“I think so.”
“Who is first?” Caspar asked. “Are there volunteers?”
Despite the eagerness to learn, no one spoke up.
“It is not about being fearless.” The Elder said. “It is about facing your fear. Use it.”
Still, none of the Novices spoke up.
The Elder sighed. “Very well. We will do this, as they say, the old fashioned way.”
He waved his hand. Behind them, the air billowed hard and shoved them all forward. Everyone screamed and toppled over the side.
And then they were falling.
The Vale’s treetops rushed up at them as she flailed her arms. She could do nothing but scream and wait for death. And unfortunately, they were so high up, waiting took a long time.
As they treetops neared, Dani and the others slowed. The air beneath them cushioned and they dropped slower and slower until just above the first branches, they stopped.
They hovered. Dani and Nathaniel exchanged looks. Did they stop themselves?
Nope. Caspar hovered down, hand held aloft and controlling all one hundred and fortyfive Novices. “Not a bad start.” He said with a grin. “Though blind panic won’t help you.”
“Totally cool.” Nathaniel marveled.
A few of the others agreed.
“Yes.” Caspar said. “Hopefully, one day, you will do this yourself. But until then—.” He dropped his hand.
With a scream, every Novice dropped into the branches of the trees. ______________________
Dani spent a lot of her time in the market place. She found that her wooden cups, the ones the centaurs crafted for her, flavored any water she poured into them. There were about a dozen, more than she needed, so she traded them to Adare, making several shekels of Corinth and an Orich, which she used to purchase something she never thought she would: hot wax. Apparently, shaving cream and razors weren’t a thing up here.
She also took to selling off some of the things in her returned bag. What Ethan said was true: Earth things like the spare music player and computer were better than gold up here. Shea was especially helpful in finding clients. All she had to do was avoid the Gatekeepers.
Usually, one or more of her friends tagged along with her when she went to the market. After shopping at a jinni vendor, Bouden asked, “Hey, Dani? Wanna see something cool?”
“If you take your pants off, I will hurt you.”
He chuckled. “Nah. Still wanna see?”
“Sure.”
He held his palm up to his mouth. He spoke softly into it. The air over his fingers quivered. And then, that same air disturbance floated off his palm, through the air and over Dani’s face.
“Dink is a loser.”
Dink stood next to her, but didn’t appear to hear it. He frowned. “What?”
Dani giggled. So did Bouden.
“How did you do that?” She asked.
“It’s an aerwhisper.” He explained. “It’s how Numen communicate
over long distances without messengers. You know the tower in the center of the Citadel? Messengers send and receive messages at the top. You can’t say a whole lot or the whisper will fall apart, but you can send short messages.”
“Oh, like magical Twitter?”
“Exactly!”
Adare was out at her market and smiled as Dani approached. “My
dear, you look as lovely as ever.”
“I get beat up on a daily basis and live in a shack. I look like hell, but
thank you.”
“Everything is half off today.”
“Adare, there are no fixed prices.”
“Oh, I know darling, but your friend there,” she pointed to Bouden,
“doesn’t.”
Dani saw Roxelana and waved, but her friend quickly dropped her
hand when Airlea walked by. How was it that she was in a magical world
and still suffering the problems she had in high school?
“Don’t take it personally.” Shea said, filling a basket with ears of
corn. “Airlea is a bit of a pain when it comes to you. Roxelana doesn’t want
to get you in trouble.”
“Why? What did I do to Airlea? I’ve barely spoken to her.” “True, but Ethan hasn’t come to vespertide.”
“You mean your super-secret club? What does that have to do with
me?”
“He hasn’t come since you arrived in Empyrean.”
The implication hung in the air between them.
Dani was looking over some of the spices Adare sold. In the past
month, she discovered that if she wanted anything flavorful, she needed to
learn to cook. As she chose some in small canvas pouches, a commotion
caught her attention.
Uphill, a crowd gathered. Numen Gatekeepers marched through the
streets down towards the bridge. Dani and her friends stood to one side as
they passed. Between them, purple-clothed Powers passed; some limping
along with help, others on stretchers, and some covered by white cloths. “What happened?” Dani wondered aloud.
“Demon attack.” Shea answered behind her. “I just heard from some
of the gifted. The Powers caught wind of a demon nest somewhere in the
Midwest. They went to take it down.”
“What happened?”
“Some type of unknown demon was waiting for them.” He shook his
head sadly.”
“A trap?”
“Looks like it.”
Dani watched the grizzly procession pass. It made her sick. Way too
many of them were on cloth-covered stretchers. Way too many of them
weren’t moving.
______________________
“Swords are one of our most effective weapons. No two are alike.” Dani sat cross-legged across from Mastema. A set of swords lay between them.
“Most swords,” he gestured, “are composed of adamantinesteel.”
He picked up his sword; the long, hooked one from another era. “Every Numen favors a weapon of their choosing. Some will choose a spear, or a bow, even an axe, but the sword is unique. It isn’t meant to be a primary weapon. Gatekeepers carry spears or bows for long range, but may carry a sword as an auxiliary. Naturals and alchemists favor knives, as they can be used for both defense and a tool. Most Guardians favor swords.”
