He set the letter on top of a half-empty to-go box — Jackson guessed it had once been a noodle dish however many days ago it had been purchased — and reached for his holo-watch. A couple of quick taps brought up the Bronze League site. Briggs navigated to Tyle’s region and a list of tamers appeared. Jackson scanned it — a little hard to do since he was standing behind Briggs — and found himself and Fiona on the list.
“I didn’t know you could look this up!” Jackson said.
“Not just anybody can,” Briggs replied. “Only someone with an official DBL login can get in, but someone always leaks it to the media sooner or later. Wouldn’t be surprised if this was all common knowledge tomorrow.” He tapped on Fiona’s name. A picture of the youngest Sato, her Djinn Rebel, a bio, and a few stats appeared. Jackson navigated around to stand next to Briggs so he could read it.
Briggs swore. “I should have guessed.”
“What is it?” Jackson asked, completely lost.
Briggs waved his hand and a section of Fiona’s page zoomed in. One line specifically stood out:
SPONSOR — VANCE MCALLISTER
“Ha! I was right!” Jackson said. “I knew it had to be McAllister.”
What Jackson didn’t expect was Briggs’s reaction. The old tamer clenched his teeth and stared at the screen with a fervor Jackson rarely saw in the man, one that only came out when Briggs let it slip in a moment of heated competition — a brief glimpse of the champion he used to be.
“Not a fan, I take it?” Jackson said. “You know, if you take me on as a mentee, we can take him and Fiona down together.”
The fierce competitor faded, leaving the bitter man in its place once more as Briggs shook his head. “I told you before. You had your shot and you made your choice.”
“Look, I’m not even asking for your help!” Jackson insisted. “I just came here to ask you where I could find another solid Djinn. I’m required to have two to compete, and —.”
“I’m not sure if you know this, but what you just described could be considered help.”
“I have enough money to buy another ring,” Jackson said, ignoring Briggs’s comment, “but I can’t afford a registered Djinn from Sato’s.”
Briggs gestured through his cracked dirty office window to the hills north of the warehouse and fields. “Start walking. You won’t get far before you trip up on a Magglecaw or something.”
Jackson responded with a hard, frustrated stare. “You know I can’t win in the Bronze League with a Magglecaw.”
Briggs raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Not with that attitude you sure can’t.”
Arguing with Briggs was like arguing with a drunk, cynical version of his grandma, except he didn’t even have the advantage of being blood kin to the man. He knew Briggs was testing him, and so far he’d mostly failed. Then Jackson recalled the look from Briggs when he’d seen Vance McAllister’s name and an idea came to him.
“Whatever,” he said. “If you want me to get beat by Fiona again, then don’t help. I’m sure Vance will love to know he got another one over you.”
Briggs scoffed and swatted at Asena, who’d started chewing on one of his table legs out of boredom. “Nice play, but it won’t work.”
“Oh, come on!” Jackson said. Briggs had called his bluff right away and he didn’t have any cards left to play. “Fiona knows I used to train with you. Don’t you think she’ll mention it to Vance? You know he’s going to want to see how good I am after spending time working with you.”
“Nope.”
Briggs made a show of cleaning a dirty plate off the table before Asena could reach it. She’d put her front paws up on the table, searching for the half-rotten food, and Jackson swatted her down.
“Don’t you want to even the score?” Jackson pressed, picking up another dirty plate of the table. He followed Briggs to the sink and tossed the half-eaten plate of food into it — only he’d released his hand just a bit too high up, and the plate shattered on top of the plate Briggs had just placed in it. “Sorry.”
Briggs bit his lip in what was probably irritation at his only plate being broken.
“I’ll get you a new one,” Jackson said, ignoring the man’s frown. “This could be your chance. I want to beat Fiona more than anything, and you want to prove to Vance you’re not finished. It’s the perfect team!”
“Jackson.” Briggs seemed to be giving Jackson his full attention for the first time since he’d entered the office. And Briggs never called him by his first name — except for when he was trying to teach Jackson something.
“I’m. Out. Of. The. Game.”
