Death Cloud: The Senturians of Terraunum Series (Book 2)

by R. J. Batla

  A sudden BOOM rocked the party, the burst of compressed air ruffling clothes, and blowing drinks and party favors off tables. Almost everyone had crouched into a fighting position, most drawing hidden weapons. Yup, definitely in a room full of fighters.

  The explosion came from the direction of the exit doors, and all heads craned that way. There, along a painted red line on the floor just before the doors sat a pair of shoes and nothing else. After a deafening moment of silence, two metallic clangs echoed when something hit the floor. It was the two ankle bracelets.

  Morgan shook her head. “Dumbass. Of course somebody had to test the limits and try to walk out the doors. Too bad. I guess that’s one less fighter.”

  “Oh, they’ll be replaced,” Corbman said. “Too much money involved to have an empty spot.”

  Well, I guess that’s what would happen if we broke the rules.

  The music played again and everyone turned back to their conversations like nothing had happened.

  I heard a slight scream and was worried some other poor soul had been zapped into oblivion. I turned and a girl was tumbling backwards, so I caught her so she wouldn’t hit the floor. Very pretty. I would say too pretty, actually; features too beautiful to be real. Her voice oozed honey. “Why thank you, my good sir! My, my, my, I can’t believe I was so clumsy. I do believe I need to thank you,” she said and kissed my cheek. It burned slightly, but she smiled and grazed her fingernail against my chin as I lifted her up. She turned on her heel and glided away, swaying back and forth.

  Corbman slapped me on my back, and the noise returned to the room. Shaking my head, I said, “What the hell was that? I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe...”

  “You got to watch out man, she is a Vixen. Capital V,” he said. “They’ve figured out how to, let’s just say, entice the opposite sex into doing anything they want them to. You got a small shot of it there. If she was really trying, it would have been much stronger.”

  “Stronger? Hell, I wanted to rip her clothes off right here in front of everyone, and I am not that kind of guy! If that was just a taste... I’ll need some help with that particular power.” Someone might or might not have coughed loudly – like maybe all the females in our group, and Leona had practically spit out her drink. Ignoring the series of glares I was getting, I said, “Corbman, I got a proposition for you.”

  “Shoot!”

  “So we’re both stuck here, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And we’re basically the only easterners within a thousand miles.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you trust most of the people here?”

  “Not even a little.”

  I raised my beer. “You watch my back, I watch yours?”

  He clinked glasses with me. “You got it, my man!” he said, slapping my back again. It was starting to hurt. We paused as a man slowly walked by, his posse in tow. Clearly a fighter, he eyed Corbman and me. He was slightly tanned and had what I assume would be handsome features, except for a scar from his right eye down to the left side of his mouth.

  While I had been talking with Corbman, everyone else on the team had eased away from us and began talking with different groups of people. Several seemed to be getting pretty friendly, everyone talking with a person of the opposite sex. Morgan was talking to an interesting-looking man who was playing with real fire in his hands.

  Royn’s voice chirped in our ears. I had forgot about the amplistones. “Wrap it up. You need to get some sleep, all of you; gather by the door in ten minutes. Jayton, you’ll be shown to your room.”

  “See you later, Corbman?”

  “You got it. I’ll make sure our rooms are adjacent.”

  “Oh, thanks. You have that kind of pull?”

  He grinned. “You don’t know the half of it!”

  Spotting Royn leaning against a bar talking to somebody I didn’t know, I sidled up beside him. “What are they all doing?”

  “Who?”

  “The rest of the crew.”

  “We need intel, Jay.”

  “Interesting way to do it.” I watched Leona out of the corner of my eye say goodbye to the man she was talking to. In a slightly friendlier way than I would have liked.

  “You’d be surprised what you can learn when people think you are interested in them,” Royn said, as everyone else slowly filtered toward the exit.

  As I arrived at the door, a man in a red suit suddenly appeared. “Jayton Baird, this way to your room.” We followed him down several flights of stairs to room number seven. “This will be your accommodations for now. Good luck in the tournament.” With a bow, the man sauntered away.

  We walked in to a simple room – a bed, a couch, a bathroom with shower, a bookshelf, and not much else. “Gonna be a tight squeeze,” Anton said as we piled inside.

  We spent the next hours strategizing. You know, since I had to fight tomorrow. Eventually, as there was clearly not enough room for everyone to stay here, Royn called it a night and everyone exited to head back to the Dew Drop Inn – which Hank owned and used as a cover for his various Ranger activities.

  Everyone else left until Hank was the last one. “Jayton,” he said, “what are you doing here?”

  Taken aback, I asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Are you here for money?”

  “No.”

  “Glory?”

  “No.”

  “Power?”

  “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “To get the Darkstone. To stop Malstrak.”

  “Why?”

  “Because fewer people will get hurt.”

  “Can you win?”

  “I think so, yeah.”

  “Will it save lives?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Hank...”

  “So you are fighting for those who either cannot or who are not as capable as you?” Hank asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you must fight your hardest and fight to win. Show mercy where you can, but win the war. That’s a just war. The Creator has no laws against such a fight.”