“Why?”
“What better tool in close quarters? Guardians are sent alone into the unknown. The sword is versatile.” He held his higher. “My ancestors carried this weapon. It is called the khopesh.” He slid his finger along the curved spine. “One deadly arc meant for cutting and a hook-tip to thrust in and pull,” he tapped the backend barb along the point, “out the heart. It is an effective killing tool.”
He put his sword aside. “Scimitars and sabers have a similar design; light and meant for hacking and slashing. Backswords like these,” he held up a single-edged straight blade, “are for duels and armored opponents. The broadsword is double-edged, used for thrusting and blocking. All are singlehanded weapons.”
“Ethan carries a two-handed sword.”
“A Montante longsword. It was used by his Italian ancestors, but none of that is your concern. You are too small to wield such a weapon.”
“Hey! I’m not weak!”
“You misunderstand me. It is not that you cannot. It is that you should not. Those of small stature need to be quick and agile. Speed will be your ally.”
They stood. “Everyone says relying on others keeps us safe against demons.” She said. “It’s practically a mantra around here. They should slap it on a coffee mug or something.”
“And if others would rely on you,” he told her, “we would speak of that, but no one will, so it is a moot point.”
“I have friends.”
Mastema went to the footlocker where he kept practice weapons, opening the lid. “I am aware of Ethan’s and Kleos’ charges.”
>
“Speaking of them,” she toed the hilt of one of the swords, “everyone keeps talking about you. Or actually, not talking about you. It’s like no one wants to say what they’re thinking.”
For his part, Mastema didn’t either. He dug around in the trunk without saying a word.
“Is there something I should know?”
Still nothing.
“Why don’t people trust you? Judah says the Elders don’t. Nazir called you a failure. And then you had to go before the Elder Council a month ago and—.”
“I think that is enough.” Mastema barked.
It took Dani aback. He glared at her for a second, his irises two burning black coals of anger, and then he softened and stood.
“We begin.” He said calmly.
“With which weapon?” she asked, looking at them all.
“With none.” He threw something to her, which she barely caught.
“Aw, come on! Sticks again?” this one was short, only about three feet long at most, with a hilt; a practice sword. “This is bull! When do I learn to fight with real weapons?”
“When you learn to fight with these.” Mastema strode to the middle of the pavilion, his own baton in hand. He spread into a fighting stance, his weapon strangely pointed to the floor instead of up. “Come, Novice. Let us see what skill you possess.”
Resigned to her fate, Dani got into her own stance. She kept her stick point-up, her hand out in protective position instead of tucked behind her back like Mastema.
“Attack!” he yelled.
She did, instantly regretting it.
Apparently, there was a reason he held his sword that way. If she attacked at his (supposedly) unprotected face he simply flipped his weapon up, knocked hers aside and hit her. If she went low, he stabbed down to block, knocked hers aside and hit her. If she tried to stab, he struck her hand, knocked hers aside and hit her.
It became a string of unending bruising.
He taught her to stand, to keep her free hand ready but protected against her side, to find the weak spot and attack. He instructed in strikes, counterblows, how to use both sides of the weapon: short (the edge facing her) and long (edge facing him) to strike. She did well enough to not get beaten silly, but it didn’t stop the pain. Mastema was a Nazi.
They moved to two handed weapons, which were easier, but she realized very quickly why it didn’t work for her. Though the distance the “sword” had was more and the two hands gave her more control, Mastema’s reach was far greater than hers. She could move fast but she could get nowhere near him. Maybe with a hundred year’s more practice, she could, but this time he wasn’t pulling punches.
“Ow!” she screamed as he struck her shoulder. “That’s like the elventybillionth time!”
“That’s not a number.” He said.
Dani did her best Keanu Reeves impression, “Yet.”
Mastema stared blankly at her.
“Keanu Reeves, Celebrity Jeopardy; don’t you watch SNL?”
“What is SNL?”
Right. “Never mind.”
“Which do you prefer? One-handed or two?” he asked.
“One handed.” She dropped her practice sword to the ground. “What if I used two short swords? I could use one to fight and one to block.”
“Why on Earth would you do that?”
She shrugged. “Double the weaponry, double the chance to hit someone?”
He shook his head. “That is a fantasy meant for children’s books. No true swordsman would ever use two weapons at once, unless they were skilled well beyond on your years.”
“Really?” She retrieved the two practice batons from the ground.
“The dexterity and coordination it would require takes patience.” Mastema lectured. “Time. Practice.”
“Uh-huh.” She twirled the two sticks in her hands.
“And to learn to strike with one or both simultaneously would be too difficult to master. Most accomplish it only after years of study.”
“You mean like this?”
Dani rotated her wrists, loosening them, and then swung. First left, then right, striking the air in front of her with each weapon, tumbling the blows into the same place, before spinning, striking and flowing into another stance. She used what combatives she knew to keep balance as she spun, flipping from one foot to another easily, then striking. She spun and cut, then did a quick round-off, landing on both feet in front of him and pressed the point to his chest with a grin.