Jackson stared right back. “I saw that look in your eyes. You can lie to yourself all you want, but I’m not buying it. Come on, Briggs — one last shot, you and me together!”
Briggs rolled his eyes. “Stop serving up those damn cheeseballs, kid.”
“Yeah, they’re cheesy, but they worked a little bit, didn’t they?” Jackson said. He grinned, completely undeterred by Briggs’s pessimism.
The corner of Cassius Briggs’s mouth lifted the tiniest fraction.
“You’re a slimy little bastard, you know that? You’re selfish, transparent, and stupid — don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise,” Briggs said with an annoyed sigh. “But you’re also lucky.”
“Lucky?” Jackson said. He didn’t ever feel particularly lucky about always having to claw his way anywhere he went.
“That’s right, you’re lucky. You’re lucky that I want to beat Vance McAllister bad enough to put up with you again.”
CHAPTER 7
“Wild Djinn taming ain’t no walk in the park.” A bedraggled cigar that looked as though it had been chewed on for as long as Jackson had been alive hung from Cassius Briggs’s mouth. He spread out an old-fashioned paper map on the table and pinned down the corners with a couple of mugs of stale coffee. Next to Jackson, Kay shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying not to look at the messy parts of the office. Unfortunately for her anxiety, there really wasn’t an un-messy part to focus her attention on except for the map.
Jackson leaned in and recognized several features of the Granite region, finding Tyle at the bottom of the map. Briggs traced his finger over the map and tapped his fingers on several forests and mountain ranges.
“There’s a reason Djinn breeders make so much money,” he continued, shifting his cigar. “Aside from the fact you can breed in the traits you want, there’s not many ranch-bred Djinn that’ll try to tear your guts out or stomp your body into a pulp. Wild ones are different.”
Kay looked at Jackson with wide eyes. “You sure you can’t take out a loan or something?”
Before Jackson could tell her he’d already checked with the banks and couldn’t get a line of credit, Briggs cut in.
“Jackson doesn’t want a ranch-bred Djinn. Sure, they might look better on a piece of paper, but there’s something that happens to a Djinn when it’s been taken out of the wild for five, ten, twenty generations. Part of ’em becomes domesticated. No, what you want is something with piss and vinegar still running in its bloodlines.”
“But…isn’t the goal to domesticate the Djinn anyway?” Jackson said. He thought back to his first few weeks with Asena. She’d been almost feral from her extended stasis inside the Djinn ring. While Jackson had never felt in danger, there’d definitely been a rough patch before the two saw eye to eye.
Briggs laughed. “Domesticate? Taming ain’t domesticating, kid.”
He unbuttoned his dirty shirt and pulled it back to show a series of long, pale scars across his dark chest. “See those? Wanna know where they came from?”
“Let me guess,” Kay said. “Some Djinn that tried to kill you while you were capturing it?”
“Not just any Djinn.”
He nodded over to Midnight who was lying on a collapsed couch in one corner of the office. The Hurricanther’s head perked up when he saw Briggs show Jackson and Kay his scars.
“Midnight did that to you?” Jackson whispe
red. He stared in horror at the gnarly scars and back at the supple, powerful creature whose belly he’d been rubbing a half hour before. Midnight gave a couple of sleepy blinks and laid back down, tail twitching as he worked on his nap.
Briggs nodded. “Things didn’t exactly go as planned. I tracked Midnight across the jungles of Gularoon for three days before I finally got close enough to attempt to Bond him to the Djinn ring. He was in his Basic form back then, but I’m still lucky he didn’t tear me to shreds.”
Jackson suddenly felt a number of reservations about going off into the wilderness to wrestle with some untamed Djinn in the hopes he could get it into the Djinn ring before it mauled him to death. He also realized he had only the vaguest ideas of how the actual process of taming a Djinn happened. Briggs, it seemed, noticed his sudden hesitancy.
“What’s the matter? If you’re not up for it, you can always go persuade a cute little Bobbity to be your friend.”
Jackson scowled. “Ha. Ha. I’m not scared. Just…thinking about things.”