  Deep thoughts, and they kinda hit home. “Thanks, Hank.”

  He nodded and left me alone. I quickly got ready for bed and slept. I always performed better on a good night’s sleep.

  At midnight I awoke, in a cold sweat.

  Today. The tournament started today.

  I will save lives today.

  I rolled over and went back to sleep.

  Chapter 4 – Jayton Baird

  “EXCUSE ME, SIR. JAYTON, sir?” a voice said from somewhere around me. Still sleeping, go away.

  “Pardon, sir, but you must get up.” Why won’t they leave me alone? Sleeping!

  “JAYTON BAIRD, YOU GET UP THIS MINUTE!”

  I snorted awake and managed to throw the covers off and sit upright. I wiped drool off my chin. “I’m up, I’m up! Geez, Leona, you didn’t have to yell!”

  Blinking and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I was finally able to see. Light came from the glowstones on the walls, revealing the neat little room, painted black and white. Maybe twenty-foot square, it was bigger than my room back home.

  Leona, bright eyed and gorgeous, her changeable armor gleaming, stood in the doorway. Looking well rested, she smiled, holding up a bag. “Brought you breakfast! Kolaches, donuts, and sausage. It was delicious when it was hot, so hopefully it’s still good cold.” She said over her shoulder, “Come on in, Mogie, let’s get this going.”

  Mogie stepped around the corner. She was about Leona’s height and sported a purple Mohawk. Her wide, flat face broke into a smile. “Mister Jay, I’m sorry. I could not wake you, but Miss Leona was more...aggressive.”

  “Ha. I heard,” I replied. “Hi, Mogie.”

  Her family helped maintain the Dew Drop for Hank. Her and her family had powers that made the work easier. Mogie’s Quantum power allowed her to manipulate clothing and hair, while the others in her family had Quantum powers that aided in cooking, cleaning, and ot
her skills around the hotel. And they all had that purple hair.

  And I was stuck here unable to enjoy said cooking and the comforts at the Dew Drop. Ugh.

  “Tell us when you’re done, Jay. Royn wants to talk more strategy while you eat,” Leona said with a smile and wave. “Your first fight starts at one. Bye!”

  She threw me the bag of food, which did smell heavenly, but I’d suddenly lost my appetite with mention of the fight.

  Damnit.

  “Mr. Jay, Mr. Hank tells me you have your own armor suit you wear under your clothes, but that you also need a signature look. And fake armor over that to maintain an illusion...or some such.” She threw me some red clothes and leather armor. “I’ll turn my back, put that on, and we’ll get started. I guessed at your size, and I’m usually pretty good, but it’ll need some adjustment. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

  I obliged and donned the exquisite fabric. It caressed my skin, even through the scale armor. I’d never worn silk, but I imagined this was what it felt like. It was soft, it breathed, yet it was warm. “What...what is this stuff?”

  “Angorate hair.”

  “Angorate hair? How d'you get it?” The massive, long-haired goat-like creatures were supposed to be extremely rare, and even more difficult to work with, let alone be convinced to give up their hair!

  Mogie turned around and smiled. “My cousin. Great with animals. It’s the best fabric in the world. Extremely durable, repeals stains, and also protects as well as light chain mail. Here, let me help you with the outer shell.”

  She slipped a metal-studded red leather jacket and pants on me. It was much lighter than I expected. “Something else exotic?”

  She smiled again. “Angorate hair and iron lizard scales. Light, durable, and flexible. Now hold still.”

  She squinted her eyes. Her arms and hands were instantly enveloped in a deep purple haze. “Arms and legs out, please.”

  I obliged again and she went to work. Her hands moved at a frantic pace, tightening and loosening the clothes without ever touching it. A snip here, a tuck there – even the leather was no match for Mogie’s powers. “There. How’s it feel?”

  I moved around, swinging my arms and legs. “It feels like I’m not wearing anything at all.”

  She smiled. “Then I’m almost done.” She spun me around to face her. “Now, hold very still.” Purple energy flashed again. She made motions in the air and slammed her hands into my chest, heat flaring up then dying away. She turned me toward a mirror that hadn’t been there before. “What do you think?”

  The reflection in the mirror was nothing but badass. The red leather and clothes fit me perfectly. Right in the center of my chest was a circular emblem of a dragon blowing fire. “This...this is badass! Thank you!”

  She took a deep bow. “The pleasure is mine, Mr. Jay. I’ll send the others in on my way out.”

  As she stepped over the threshold, she stopped and turned back around. “Mr. Jay?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  She smiled and bowed slightly again. “Good luck, Mr. Jay. We will be rooting for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, returning the bow.

  Huh. Interesting.

  I heard the crew before I saw them. “Now, I’m not complaining, Royn,” Morgan said, “but the whole trip you’ve been concerned with secrecy, and we haven’t been allowed to...be ourselves and dress normally. Why the change?” She rounded the corner, dressed like the first time I’d met her – barefoot, a tight pair of shorts, and bright red sports-bra-looking thing that showed off her midriff. Her staff stuck out over her shoulder where the red fire symbols were tattooed. Her hair had grown long on the trip to the Bowl, but she’d probably had one of Mogie’s relatives fix it so it was short and spikey – just how she liked it.

