedged into the ground at five points around the pit were large spikes ending in metal cages filled with burning wood to light the pit and surrounding area.

  Standing near the pit on their side were Law, his father, and a hulking figure dressed in animal hides and hung with bone trinkets that Terry had never seen before. The three had been conversing, but stopped and turned as Terry approached.

  The unknown man was a tiger kin, but the sabers depending from his jaw were something new. By now though, it would have taken a lot to surprise Terry, so he just took it in stride as he approached and said, "I'm here. What's the procedure for this?"

  Behind him, he could hear a low, urgent conversation going on between Yuri and Mila, but he couldn't make out the words.

  The tiger man glanced past him, smiled slightly, then focused on Terry again as he said, "I have been retained to ensure that the fight proceeds without interference. My name is Vlad. Some call me The Dreamer."

  "You're the shaman for Yuri's tribe?" Terry asked as the name clicked. The saber-tooth nodded once, and said, "Is this a problem?"

  Terry turned as he said, "I don't know."

  He looked to Yuri and asked, "Is it?"

  He could see at a glance that Yuri was barely restraining himself. His ears were flat against his skull and his tail was lashing violently behind him as he stared at Vlad.

  Terry said, "Say the word, Yuri. I'm with you come hell or high water."

  At last, Yuri's eyes shifted to Terry, who met his gaze and nodded, once. If Yuri said 'go,' Terry was ready and willing to fight.

  "No. It is no problem. A shaman is often called upon for duty of this sort," Yuri said. "Our business is a separate matter."

  "Judicious."

  Vlad's tone was mild, and Terry turned back to see the saber-tooth was staring at him with piercing blue eyes that looked out of place to him, given both Yuri and Mila had green eyes. Vlad was also twice as thick as the other tiger-kin. Everything about him was more primitive ... more powerful. The impression was impossible to miss, or ignore.

  "The rules for this contest are simple," Vlad said. "No weapons, no outside interference of any kind. Since you have already agreed to these terms, I presume there is no problem?"

  "No problem," Terry said, then raised his chin toward the pit as he looked at Brahma and asked, "How'd you find a place on such short notice?"

  "Vlad sought me out," Brahma admitted. "He told me that the spirits had answered our needs, and led us here."

  "That simple, huh?"

  Terry was frankly suspicious as he glanced back to the shaman, who was still gazing steadily at him with no discernible expression. His tail was curled and settled in what he'd come to recognize as a neutral position, and his ears were up and forward. Attentive, but not alarmed.

  "I have been digging this pit out personally for the last twenty-eight days, in preparation for this fight," Vlad said.

  Terry's eyes narrowed and he glanced at the pit again, abruptly wary.

  "What's the matter?" Law asked, folding his arms across his thick chest. "You brought us here, Boss. Are your fingers freezing? Do you feel destiny's hand?"

  "I am prepared to apologize to you in front of everyone," Terry said quietly. "I should not have taken advantage of you the way I did."

  The minotaur sneered and said, "You think that would be good enough? There is only one apology I will accept."

  He pointed toward the pit, his eyes never leaving Terry's.

  To his surprise, Laina stepped up next to him and asked, "Are you sure?"

  She tossed a small sack that landed on the ground a few feet from the young minotaur. Gold spilled from the open mouth.

  "It's my fault," she said. "I could have stopped him, and I didn't. I'll pay."

  Brahma's eyes widened as he saw the gold. Terry knew enough to know just what was on offer. It was typical for a common laborer to earn between three and five copper tokens for a full day of work. Ten copper tokens could be exchanged for a silver dime. A hundred dimes equaled one golden quarter, four of which made a gold crown. Presuming a premium wage of five tokens a day, and that living cost nothing at all, it would still take a laborer over half a year to earn even one golden quarter.

  What Laina was offering looked to be worth at least ten years of hard work.

  "Laina-"

  "Shush, Boss. This is between me and him."

  Laina looked steadily at Law, but the burly young minotaur glared back with an expression of frustrated rage as he ground out, "You can buy a lot with gold, but not pride. I'm here for that. Keep your money. I don't want it."

  He glanced away, his eyes closing as he shook his head, but as Laina stepped forward to collect the gold he crouched and said something to her that caused her heavy head to lift sharply. The two stared at one another, then she nodded slowly and shoved the coins back into the pouch. She cinched it shut, turned, and strode away.

  Terry looked after her, but she'd deliberately not come back by him and he had no opportunity to ask what had been said. Law said, "I'm waiting, Boss. Will you fight?"

  Frustrated, but at peace with what was about to happen, Terry nodded.

  "I will."

  "A space has been reserved for your company," Vlad said quietly, and indicated an area being kept clear by several minotaurs near the pit on the left side.

