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

by R. J. Batla

  “Then why are you worried about my opponent? You should be worried about me. I won the fight.”

  I shrugged. “You had to change your point of impact mid-strike. No one would have blamed you for killing him; you were perfectly within the rules. Seems like it was an honorable thing to do. There’s precious little honor here, particularly in the ring.”

  “Are you on my side of the bracket?” he asked.

  “I am.”

  “Then why are you here? I’m the enemy at this point, remember? You could face me next. I don’t even know who you are.”

  “In the ring, maybe, but it doesn’t have to be that way outside of it. Why are you a slave?”

  Snorting like I insulted him, he said, “What kind of question is that? Because my mother was, and I was born to her, that’s why! My life was forfeit before it began. When my talents emerged, I was put into training – specifically for this. To win money for my masters.” He spat the last word with venom.

  “Why not escape? Seems like you’re strong enough.”

  With a hard chuckle, he said, “Don’t you think I’ve tried? Hundreds of times. There are always too many for me to fight my way through, and security has gotten tighter and tighter as I’ve gotten stronger. Plus, I make the master too much money – he’ll never let me go.”

  “What if I could find a way to free you? What would you do?”

  He laughed even harder. “No one can do that.”

  “What if I could?”

  “Then you would own me. I would do whatever you wanted.”

  I shook my head. “No, I mean free. F-R-E-E. You’d own yourself. You’d be free to do whatever you wanted. What would you do?”

  He busted out laughing again. “You got some balls, man. I can’t tell you what I would do. There’s no way it would happen. I’m a slave. Until something happens to change that, I have no reason to talk to you or anyone about freedom.”

  “If you say so. So where did the guard go?”

  Pecos eyed me suspiciously. “I would imagine there are people who would be happy with any scraps of food they could get.”

  Interesting. He’d found a sympathetic guard to pass food to others in need. “Indeed there probably are. Thanks for your time.”

  I turned to walk away.

  “Fighter?”

  I turned back toward him. “Yes?”

  “Good luck in the tournament,” he said, and he turned his back to me.

  “Same to you. If you need anything, my name is Jayton. Jayton Baird,” I said, turning away and not stopping this time. Troup and Celeste headed back with me, my mind troubled.

  Chapter 7 – Jayton Baird

  ROYN PULLED ANTON, Troup, Katy, Gilmer, Celeste, and Leona away to go grab some food and talk with the locals and, to use his words, gather intel. He was always going on about intel like it was the most important thing in the world.

  That left me, Euless, Josey, Morgan, and Sonora watching the fights. I tried to feign interest, but most of those we watched were a non-event – either over quickly or someone I wouldn’t face. The crowd didn’t care – I looked over the faces in the seats that surrounded the arena, each row in a perfect circle and situated slightly higher than the one before it, allowing everyone a good view of the action. The important people had their own private rooms on the second level. Above them were the cheaper seats, housing even more people.

  The announcer brought me out of my staring. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a surprise event for you. Due to the benevolence of the Lords of the West, the Uland fight that was scheduled for later in the day will take place now. Get ready for a show!”

  “Do they usually do that?” I asked.

  Euless shrugged. “Not usually. I bet one of the lords was busy at the original fight time and didn’t want to miss it.”

  With the announcement, a sudden flood of people made a mad dash back into the arena to find their seats. Sonora looked around at the madness. “Royn’s going to be pissed that he missed this fight. He wanted to see every match the Uland was in.”

  Euless laughed. “Does he not think we can fill everyone in?”

  Sonora laughed too. “You know him – if he didn’t see it with his own eyes, he has a hard time believing it. I think it’s all that teleporting – being able to be wherever you want at almost any time.”

  We all laughed, but Josey’s giggle died quickly as the Uland entered the arena to a great roar of applause. She shook her head. “He’s a monster. I don’t know if he has any humanity left in him at all. I heard that he never shows mercy, that he always kills his opponent if they don’t forfeit. And he has this darkness around him...” She did a full body shiver. “When he walked by at the Fighter’s Ball, I could feel it. It’s just...unnatural.”