“Where exactly do you have in mind if none of the Djinn around here are good enough?” Kay asked. “It’s not like Jackson can just walk onto one of the preserves and find himself a rare Djinn.”
“You let me take care of that,” Briggs replied with a smirk. “I’ve still got a few connections around the business — I can get us into a pretty sweet location.”
Jackson felt a burst of excitement — most Djinn parks and preserves cost thousands upon thousands of dollars to get into, those that weren’t limited to tags drawn in a lottery, anyway. Kay, he noticed, seemed less sure.
“Is this legal?” she asked. “And by us, I’m assuming you mean you and Jackson? The last thing I want is to wander around the forest waiting for one of you to get killed.”
“Hey!” Jackson said. “Asena won’t let anything happen to us! Have a little faith, why don’t you?”
Asena barked, as if backing up her tamer.
“That’s exactly why you’ve got to come, young lady,” Briggs said. “You’re one of the best damn Djinn medics I’ve seen.”
“Really?” Kay said, a dry, unbelieving tone in her voice. “One of the best?”
“I was trying to flatter you, but if you want to be that way, fine. You’re the only one I know who can make the trip with us tomorrow,” Briggs clarified. “If things get hairy out there, we’re going to need your help. And there’s a good chance things will get a little hairy.”
Jackson didn’t give Kay the chance to say no.
“Jackson, go and buy a Djinn taming ring first thing after leaving, and then get home and start packing your bags.”
“Tell me again what it is you’re doing?” Jane asked Jackson while he continued stuffing clothes and a random assortment of snacks into his backpack. “It just seems like there’s got to be another way to find a nice Djinn besides going on a safari expedition.”
“I don’t want a nice Djinn,” Jackson said. He’d explained things to Jane a half-dozen times but she just wasn’t getting it. To her credit, at least she hadn’t told him no flat-out. That in itself was a huge step in their relationship.
“Look, Briggs says wild Djinn are better than ones bred in captivity and ranch-raised. Besides, we don’t have the money for me to buy a registered, domestic Djinn — they start at almost ten thousand suns.”
“And don’t you work for one of the most renowned Djinn breeders out there?” Jane asked.
“The Satos have already done so much,” Jackson said. “And I already got Asena from mom. I guess I want to try and do this on my own.”
Jane folded her arms and Jackson could tell she was struggling to keep her old worrisome self from busting out. “This doesn’t seem like the safest way to go about things, is all I’m saying.”
Jackson looked up just in time to see Jane brush away a tear from one eye. He knew how hard this must be for her — his mother had disappeared in a plane crash while going on a search for a rare Djinn. To Jane, it had to have felt a little bit like the same scene was playing out again with her grandson.
“I promise we’ll be safe,” Jackson said. “And we’ll only be gone a couple of days. People do this all the time, and Briggs has been on a ton of taming expeditions.”
Jackson thought it was best not to mention the gruesome scars his mentor had acquired on one such expedition. Jane still looked worried, though, so Jackson wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight.
“If I don’t get a second Djinn, I’m ineligible for training camp,” he said. “Besides, Asena will take care of me, right, girl?”
Asena, sitting on Jackson’s bed next to his crammed backpack, lifted her head and wagged her tail. The action brought a smile out of Jane. Before the conversation could continue, however, a blast rang out from the street below, followed by forlorn honking that sounded like a dying trumpet.
“That must be Briggs!” Jackson said. He grabbed the backpack off the bed and rushed downstairs, Asena at his heels. Excited to get going, he flew out the door before even putting on his boots.
The truck in the driveway stopped him dead in his tracks. He’d forgotten just how banged-up the thing looked.
Briggs’s pickup had probably once been a beautiful shade of forest green, but it was so spotted with rust and sun marks that it looked like a derelict attempt at camouflage. The pitted exhaust pipe trailing up one side of the cab sputtered and spat smoke out into the clear, cool spring morning. Jackson was surprised it had made it from the warehouse to his house and didn’t have much faith in reaching the preserve.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Jackson tore his eyes away from the truck at the sound of Kay’s voice. She must have pulled up on her bike while he was eyeing the vehicle and now stood with her Fenkit Djinn, Sunshine, on her shoulder, her duffel bag on her bike handles, and an aghast expression on her face. As if in answer, Briggs hopped out of the truck and slammed the door. It sounded like a bag of tin cans being smashed with a hammer. Jackson noted that he left the vehicle idling.