  "There are no formalities to observe. The fight will end when one or the other of you surrenders or cannot continue. When you are ready, enter the pit, and combat will begin."

  So
saying the saber-toothed shaman turned and walked away to sit cross-legged at the edge of the pit. He closed his eyes, put his hands on his knees, then became utterly still.

  Terry stepped forward and looked up at Law and said, "Regardless of what happens next, Law, I'm sorry for this. I've had time to think, and I shouldn't have done what I did to you. It was wrong."

  He held out a hand, and Law looked down at it. His ears flickered and his brow furrowed, but the anger left his expression. To Terry's great relief he reached out, took the proffered hand, and shook it. As their eyes met he said, "I accept your apology. I should not have said what I said about your wife. You understand that I cannot back away from this. My life is at stake. I must fight, and so must you."

  "I will. I just ... thank you. When we met earlier I thought you were just a punk kid. You apologized to Laina just now, didn't you."

  "Yes. My father and I had a long talk today. I can't take his advice, but that doesn't mean I didn't listen."

  "Maybe he was right," Terry said, smiling. "Maybe you are destined for greatness."

  "We're about to find out. I won't kill you if I can help it — but if you are as good as you think you are, I can make no promises," Law said, his expression hardening again as he turned and leapt into the pit.

  'He certainly seems confident,' Prada said in his mind. 'I admit I did not expect to see him apologize before you crush him.'

  That's the thing about people, Terry thought as he rolled his head and flexed his fists, looking down into the pit where Law had taken the other side and turned, waiting for him. Most of them aren't bad ... they just don't think past themselves. We're all here in this mess now because for all my big talk, I'm no different.

  Her thoughts had a sly feeling to them as she asked, 'Are you sure he isn't just doing it now because he knows you WILL crush him?'

  I like to think better of people than that.

  'I know. It is as Euryale so often says. You are too soft, Husband.'

  Taking one last short, sharp breath, Terry leapt into the pit, and his world exploded in a bright flash of pain.

  10

  Pit of the Dreamer

  Terry's feet hit the ground and he collapsed to his knees, unable even to scream. The pain had passed through him in a wave, and what it left behind felt like an empty husk.

  He blinked, trying to clear his head as he glanced around. While the pain had been abrupt and intense, it was also short-lived. Even the memory of it made him shiver as he took in the pit and its surroundings.

  Everyone was staring at him with the notable exception of Vlad the Dreamer, who had not moved or opened his eyes.

  "Tee!"

  Glancing up, he saw Shy on her feet and staring at him in dismay. As his eyes met hers, he abruptly realized that his bond with her was gone. Then his eyes crossed and he saw that Prada was gone.

  Oh shit.

  A quick look was enough to tell him that his wife had been stripped out of his body, and the empty feeling inside him made him sure that all his gifts were gone.

  As he stood, he saw Law staring at him with unabashed surprise, and the crowds all around the pit were standing or craning their necks for a better look.

  "Prada! Are you okay?" he called, looking around until he found her, a ruby blob fully four feet high that was even now morphing into what looked like a carbon copy of Shy. She stared down at him in consternation, then nodded and pointed.

  Turning, he faced Law again as the minotaur bellowed, "What treachery is this?"

  "No treachery," Terry said as he examined, then quickly re-tightened his wraps. "I was hiding, that's all. What you're looking at now is the real me."

  "What are you?" the big minotaur asked.

  Sighing, Terry looked at Law and shrugged as he said, "I'm a template."

  Law's eyes widened even further, then narrowed as he said, "So. The Dreamer was right. He said I would have no chance at greatness unless I fought in his pit. This must be what he meant."

  "If that's what he said, then yeah, probably."

  Terry rolled his shoulders and stretched. Then he glanced up at Law and smiled as he brought his guard up.

  Losing his bonds had hurt, but now he had what he'd wanted. He'd have to thank Vlad when this was over ... so long as his reveal as a template didn't cause too many problems ... which was vanishingly unlikely.

  It was also more than he could afford to think about. The odds had abruptly shifted. Terry was bigger, stronger, faster, and better than he had been when he'd arrived on Celestine. He was also facing a big fucking minotaur, and unlike Theseus in the old legend, he didn't have a sword to help him.

  "Template or not, I am owed, and you will pay," Law declared, then charged.

  The crowd roared, and Terry spread his hands. His first order of business was to find out what he could do. Until then he would take no risks. As Law came into range, he leapt to one side and then around, testing his footwork.