  “If he kills everyone, why does anyone fight him?” Sonora asked, eyes locked on the huge creature in front of us. The Uland played to the crowd – waving, riling them up, punching the ground, and in general giving them a show.

  Morgan practically growled. “My, er, informant, one of your potential opponents, Jayton, told me the lords rig the fighters against the Uland in the first few rounds so that he only fights those who have no choice but to actually fight him — slaves, people with debts, enemies of the lords who they threaten with the lives of their families if they don’t fight. It’s a brutal way to die.”

  Euless shrugged. “Makes sense from a money and an entertainment perspective. He’s the most popular fighter. Undefeated. Basically a badass who’d be nearly impossible to beat. They’d be stupid not to capitalize on that.”

  I looked at Euless sideways, amazed at his seeming unconcern, yet his logic was extremely sound. And that was probably exactly what happened.

  Sonora shook her head. “You’re probably right, Euless. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t have friends or confidants. He only hangs out with sex workers or the few people who have stuck by him for a long time, and the lords paid to keep him happy.”

  We’d missed the fighters’ introductions while we were talking, and were brought out of our conversation by the announcer saying, “Fight!”

  The Uland wasted no time in rushed in, slamming into his opponent with his shoulder and sending him rolling across the ground. That brought an eruption from the crowd, and the Uland threw his massive arms in the air and pumped his fists, clearly unworried about the man now getting up off the ground.

  Josey pulled out a magazine — a program for the tournament! I didn’t know they even had programs.

  “Where did you get that?”

  She shrugged and kept shuffling through the pages looking for something. “You need to pay more attention, Jayton. The little hawker stands are all over the place.”

  A sudden thought hit me. “Am I in there? What does it say about me?”

  “Of course you are, but your write up isn’t very interesting. We kept it that way for a reason. Ah, here we go.” She read a little then nodded. “I thought so. That’s one of his signature moves – using his speed to knock the opponent down quickly, providing instant entertainment and drawing first blood almost every time.”

  Morgan cringed as the fighter got up, his nose already broken and bloodied. “For using his speed, that wasn’t very fast. I could easily see him, and if he was using any type of power he should have been a blur.”

  Euless chimed in, his fingers twitching. That man always had to be moving something, one of the quirks of the Manus – they had so much energy coursing through them that they were in constant motion. “That was much slower than his top speed. From what I hear, he only uses enough speed to ensure that he hits his opponent. He would prefer to not be a blur, to put on a show for the crowd.”

  Damn, that was too profound statements in a row. Everyone looked at Euless and said, “Oh.”

  “Watch this,” Sonora said as the fighter attacked the Uland with fire and water, one from each hand. He might as well have been hitting him with a feather – both attacks sprayed right off him, not affecting hi
m at all.

  “Iron Hide,” Sonora said softly, a hint of awe in her voice.

  The Uland picked up a boulder in each hand, each of which had to weigh a couple hundred pounds – the showoff.

  “You got to admit, though,” Josey said. “He’s strong. I’m not sure how much stronger he is that you, Jayton, but his strength Quantum is nothing to be messed around with.”

  The Uland hurled the boulders one at a time, slow enough for his opponent to dodge them. Euless didn’t even have to say it this time – we knew he was putting on a show. The Uland continued to throw rocks at his opponent – laughing and striking him a couple times with some glancing blows, and in general playing to the crowd.

  After a minute, a sudden change came over the Uland. It was as if he was done playing and was ready to actually fight. The entire crowd went silent, and you could have heard a pin drop. The Uland seem to clench every muscle in his body, pulling himself down into a tight crouch. His opponent must’ve known what was coming and tried to run away. After five seconds of building the tension, the Uland took a big step forward and pressed his head forward. A sheer ball of force, looking like a condensed sphere of disturbed air, rocketed from his face, much too fast for his opponent to dodge.