Mastema didn’t react, unimpressed. “I assume you’ve had some form of training?”
“Better.” She grinned. “Baton twirling.”
“Baton twirling?”
“You know: marching band, leotards, frilly little string coming out the end?” She grinned. “The only difference is that it’s done by dumb blonde Valley girls and the object isn’t to cut a person in half.”
He shook his head. “It is more involved than that to strike with two weapons.”
“Well, yeah, but what if I told you it I used the sticks to hit boys in the face when they mouthed off? Would that convince you?”
“No.”
______________________
Mastema allowed Dani to practice using two weapons. It didn’t go much better, but she was able to block some blows with the second short sword well enough to justify it to herself. She didn’t escape unscathed, but at least she wasn’t getting whacked in the ribs every five minutes.
Afterwards, she and Mastema feasted on some kind of beef, bread and asparagus. Dani used panacea bandages to heal her bruises so she’d be able to use her right arm in the morning. And with a house, they ate at a table like civilized people.
“In a week and half’s time,” he told her, “the Trials will begin. We must prepare you for them.”
“What are the Trials?”
He paused, legitimately shocked for the first time she knew him. “You mock me?”
“You mean am I kidding? No. I have no idea what they are.”
“Hellfires, did they not tell you of this?” He cursed again bitterly. “The Elders were to inform you. Every group of Novices undergoes the Trials. They are a test of your abilities. Each aerie is pitted against a series of three separate trials. Training is entirely devoted to these tests. Not knowing of them is certain to grant failure!”
“Why? What’s the point of that?”
“How an aerie performs determines their worth in our society.”
“What? Like standings in a bracket?”
“I do not know of what you speak.”
She sighed heavily. “I mean, it’s sort of like a competition?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“What if you fail to win?”
“That has never occurred. Three attempts and never has an aerie failed all three. Should an aerie fail to garner at least one victory, either against another aerie or in completion of a Trial, the consequences would be dire. They would have no place amongst us.”
“What are these Trials, exactly? Is it fighting another aerie?”
“It is fighting another flock as much as fighting yourself. The Trials are designed by Arbiters to be a foe unto themselves.”
“You mean Heman and Azariah?”
“Elder Heman and Elder Azariah.” He corrected. “And yes, amongst others. The Arbiters design them. Those in the city suitable for the task will be asked to lend their gifts to the Trials.”
Great. Why hadn’t she been told about the Olympic Games from Satan’s backside? She knew the answer, but was just too incensed say it. Mastema was right. She should have been told.
“Those bloody Elders,” Mastema muttered. “Any aerie not informed of the Trials would be hampered. You were to be studying for them since the beginning!”
How could people keep doing this to her? Heman had been unfair in the Vale. Asaph tried to have her executed upon arrival. Nazir set her up to get beaten. Andreas. Lester.
“Mastema, why is no one is helping me?” Dani demanded.
“Why is everyone so hell bent on me failing?”
“You are an outsider.” He told her. “Outsiders are not given the benefit of the doubt.”
“But I’m not an outsider! I’m a Numen just like them!”
“You are a Numen not attested to in the Book of Metatron, a woman, and—in their eyes—a radical element. ”
“So?”
“So, that is self-explanatory.”
“No it’s not!”
“It is for now.” He finished his food and departed.
She called out, “Mastema? Please. If anyone would understand, it would be you. Why is it so important that I’m not in the Book?”
He paused, stopping at the edge of the pavilion. He glanced over his shoulder. Then, melting into shadows, he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Do you have minute of free time?” The following week, Dani’s mood hadn’t improved. At Combatives, they were into weapons, which she felt confident in until her first match. Despite two swords and Mastema’s training, she lost the match to a Novice with a two-handed weapon. She needed to get faster, or learn to fight opponents who could put pounds behind their blows. Kleos tried to comfort her, pointing out Dink preferred a bow and arrow to straight fighting. Bouden, too. She could follow their lead. She, however, didn’t.
It was Ethan pulling her out of Studies that changed the pace of the day. Elder Atid, using Aer, formed a figure out of smoke. She sat quietly with Nathaniel, Dink and Bouden, watching Atid move the grotesque monster while he lectured.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked.
Ethan knelt next to her. “Can I borrow you for a little bit?” She blushed. Ever since flying with him that day, she felt weird
around the short, handsome Guardian. His cute curls looked cuter. His honey eyes were more honey-er. Damn him.
“I’m studying.”
He glanced at the image. “Simple to remember: demonic imp. Common demon. They’re similar to wraiths; low on the totem pole. Rotten skin. Decaying flesh. Take off the head or destroy the heart to kill them. Ready now?”
“Have you ever killed one?” Dink whispered excitedly.
“Yes. Dani? Time? You got it?” he looked anxious.
“Um, I think so. Do you guys mind?” she asked her friends.
All of them were okay with it. Mostly. Nathaniel looked bothered, but he said nothing.
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