by TR Cameron
The grin that appeared a moment before he countered made it clear that she’d overstepped. He spun the bo staff in his hands to block both weapons, then snaked it out and slapped it against her wrist. She dropped the dagger with a yelp and darted away as the end of his stick sought her head. Hastily, she dropped into a crouch and blocked the next downward strike with her sword, then guided the staff out of the way with it. As she paused to swing it in again, her foe dropped, spun, and cut her legs out from under her with his heel.
She landed on her back, and it was only a second before his weapon was at her throat. Cali moaned, “I yield,” and Ikehara lowered himself beside her as she rose to a seated position.
“What did you do wrong?”
“I agreed to become your student.” She sighed and when he laughed, she shook her head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I thought I had you once I pushed the staff outward.”
He nodded. “But you had to generate the swing in the other direction, which gave me time. Is there a way to use your magic to push the staff away or to propel your sword?”
“Perhaps, if I had the gift of telekinesis. But that’s one I can’t seem to master. So…maybe a force blast to block with. I could probably do that.”
“Good. You’re learning fast with the sword and dagger combination. In a few more months, you’ll be as proficient with them as you are with the sticks.”
“If only I had a few more months.” She added nothing further, reluctant to burden him, but of course, he refused to simply let her statement lie.
“Why don’t you?”
Cali shrugged. “Things are moving faster and it looks more and more like the only way to get ahead of the curve is to make them go faster still.”
He nodded. “That is appropriate for an Aikido practitioner. Use your enemy’s momentum against them.”
“That’s enemies, plural. Which makes it a little more difficult since they’re not all going in the same direction.”
“You’ll merely have to be more agile.”
“I feel like an elephant among gazelles, Sensei.”
Ikehara laughed loudly and clapped his hands. “A clear sign that you are resistant to moving with the speed you need to.” He tapped a forefinger gently on her forehead, a gesture he had used often during their early training sessions. “The problem is not in your body. It is in your mind. You are a cheetah. Act like one.”
“Right. Easy-peasy.”
“If you let it be, it will be.” That was another one of his phrases she simultaneously loved and hated. “Now, what also will be is the group class. Prepare.”
After the session with the other students, Ikehara had pulled her aside and recommended she spend the afternoon working on her mind rather than her body. She hadn’t mentioned the fight that night but she imagined he’d sensed it somehow. Or maybe it was coincidence. Either way, it was a good idea. She’d meditated while she lay in bed, while she stretched and swayed through basic tai chi forms, and while she showered and prepared for what was to come.
Now, arriving at her parents’ bunker before the others, she was in a contemplative mood. Fyre moved to the lockers and lay near them, engaged in his pre-fight ritual—extreme relaxation. She snorted.
Pre-fight, pre-sleep, pre-walk, pre-whatever. That is one creature who knows how to chill.
Cali looked at the items on the other wall and the strings that connected them and wondered what her parents had been up to. Tanyith had shared Barton’s discovery that the people pinned there were all bad and were missing or dead. He hadn’t mentioned anything more, but it was an easy jump to assume the detective wasn’t thrilled about the discovery. She hoped it wouldn’t be a big issue between them.
There was no way on Earth or Oriceran that she would judge her parents’ actions, whatever they were, as anything other than right and necessary, though. She might not understand the why of it all, but she held no doubts about the correctness of their intentions.
She was dying to know what treasure the dagger referenced but had accepted Nylotte’s advice to wait and let her investigate it first. That was another thing she didn’t understand. Why was the Drow so willing to help her? Of course, at this moment in her life, she was willing to take what was offered. If she survived, she would find a way to repay every favor with interest. If not, she’d trust that Zeb and Tanyith would take care of it for her. Part of her wanted to include Fyre in that group, but she was certain that she and her Draksa life partner wouldn’t survive for long without each other.
It wasn’t a thought she wanted to focus on so she pulled the uniform out and slipped into it, using the ritual to calm her mind as she always did. While she changed from her shorts into the black trousers, she put away the worries about New Atlantis. They were for after she took the outfit off again. The tight ebony tunic that replaced her t-shirt banished thoughts about the Zatoras and whatever they were up to. This night was only about the Atlantean gang. As she fastened the jacket, she locked away the bigger concerns with them. The ongoing rituals and their actions in the city were irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was defeating the five opponents they’d bring to the fight.
The next step was to check to make sure her potions were in place, even though she’d put them there herself after the previous occasion—two of each on either side of her body in thigh pouches. Her heavy belt from New Atlantis went over everything, along with the glass spheres that held the sharp crystals that had proven so useful before. Invel had been willing but not exactly happy to supply more. She felt the same about using them—willing but reluctantly so.
But I will do what I need to do. She glanced at the wall again, filled with papers and photos and string. Exactly like they did.
Fyre sensed the portal an instant before she did, raised his head, and looked expectantly at the center of the room. She turned as the rift solidified to reveal the basement of the Drunken Dragons Tavern on the other side behind her friends. Tanyith and Zeb walked through, and the magical passage dwindled and faded. She nodded, and they returned the gesture.