  It hit his opponent square in the back and exploded on impact. The spray of blood and internal organs splattered in all directions. The Uland grinned and pumped his fist again as the crowd erupted.

  I was disgusted as pieces of his opponent were scattered everywhere and continued to fall for a couple of seconds.

  Josey gave another full-body shiver. “Blast Quantum. It’s one of his more powerful moves. Though he doesn’t use it that often.”

  Morgan cocked her head. “Why not?”

  “Cause he likes the Piston Punches better,” Euless said, knees bouncing a hundred miles an hour. “It takes a long time to build – what was that, like five seconds? If he fights a faster or more agile opponent, the power isn’t as useful.” He narrowed his eyes. “Plus, he likes to kill up close and personal.”

  Chapter 8 – Gilmer Borger

  AFTER DOZENS OF FIGHTS, the first day of the tournament was finally over. Gilmer, along with the rest of the crew, walked back to Jay’s room, which had grown in size. One of the perks of winning a round apparently – it now had a small kitchen and dining area. Gilmer watched as Sonora and Morgan investigated the seams of the room to see how it had changed so fast and so totally, clearly impressed.

  “Elementary, dears,” Euless said, bouncing around the room, full of energy like always. “It’s simply a high-level faculty transmutation power that has been layered into each of the rooms. They probably have all the fixtures and decorations in a big warehouse, everything disappears from a fighter’s room when they’re battling, and the walls and plumbing rearrange themselves when a winner is decided. The new amenities simply appear again once the walls are done. Very powerful, very effective, and quite impressive.”

  Oh.

  After dropping Jay off, Gilmer went with the rest as they made their way back to the Dew Drop. After an hour, Royn had asked for some privacy so he and Gilmer were the only two up.

  “All right, Gilmer,” Royn said, reclining in one of the chairs in the lounge. “I can show you how to use your new invisibility power. It’s more powerful than you know; it hides you from more than just sight. I can teach you how to truly be invisible, but there needs to be a reason, and like everything, there’s risk.”

  “What do you mean?” Gilmer asked.

  “I’m asking if I can turn you into a spy,” Royn said, cutting right to the chase. “We need intelligence in a bad way, about any number of things. It will be dangerous work, with a chance of being killed at every turn.”

  “Who will it help?” Gilmer asked, his eagerness written on his face.

  “Everyone. Especially Jayton.”

  He thought a moment, long and hard. Finally he nodded. “All right, let’s do it. What do you want me to do?”

  “We’ll start with the tournament fighters. Here’s a list to get you going,” Royn said, handing Gilmer a piece of paper with nothing on it.

  “Um, sir?”

  Royn rolled his eyes. “It will appear once you’re invisible. There’s no other way to read it. Keeps it safe that way.”

  “Oh, okay, got you. So what do we need to know?”

  “Anything and everything you can: their powers, their preferred moves, how strong they are, what their weaknesses are. We need more than what we’d learn from watching them fight. Basically, anything that can help Jayton to win. If there’s some way to beat the Uland and you figure it out, I might just kiss you.”

  Gilmer gulped. “Um, you want me to spy on that thing?”

  “No. I don’t want anyone near that guy. Too dangerous.”

  He physically relaxed. “All right, what else?”

  Royn grinned. Gilmer hadn’t even been taught anything and he was already eager to go to work with his new ability. He would need that courage. “Any information you can find about the war would be helpful.”

  “You mean to send me behind enemy lines,” Gilmer said. It wasn’t a question. Royn nodded. “Teach me how.”

  “One more thing you need to know,” Royn said, with a heavy sigh. “When you’re invisible, there will be times you will...see things. Things most people never see.”

  “Like what?”

  “Spirits.”

  Gilmer swallowed. “Can they harm me?”

  “Yes...and no. It depends on a lot of factors, namely your resolve and whatever their motives are at the moment.”

