The Collar and the Cavvarach

by Annie Douglass Lima

  Bensin pretended to give way, shifting his weight suddenly, rolling over onto his back in the direction Ivan was pushing him. But he slid his feet around and under the other boy’s legs, bracing with them, using his momentum to continue the roll until he was on top.

  The audience roared. The count began again. Ivan writhed, face contorted with effort, but Bensin gripped his arms and refused to budge. Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.

  His opponent went limp as though in defeat, but there was no surrender in his face. Bensin didn’t relax his grip, ready for the last burst of strength that was meant to take him by surprise. He had tried that before himself and knew it was coming. Prepared, he didn’t fall for it.

  “FIVE!”

  The stadium erupted. Bensin finally let go and crawled aside, muscles trembling from the strain. People all over the arena leaped from their seats and screamed, Ivan rolled onto his belly and pounded the sand with both fists, and the emcee yelled into his microphone. Scrambling to his feet, Bensin remembered to raise his cavvarach in victory, but he felt more relief than triumph. He couldn’t exult over his vanquished opponent, whose dreams had just been crushed. He could only be thankful that he still had a chance to get Ellie freed, that it wasn’t him groaning in the sand, defeated and despairing.

  When he returned to the Competitors’ Cave, Coach was grinning wider than Bensin had ever seen him grin before. “Awesome! I told you you could do it!” He flung an arm around Bensin’s shoulders and thrust the thermos into his hand. “Take a drink. Listen, they’re still cheering for you out there!”

  Bensin downed a long draft of creamy, fruity sweetness. He still felt shaky. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ivan stumble into the Cave, his parents hurrying forward to meet him, as the next set of musicians marched out.

  “Did you have to give me a heart attack, though? Gosh, I thought he had you there at the end.” Coach took the thermos back. “All right, grab your shoes and let’s go find seats. You made it to the finals!”

  Bensin grinned shakily as a blast of music worthy of Wenn’s End shook the stadium. He was guaranteed at least second place now. But that wasn’t good enough. Second place wouldn’t pay for Ellie.

  They had just found two empty seats together in the competitors’ section — easy to do since there were only a handful of athletes here today — when Coach Steene’s phone rang.

  “Hello?” Coach yelled over the music, plugging his other ear with one finger. “Yeah, I know, wasn’t he awesome? Yeah, he scared me too, but he pulled it off.” A long pause. “Really? No way! Well, that would certainly be nice.” A shorter pause. “Sure, he’s right here. Just a second.” He passed the phone to Bensin. “It’s Kalgan Shigo.”

  Bensin pressed the phone to his ear. “Sir?”

  “Bensin, congratulations! My family and I and a group of Nate’s friends just watched you win your semifinal round. You should have seen the popcorn go flying across the living room at the end! That was quite a match.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “How are you feeling today? Rested, I hope?”

  “Sort of.” Bensin could barely hear his own voice. He plugged his other ear too. “I am kind of tired, sir, but not too bad.” Actually, now that the adrenaline was fading again, he realized that he really was pretty exhausted. “But I’ll be ready for the finals when it’s time, sir.” At least, I’d better be.

  “Good, good. Unfortunately, I’ll be at work by then, but Nate’s promised to record it for me to watch later. In the meantime, I have a bit of news you might be interested in. I just spoke to one of my colleagues, and apparently DeSalle officially fingered Wenn as an accomplice. They pulled him in for questioning, searched his auto shop, and found two thousand imps not mentioned in his account books hidden in the false bottom of a locked drawer.”

  “Really?” The music built into a stirring crescendo and Bensin pressed the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going to happen to the money, sir? Will my owner be able to get it back?”

  “It will take a few days, at minimum, to clear the system.” The officer’s voice was barely audible above the din. “But I’d say the chances are pretty good.”

  “Wow. That would be great, sir.” Maybe I won’t have to spend my whole life paying Coach back after all. Of course, they wouldn’t have the money in time to do Ellie any good. First place today was still the only thing that could accomplish that.

  “Well, I’ve got to go get ready for work. Just wanted to call and say well done so far, and to tell you the good news. We’re all rooting for you to win the finals too. And listen, you take tomorrow off, okay? You can let me know if you want to come hire in the next Monday, but you should definitely take at least one day to rest up after all this.”

  Bensin had forgotten tomorrow was Monday. “Thank you, sir. That sounds good.” This way he could go with Coach to pick up Ellie and bring her home. Assuming I win.

  They watched the rest of the semifinals, listening to half a dozen styles of music in between rounds. Jayce’s duel was intense; Bensin was rooting for his opponent, but in the end Jayce pulled through and disarmed the other boy. Of course. It was too much to hope for that Bensin’s final opponent would be anyone else.

  Then there was a break in the competition, and vendors paced back and forth along the rows of seats, selling snacks and lunch items to the hungry crowd. While they ate, a four-person boy band appeared and entertained the audience with a selection of their most popular songs. At least, that was what Coach said they were; Bensin didn’t recognize the group or any of the music. He chewed his sandwich and watched the dark clouds and occasional flash of lightning beneath the edge of the canopy roof, trying not to think about the upcoming duel with Jayce.