Zeb looked around and chuckled. “I love what you’ve done to the place—which is to say absolutely nothing.”
That drew a laugh from Tanyith and eventually from her as well. Leave it to him to find something to jab her about, no matter when or where they happened to be.
“I’ve been busy,” she countered. “My boss is a hard taskmaster.” The man smothered a smile and headed to the lockers.
The dwarf put his hands on his hips. She’d never seen the clothes he wore now, an all-black ensemble that included heavy boots and trousers, a thick shirt, and a vest over it. The latter item seemed extra bulky, and she wondered what might be hidden under or inside it. He also wore wide bracers that she instantly recognized as magical weapons similar to her sticks, and the broad handle of his battle-ax Valerie was visible over one shoulder. “I’ll have you know that you work only half as hard as Janice does these days.”
Cali scowled. “That’s low. Really low. Think for a minute what a shambles the Dragons would be without me. Like, a literal shambles. You’d have to come out from behind the bar constantly to break altercations up, and you’d hate that.” She shook her head. “Janice. Please.”
He laughed. “Fair enough. But that doesn’t make this place any more attended to.”
“Shut up or I’ll attend to you.”
Fyre snorted, and Zeb grinned. He clapped his hands slowly. “Good one. I feel properly threatened now.”
She sighed but couldn’t keep her smile hidden. “Shut it. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“And I am, always. That means I’m not allowed to lie to you.”
Her retort was interrupted when Tanyith asked, “So, is there any special plan for tonight?”
Cali turned to where he’d already changed into the trousers and tunic and now buttoned the jacket. Zeb stepped forward to complete the small circle of people around the recumbent Draksa, who seemed unconcerned with either their positioning
or conversation. She sensed only a sleepy confidence from him, which she tried to pull into her mind.
“If only I could be more like you, buddy,” she sent to him, and a thread of mirth joined the other feelings that coursed between them.
“She’s kind of light on strategy,” the dwarf quipped, “from what I’ve seen.”
With a sigh, she replied, “Shut it. We can’t decide on a strategy until we see the venue. But ultimately, it’s the same. Choose an opponent, overcome them however we need to, and move on to help the others.”
“Are you not worried anymore about using magic right off the bat?” Tanyith asked.
She shook her head. “Nah. I think I was wrong to care about that. Or maybe it made sense early on when we still had tricks to reveal but not so much now that we all know each other so well. Anyway, do what you feel you need to do.” She turned to her boss. “You’re the surprise of the day. Is there anything we need to know?”
He shrugged. “I can take on the extra one if needed. I’m fairly good at fighting multiples and have considerable experience in that arena. Plus, out of all of us, I’ve almost definitely faced the largest number of different types of magic. You and Fyre should probably work as a team as much as possible, and Tanyith and I will try to do the same.”
Cali nodded. “Assuming the battleground allows us to. I looked on the Internet and found some floor plans, but the abandoned hospital is essentially what you’d expect it to be—a maze of rooms and hallways, all of which are in danger of imminent collapse. I wouldn’t be shocked to find sections that already have. On the plus side, the blasted giant crab won’t fit there. And I can’t imagine there will be many spectators.”
Tanyith looked thoughtful. “Are traps allowed within the rules?”
“Probably not ones set in advance but we should keep our eyes open. They’ve proven any number of times that following the letter of the law is not something that concerns them overly much.”
“It’s a good arrangement for us.” Zeb sounded happy. “We’re all adept at close-quarters battle. This will take away their big magical advantages like long-range attacks and mutated creatures.”
“Big mutated creatures,” she clarified. “They could have smaller ones. There have been Draksa the last couple of times.”
“Fair enough.” The dwarf didn’t sound concerned about the possibility. “But it still plays to our strengths.”
“Which makes you wonder why they chose it, doesn’t it?” Tanyith asked suspiciously. “They have to be aware of that, too.”
She considered his question, which made sense and was something they needed to keep in mind. “They didn’t know about Zeb. Perhaps they thought this would be effective against you and I and Fyre? It definitely cuts out the aerial advantage.”
“I don’t know.” The man sounded skeptical. “Maybe there’s another reason, like whoever they bring are better in this environment, too.”
Cali nodded. “And that’s why we can’t have nice things like strategy. So, how about we simply get there and get this over with?”
They’d be a little early but she wasn’t worried about that. She wished absently that she hadn’t left her new dagger with Nylotte but she’d decided the knowledge on it was too important to risk. Any lead to her parents was more valuable than gold at the moment.
Tanyith finished securing his jacket and summoned the first of the three portals they’d use to reach the location. “You’re right. Enough talking. Let’s do it.”
Chapter Ten
A few moments later, Cali was the first to step out of the portal onto the grounds of the abandoned hospital. The lower area where the emergency room had been had become a small lake full of unhealthy looking water. Ahead was a glassed-in lobby entrance, and the metal doors inside stood open. She sniffed the air and caught the odors of mildew and mold and rotting vegetation. “Eww.”
Fyre sneezed, a clear signal of his agreement.