  “No sweat.” Gilmer grinned. “What’s the first thing I’m gonna learn?”

  Jayton Baird

  MY EARPIECE BEEPED in my ear, jerking me awake. I looked over at the clock – midnight.

  “Jay, you awake?” Royn asked.

  I rubbed my eyes. “I am now, sir. What’s up?”

  “Well, since you’re cooped up in the stadium, I thought you might want to hear first-hand updates from the front.”

  “Sounds great, sir.”

  “Mustang Seven is a Senturian on the front lines with the Elves along the canyon in the Trinity River. He’s about to call in. I’ll patch it through to your earbud. Home Stall is the call sign for the generals at the Wall.”

  “Is it secure?” I asked, wondering why he would risk something like that.

  “Absolutely. The earpieces between the members of our group can’t be hacked into, and my line back to Councilman Talco is as secure as they come,” Royn said. “Quiet now.”

  “Mustang Seven to Home Stall, come in Home Stall.”

  “This is Home Stall, go ahead Seven.”

  “I’m here with the pointy ears, sir, and we’ve spotted the enemy. We’re sending Senturian Corps vessels out to intercept as many as possible, but it’s a large force, sir, and we can’t possibly stop it with the few ships we have. Landfall will be imminent.”

  Home Stall replied, “Can we hold, Seven? Do we need reinforcements?”

  “Affirmative, sir. We can hold.”

  The general representing Home Stall said, “Mustang, can we really? Speak plainly, son.”

  “We can do our best, sir. The terrain is in our favor. Tight quarters, and we have the high ground. We’ll hold the canyon entrance as long as possible and then retreat slowly as planned. They’ll pay dearly for every inch. I’ll let you know when we have more intel about what they’ve brought and how we’re faring.”

  “Agreed, Seven. Appreciate it! Home Stall out. And Godspeed.”

  Chapter 9 – Jayton Baird

  THE CREW AND I TOOK turns watching the next day’s fights for scouting purposes. When we weren’t watching, we were in Corbman’s room, at his instance, as he had a decent stock of beers.

  “So how was your first fight, man?” Corbman asked, sipping from a long-necked brown bottle.

  “Good,” I said. “Harder than I expected, I guess. I put on a little show like you said, made it look go
od, and got a good cheer from the crowd. All in all, I’d say it was a pretty good first round.”

  “Yeah, and you didn’t die!” Gilmer said, drawing a laugh from everyone.

  “How about yours?” I asked.

  “It went great, of course! Who you think you’re talking to?”

  “Did you kill your opponent?” I asked, knowing the answer. I’d actually watched the fight. I’d have to up my game to put on as good a show as he did.

  “No, he couldn’t take a punch to the throat and passed out from lack of air! But we’re not talking about me here; we’re talking about you! You just going to let them melt your face off?”

  I laughed. “Not on your life, man.”

  “That’s what I like to hear! Say, Jay, I gotta know – why are you here fighting?” Corbman asked.

  “You’re the second person who’s asked me that. I’m here to protect people. Keep people from dying if I can help it.”

  “Ah, there it is! Honor! Protect the women and children. Protect the innocent. Defend those who cannot defend themselves!”

  “That’s one way of putting it, yeah,” I replied, taking a swig of my drink.

  Leona finished her conversation with Celeste and moved to talk to Troup. My eyes followed her the whole way across the room. Corbman watched me watch her, but didn’t say anything about it when I looked back at him.

  “That’s what I’m doing too,” he said. “My people need protection. I can fight and the money helps to pay for protection. Weapons, food, you name it. And if I can change even one mind, make them realize we’re all equal in front of the Creator, then it was all worth it, right Jay?”

  “But what if you die?”

  He shrugged. “Everyone’s number is up sometime.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Yet you’re concerned about what I’m doing?”

  He shrugged. “Just making talk, brother! I’m confident in my soul’s place. Are you?”

  “I am.”

  “Good!”

  We clinked bottles and each took a swig.