  He felt different, lighter. It was as though he'd been walking around with weighted clothes on and all of a sudden he was free of it. Yet he could tell that he was also paradoxically a bit slower than he had been. It was counter-intuitive, and he barely managed to avoid the charging minotaur, who spun adroitly on one hoof and swung at him with a long roundhouse that Terry ducked as he backpedaled, bearing the walls of the pit in mind as he moved to control the center out of long habit.

  Law stepped in swinging, and Terry began weaving, dodging as he watched Law's timing. For now, he didn't even try to strike, but kept his hands up and felt his new situation out.

  The minotaur abruptly bulled in, hands spread wide, and Terry instinctively crouched and leapt, his rising knee smashing Law's muzzle. Despite the solid hit and the blood that flew from the impact, Law didn't slow and wound up bear-hugging Terry, lifting him off his feet.

  He hadn't caught Terry's arms though, and he grabbed one of the minotaur's floppy ears and twisted, pulling up hard as he grabbed the opposite horn just where it turned up into a point and jerked down.

  Law bellowed as he let his head follow where Terry led, and his grip loosened. Terry set his feet on Law's thighs and shoved himself up as he kept up the pressure, and the minotaur twisted and fell onto his back with a heavy thump.

  Terry let the horns go and settled into a top mount as he began a ground and pound, slamming his fists down one after the other into Law's exposed face.

  He got several good shots in before Law wrapped an arm across Terry's middle and swept him off, then rolled away from him to come back to his feet.

  Oohkay, so what have we learned, T-Mack? Dude is strong, but again doesn't have much of a clue. He also doesn't seem to be taking much damage from my shots.

  Reminded that his supernatural strength was — for the moment — gone, he rolled to his feet and tested his balance, feet moving as he bounced and brandished his fists in a bit of easy shadow-boxing as he asked, "There's a reason they call me Boss, Law ... an' it ain't my dick."

  Law shook his head, and blood flew from his nostrils as he snorted.

  "Yeah maybe," the minotaur grunted. "But you hit like a girl."

  Terry laughed as he thought of Laina, then lifted his guard and dodged another looping roundhouse, followed by a haymaker. As Law's body extended, Terry loaded up and landed a sharp left hook, then a hard right jab to the liver before dancing away.

  What worked on Laina will work on this idiot too if I get the time. Same strategy. Move around, don't get hit, wear him down.

  Unlike Laina though, Law was playing for keeps and kept the pressure up, closing in with a series of long jabs that forced Terry back.

  He checked the walls, slipped a hard left and landed a right cross to the belly as he slipped away to the left, twisting to retake the center of the pit.

  Law swung around as he crouched and thrust, his horns coming up fast.

  Surprised by the move, Terry reflexively caught both horns with his hands and hopped, letting Law's force carry him up. He shoved away and
landed, rolled over his shoulder and back onto his feet in time to make a hard block with his forearm, deflecting Law's fist past his head. He spun with it as Law barreled past and with a short, chopping kick to the back of Law's knee, brought the big man down.

  As the minotaur hit his knees, Terry slipped an arm under the other man's long chin and locked his head into a textbook four-square choke.

  Law staggered to his feet, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the iron bar of Terry's arm, then he grunted, spun around, and started backpedaling.

  Without time to move, Terry was body-slammed into one of the walls and all the wind left him as dirt showered down over them both and the crowd roared. His grip loosened. Law grabbed his arm, broke his choke and hauled him around, then slammed a fist into the side of Terry's head that sent him spinning to the dirt.

  Ooohkay, that was a mistake.

  Terry was seeing stars as the crowd's cheering reached a near frenzy, and rolled aside purely out of reflex, feeling more than hearing the heavy thump of the hoof that came down where his chest had just been.

  He got to his feet, still shaking his head, and backpedaled, dodging on reflex. Law's timing was, thankfully, very simple. By the time his eyes cleared, he felt another wall at his back. There was nowhere to go and Law's fist was practically sounding a train whistle as it drove for his guts.

  Terry dropped to his back and more dirt showered over him as Law's fist slammed into the wall where he'd been. With one hand on the ground and the other on the wall, Terry curled up onto his shoulders in the corner and slammed his feet into Law's armpit, then rolled over his shoulder and away along the curve of the wall to escape.

  "Squirrelly little bastard, aren't you?" Law grunted as he turned, though Terry noted with some satisfaction that he was rolling his shoulder up to pat underneath, and knew that the minotaur had definitely felt that one.

  Terry didn't answer. Truth to tell he was still winded and dizzy. Being smashed into the wall had bruised his ribs. If it weren't for the additional muscle he'd packed on since arriving in Celestine, they'd have probably been broken. A minotaur's strength was no joke. He backed away with his guard up, watching as the minotaur let him have the space, and both men circled each other warily.

 

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