  After lunch, those who had lost in the semifinals competed against each other for third place. Bensin was glad to see Ivan defeat his opponent. Third place hadn’t been what the other boy had wanted, but surely it was better than nothing.

  At last it was time for the finals to start. First came the under fourteen girls’ match, then another musical piece, followed by the under fourteen boys. When the under sixteen girls got underway, Coach led Bensin down to the Competitors’ Cave to warm up.

  Bensin took off his shoes and socks again, trying to ignore the fact that Jayce was down there too. He could see his opponent starting to warm up already at the other end of the room.

  A burst of applause and wild cheers filled the arena as the girls’ round concluded and the winner waved her cavvarach in triumph. He jumped faster as she jogged back in from the ring, beaming, her defeated opponent slinking in after her.

  A pop singer in a short, sparkly dress appeared in the Cave and danced out onto the sand to even louder cheers. Bensin recognized her from the picture on her album cover on Nate’s computer. When she burst into song, he recalled that that was the first one Nate had played for him.

  But he couldn’t let himself get distracted. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see Jayce over by the opposite wall. The big moment is almost here. The moment that would change the direction of Ellie’s life, one way or another.

  When Bensin was done with his usual stretches, Coach unzipped the duffel bag. “Okay, time to get this on.” He helped him into the padding and shil, using just one hand to spare his injured arm, but didn’t hand him the cavvarach yet. “All right. I’m not going to ask if you’re ready, because we both know you are. Now listen up.” Coach lowered his voice. “The biggest part of your problem with Jayce has always been that you were intimidated by him, but that’s over forever now. That arrogant free kid with the designer clothes and the rich parents knows nothing about real life. He slept in a warm bed all night and is going to swagger in to his private school tomorrow and sign autographs for his classmates and boast about how he took second place in the Grand Imperial, and that will be the high point of his existence. You, on the other hand, understand life. You spent most of the night risking yours to help the City Watch capture two armed criminals. Not only that,
but you actually fought those criminals — single-handedly, for the most part — and escaped with barely a scratch. You quite possibly saved my life, and you certainly saved three innocent children from terrible fates. I watched you get in your Zone with not a single second of prep time and bring down that villain like he was nothing. So I’m not worried. You are going to beat Jayce, and you are going to prove to him and millions of viewers in this arena and around the empire that wearing a collar doesn’t make a person inferior in any way. And if you have a moment out there when it seems like he’s getting the upper hand, I want you to remember that he doesn’t have a gun, he isn’t twice your weight, and you already defeated a guy who did and was and could smash Jayce into the ground with his pinky finger. That poor kid has no idea what’s about to hit him. And besides all that, he sure as heck doesn’t have anywhere near the motivation you do. It’s already over. Now you just gotta get out there and make it official.”

  Bensin grinned. There was something about Coach’s pep talks that never failed to get him geared up for victory. “I will, Coach.” He reached for the cavvarach.

  Coach placed it ceremoniously into his hands. “This weapon saved Ellie last night, and it did half the job of freeing her this morning, and it’s going to finish the job now. You and it are going to go out there into the ring and Jayce is going to sneer at you. He’s going to get that superior look on his face and say something like, ‘I’m gonna grind you into the dust like I did before, Collar.’ But that’s okay. Let him have his moment of pride, ’cause he’s sure not going to have any left by the end.”

  Bensin hefted the cavvarach. “Got it, Coach.”

  Sudden silence, and then a thunderous round of applause for the singer. Bensin took a deep, slow breath and then another. Closing his eyes, he struck at the air with his cavvarach, feeling its smooth, friendly motion. He had always felt freer with a cavvarach in his hand than at any other time. It frees me when I fight, and now it’s going to free Ellie forever.

  When he opened his eyes, Jayce was already running out toward the ring, waving at the cheering crowd.

  “Good, he’s getting his applause while he can,” Coach observed. “They won’t be cheering for him when he comes back in.” He slapped Bensin on one padded shoulder. “All right, Bensin. Go set your sister free.”

  Bensin jogged out into the light, his heart pounding with anticipation.

  Jayce was waiting for him at the other end of the ring, a sneer on his face. “Ready to go down, Collar?” He mouthed the words so the microphones hovering over the ring wouldn’t pick them up, but Bensin could easily read his lips. “I’m about to grind you into the dust like the dirt you are, just like I did the last time, and the time before.”

  Lightning flashed as though giving emphasis to his words. But Coach had been right about more than one thing, Bensin realized. Jayce really didn’t intimidate him anymore. There was something about facing two murderous men with guns that made a boasting boy with a cavvarach seem like nothing.

  The whistle shrilled, thunder boomed, and they both leaped forward.

  Clash! Crash! Clang! Jayce was fast and he was skilled and he was smug. But he wasn’t perfect. Now that he didn’t make Bensin nervous anymore, Bensin could see the cracks in his defense, the flaws in his offense.

  We can beat him, my cavvarach and I. The knowledge sent confidence surging through him.