  Royn shrugged. “No need now. There are enough pure or mixed races here in the Bowl that there’s simply no need to hide your skin.”

  “What do you mean?” Sonora said, the light green skin of the Aeren showing everywhere including the tornado tattoo between her eyes. Short but heavier muscled, her outfit looked a lot like Morgan’s except for the color.

  “Remember we’ve been banishing people for years,” Celeste said, the Tempus back in her pirate outfit, complete with bandanna holding her dreadlocks out of her eyes. “Some justified, others not. Some left for adventure, some to get out of a bad situation, others because...they were not Pure. All that to say the West Side is more diverse, so we won’t actually stand out as much as we’d anticipated. At least here at the Bowl.”

  I guess it made sense that people would hold grudges or at least resentment for generations. I mean, from what we’d seen of the West Side, they were pretty much as well off as us on the East, though with a different political and leadership structure. But if nothing changed with people throughout history, it would be hard to forgive or let old hurts go out to pasture.

  “Remember what Corbman said,” Euless noted, back in his orange and yellow flowing robes. “We don’t have to hide now, but we must still be on our guard. We don’t look out of place, but if we’re revealed as Easterners, it will make things more difficult for us and for Jay.”

  “Well said, Euless,” Royn said.

  “Do you think the public would actually come after us if they found out about us, Hank?”

  The Ranger thought for a minute, stroking his chin. “Depends how much money you’re making them. Either way, it’d be easier if the secret stayed safe. It wouldn’t totally derail us.”

  Well, that’s better than it was closer to the Break Pass – their hatred was ripe for the picking.

  Leona walking toward me shifted my attention. “Nice outfit, Jay. Mogie did a great job with the emblem!” Leona said, stepping up to me and feeling the leather and cloth. While making my heartbeat tick up.

  “So this is interesting and all, but are we going to strategize with Jay or not?” Katy said, hands on her hips and tapping her foot, talking fast as usual.

  “Right. Okay, like we were saying last night...”

  Royn sent Celeste, Morgan, Euless, Anton, and Katy up to watch the tournament and scout out potential future opponents. They said good luck to me and left the room, Anton putting his hand on Katy’s shoulder as they left. Leona, Troup, Hank, Royn, and I spent the next hour going over strategy.

  Before noon, Mogie brought in more food – apparently Hank didn’t trust the cooks at the Bowl to not poison us. We were pretty sure very few people knew we were from the East Side, but better to be safe than sorry.

  The whole time I got more and more nervous.

  “Equipment check, Jayton,” Royn said. “Returning Sword?”

  “Check,” I replied, patting the pommel.

  “Are we going to use it?” Royn asked.

  I repeated what he’d been drilling into my head. “Not unless absolutely necessary. It’s too valuable a weapon to show too early, if at all, to future enemies.”

  He nodded. “Goggles?”

  I touched them lightly on top of my head. “Check. They’ll be used to hide the Ignis Oculus from everyone, and I will put them on before every match. I can only flash it or the lenses burn out and become useless.”

  “Shield?”

  I tapped the leather wrist guard with the seven different colored stones on my left wrist. “Arm guard. Can use at any time with any element or power.”

  “Energy storage device and status?”

  I tapped the rope-like bracelet on my right arm. “Bracelet still fully charged thanks to the old man that flew us to the Bowl.”

  “Scale Armor?”

  “I’m wearing it; I never take it off. It’s invisible and adds a layer of protection from blades, though blunt force still gets through.”

  Royn nodded. “You’ve got this, Jayton. Trust yourself and your training.”

  I nodded, but my stomach still had butterflies.

  Chapter 5 – Jayton Baird

  EVERYONE HAD BEEN KICKED out of my room thirty minutes
ago, with lots of “goodbyes,” “good lucks,” and “you got this”.

  The waiting is the hardest part.

  Deep breath in. Hold. Long exhale. I popped my neck. Rolled my shoulders. “Sir, are you ready?” the guard asked, wearing a full suit of armor, with a spear in his hand, as he poked his head in my room. I nodded, and he swung the door wide for me. I stepped out into the hallway, boots clicking against the marble floor as I strode across it, the guard and his partner falling in behind me on either side as I passed.

  As I walked by the room next to me, Corbman stuck his multicolored face out and said, “Hey, newbie! A little advice?” I nodded and he smiled. “Give ‘em a show. They like that; it makes them more money and gives them a reason to root for you. But don’t lose either. Now go melt his face off!” The exclamation was followed by a quick, hard slap on the back.

  I nodded again and continued my walk with a slight smile on my face.

  I was headed to my first fight. My first chance to defend freedom from Malstrak. No pressure or nerves at all – yeah, right. I passed the doors of others preparing for their own fights, some closed with their name on the outside.

  I wondered how they were getting ready. Saying their prayers? Sharpening their weapons? Getting right with whatever Maker they believed in – or as right as they could when one goes to fight to the death. This may or may not be their last moments on Terraunum.

  I was confident I could win.

  I was better and more powerful than my first-round opponent, according to our scouting.