“Are you sure that’s legal?” Jackson asked.
“What, you don’t remember my trusty pickup?”
“I was hoping you had a more reliable vehicle in addition to the trusty pickup,” Kay said before Jackson could answer.
“Me and this old gal have been through a lot together,” Briggs said. He gave the truck a healthy smack on its hood, and Jackson saw a handful of rust flakes float down from the wheel well onto the road. “I just had the license renewed and the emissions checked!”
“That thing passed an emissions test?” asked Kay.
“Surprised?”
“Yes!” Kay said, her eyes wide. “I’m not going anywhere in that death trap.”
“Oh come on, Kay,” Jackson took her duffel bag and tossed both his and hers into the bed of the truck. “It’ll be an adventure! How many people can say they’ve actually ridden in a diesel truck? It’s like riding in a piece of history!”
“It’s a piece of something, all right,” Kay muttered low enough Briggs wouldn’t hear.
“Ah…hello?” Jane appeared on the doorstep leading into ther building, looking almost as petrified as Kay. She glanced around as if making sure none of the neighbors in their complex were watching.
“Hello!” Briggs’s demeanor changed at once. He limped up to the front steps and offered a hand to Jackson’s grandma. “It’s good to meet you, madam. The name’s Cassius Briggs.”
“Ah…yes,” Jane said while Briggs shook her slack hand. “I’ve — I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Jackson.”
“I hope it was all good!” Briggs said. His cheery disposition bewildered Jackson, who’d thought Briggs incapable of any feeling beyond that of a surly Gruffoat. “I just want you to know that your grandson will be in good hands with me, madam.”
“I…I can see that.” Jane hadn’t taken her eyes off of the pickup truck. “Where was it you said you were going again?”
“Rocky Point Nati
onal Preserve,” Briggs said. “It’s about a fifteen hour drive altogether, but when you’re riding in old Bess, it’ll feel like a lot less than that.”
“Old Bess — is that the name of your, uh… truck, Mr. Briggs?”
“Please, call me Cassius.”
The conversation had gone about as far as Jackson wanted it to go, on both sides. He stepped between Briggs and his grandma and wrapped his arms around Jane.
“Love you, bye!” he said. After giving Jane a quick peck on the cheek, Jackson put his arm around Briggs’s neck and steered him back toward the pickup.
“What’s the rush?” Briggs asked. “Your grandma and I were just getting acquainted.”
“No time for small talk — haha!” Jackson forced a laugh and turned his attention to Kay.
“I. Am. Not. Riding in that thing.”
Jackson let out another strained laugh and gently took Kay by the elbow, leading her toward the passenger side of the smoking truck. “I’m sure it’s way better inside…”
“Guess what, Jackson? It’s not better inside.”
“Hey, I can hear you, you know,” Briggs grumbled from the driver’s seat.
Kay didn’t seem to care, and to be fair, she had a point. The inside of the truck featured a cracked dashboard battered, dirty leather seat covers, and a complete lack of ventilation, let alone air conditioning. As a result they rode with the windows down; three grown people shoved into the front seat of a truck that hadn’t been able to comfortably fit anyone in probably two decades.
“You can always sit in the back with Asena,” Jackson offered.
True to her nature, Jackson’s Djinn refused to go into stasis within the Djinn ring for the trip. Her tongue hung out and a slather of saliva dripped onto the seat in the half cab behind them, but Briggs didn’t seem to mind. Nor did Sunshine, who was relegated to a small corner of the backseat, but he was small enough and never seemed to mind being in close quarters with Asena. Kay’s nose wrinkled, but whether it was from the smell of Asena, Briggs, Jackson, or the overall grunge of the pickup, Jackson didn’t know.
Rivals Page 5