Zeb’s expression evidenced his disgust. “There are no sounds—no birds or insects or anything. This is not a place for living beings.”
Tanyith strode ahead but stopped at the entrance and gestured expansively for her to precede him. She rolled her eyes. “Always the gentleman, especially when it involves heading into danger.”
He gave her a small smile. “You know it.”
His nerves were showing. She hoped she did a better job of hiding hers, but they were there and tried to convince her to leave rather than cross the threshold into the facility. Cali forced herself through the doorway and into the darkness beyond. A glowing orb was positioned down the hallway to the left, so she headed in that direction and the others followed. Fyre transmitted a combination of wariness and comfort, which set her mind at ease.
I guess I don’t need to worry about him being hampered by the venue if he’s not worried about it.
The lamps led them along a labyrinthine path and eventually down a wide staircase. A short distance beyond that was a room that spilled light into the corridor from the doorway on the right-hand wall. She stopped and turned to the others.
“This is your last chance to back out.” Tanyith shook his head and Zeb merely laughed. She turned, her spirits buoyed, and strode into the room with her magic pressed demandingly against her ability to restrain it.
She’d expected a crowd and perhaps a nightmarish creature awaiting them. Instead, only six people were present in what had clearly once been a cafeteria. One was Danna Cudon, dressed as ever in a suit and tie. She looked worn in the shadows thrown by the orbs. The other five were indistinguishable from each other. They seemed like statues in the familiar black crab-shell armor with full helmets to hide their features. By their size, she could determine that they weren’t Kilomea, dwarves, or gnomes, but that was about all she could decisively commit to.
Tanyith muttered behind her, and Zeb responded with something she didn’t hear. Her attention was focused on the Atlantean leader, who stepped forward at their arrival.
Cudon wore the familiar smirk but it also seemed worn and drained.
“Maybe she’s tired of losing,” Cali sent to Fyre and received a touch of mirth in return. The other woman’s voice was less triumphant than usual, as well.
“Caliste Leblanc, do you wish to forfeit?”
Cali shook her head. “No, but you certainly could. You started this and you could end it right now. Your people don’t have to risk their lives over this stupid ritual.”
The gang second in command shrugged. “Those are meaningless concerns. The champions welcome the fight as a way to prove themselves. If they fail, they were never worthy, to begin with.” She expected to see some kind of reaction from the others, but they remained motionless. “It is unlikely all your friends will survive the day, even if you manage to emerge victorious. Perhaps you’d like time to say your goodbyes?”
“Shut it, wench. Let’s do this.” Anger spiked within her and for a moment, she wondered what the consequences would be of setting the woman ablaze. Fyre’s continued confidence helped her steady herself.
“Very well. In one minute, the combat begins.” Without any other indication, the five statues blurred into motion, separated, and raced from the room through several exits. “It ends, as always, with the incapacitation or death of the opposing force. I will be here, awaiting the return of your bodies when you have failed.”
She grinned. “Are you sure you don’t want to make it six on four, hmm? Or are you still hiding behind the whole ‘I’m not allowed’ excuse? Who holds your puppet strings, anyway?”
With a dismissive wave, the woman moved to a darkened corner of the room and vaulted onto a table where she sat cross-legged and closed her eyes.
Cali had no doubt that she was nonetheless keenly aware of them and ready to defend herself if need be. She turned to her teammates.
Zeb said, “They’ll rely on darkness but my people come from underground and I can see better than most. Tanyith and I will be fine.”
“As can I, a
nd as will we,” Fyre replied. He sounded eager to get into the battle, and she wondered if it was her emotions rolling onto him or if his were influencing her desire for a fight. Either way, the result’s the same.
She willed her bracelets to transform into sticks and nodded. “All right, then. Let’s go clean up.” She tapped her earpiece to turn it on and Tanyith and Zeb did the same. “Remember, no dying. I don’t have that many friends and I don’t want to lose you.”
She turned and headed to the door where two of their enemies had vanished a few moments before, Fyre at her side.
Tanyith trailed behind Zeb and felt entirely uncomfortable in the dark environment which left him only able to detect obstacles in the corridor when he bumped into them. He hadn’t realized how much the orbs had pushed away the ominous sense of blindness until they’d moved beyond the dim lights.
“Maybe we should create some light of our own?” he whispered.
Zeb replied at the same volume. “We’d make ourselves easy targets if we did that.” The comm system allowed them to speak softly enough that their words wouldn’t reveal them to their enemies.
“Not if they’re able to see in the dark already.”
The dwarf paused as if to think it over. Finally, he said, “It’s a fair point. But we have to assume there are limitations on that ability. Using a light would make us too visible. That’s doubtless what they expect us to do, so we shouldn’t do it.”
He wanted to argue but couldn’t fault the summary of the tactical situation. In the larger game, revealing themselves would be bad despite how much better it would make him feel at the moment. He muttered, “Fine, but I’ll hide behind you.”
His partner chuckled. “Best of luck with that, tall person.” He hissed softly and stopped. “There’s an intersection ahead. It looks like a nice position for an ambush with doors on the other side of it from us. It might be impassable but I can’t tell.”