  He dodged a kick and aimed one of his own, his foot striking Jayce on the hand. A little harder and he might have knocked his opponent’s weapon away, but Jayce recovered at the last moment, clutching it with both hands now. His smirk disappeared, replaced by a scowl.

  Bensin followed up with another kick, hoping to catch him before he had fully recovered, but Jayce was ready this time. His left arm shot out, blocking Bensin’s kick with his shil, shoving out and up and throwing Bensin off balance.

  Bensin turned his stagger into a spin and a roll as Jayce followed up, charging forward. He would have switched hands mid roll, but a hard foot slammed into his knee, shooting pain up and down his leg. At the last second he didn’t dare change his grip for fear he would drop his weapon. But pain or no, he finished his roll and leaped to his feet almost as smoothly as he had done last night in the warehouse, cavvarach swinging. And a good thing, too. Jayce was right there, ready with another blow, but Bensin caught it on his blade with a resounding clang.

  His knee nearly gave way as he shifted his weight, but he hopped back, determined not to let it change anything. I still have three good limbs. I can still beat him.

  Taking advantage of his pain, Jayce aimed another kick at the same knee, but Bensin slashed and caught him in the calf. It was Jayce’s turn to spin out of the way, and Bensin lunged after him with another blow. He caught his opponent in the shoulder, and Jayce staggered from the force of it, backpedaling frantically. But when Bensin would have followed up and probably knocked him down, his knee buckled, sending fresh stabs of agony through his leg. Jayce recovered, turned, and had a moment to catch his breath and plan his next move while Bensin shifted his weight again and struggled to fight back the pain.

  I’ve got to end this quick. What would Coach tell me to do? He knew the answer even as Jayce leaped at him again. Stay in your Zone. Switch hands when you can.

  Bensin swung the cavvarach around to meet Jayce’s with a clang, reminding himself that this cavvarach had already helped him defeat a gun-wielding criminal twice Jayce’s weight. It was freedom; it was joy; it was victory in his hand.

  Again and again he blocked his opponent’s blows, the weapon almost seeming to move with a mind of its own. He was in his Zone and no one could touch him. Yes, every movement of his left leg hurt, but he compensated for it, worked around it, refused to let it distract him.

  Jayce was growing more frantic, slashing and lunging with a desperate fury. He was probably worried at his enemy’s newfound confidence. But Bensin continued to strike and parry methodically, waiting for his chance, for just the right kind of opening. I can still do this.

  But Jayce’s foot snapped out in a front kick that Bensin couldn’t quite dodge in time with only one good leg. His opponent’s heel slammed into his sore knee, and he staggered backward, gasping in pain. Jayce followed up hard and fast, and now it was Bensin’s turn to swing his cavvarach frantically, barely parrying each blow in time. He clutched the hilt with all the strength in his sweaty hand, thankful for the foam rubber that kept it from slipping out of his grasp.

  He threw his left arm up, using the shil to parry a blow meant to snag his cavvarach’s hook and tug it out of his hands. With a shove of his forearm, he forced Jayce’s blade away, opening up room for another blow from his own weapon. But his opponent dodged the blow easily and returned with a harder one, nearly capturing Bensin’s hook with his own once again, nearly disarming Bensin.

  He’s going to win!

  But Bensin parried the thought along with his opponent’s next slash. I beat a criminal last night. I can beat a stuck-up teenager today. Bracing himself against the pain, he took a quick hop backward on his bad leg and swung the good one out in a roundhouse kick. It was high time he spun around and switched hands, though part of his mind wondered if even that technique would be effective against Jayce now.

  His foot impacted with his opponent’s side, but Bensin didn’t have a chance to complete his spin. Even as Jayce stumbled and fell to one knee, his weapon swept forward. At this awkward angle he couldn’t strike hard enough to do any actual damage, but it was enough to whack Bensin in the thigh and throw him off balance.

  Bensin flailed his arms and staggered to keep from falling. If he hit the ground now, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up, with his knee on fire the way it was.

  The two boys regained their footing at the same time and faced each other again, both breathing hard. Jayce snarled like a wild animal and lunged forward once more. Their cavvarachs met with another clang, and Bensin twisted his, angling for that hook. But Jayce twisted it away just in time,
catching Bensin’s next blow on his shil.

  I’ve got to switch hands and then attack again fast. He just had to find the right opening. If he tried to switch at the wrong moment, Jayce would disarm him in that instant of transition.

  The opening came. Bensin combined his next parry with a shove, slamming his body against Jayce’s, bending and half turning to jam his shoulder into his opponent’s chest. Jayce stumbled back apace but recovered almost immediately, lunging forward once again.

  But the instant’s delay had been enough for Bensin to finally switch hands. He struck out in a left-handed attack that caught the other boy off guard. Jayce fumbled, his parry clumsy and poorly aimed, and the cavvarach struck him hard across his unprotected right forearm.

  Seizing the opportunity, Bensin leaped forward into his slash-and-kick disarm-and-disable move. Right leg, swing out low behind the knees to yank him off balance. Cavvarach, slash up and to the left toward where his weapon hand is going to be as he starts to fall backward.

  Putting all his weight on his injured left leg while he swung his good one was even harder than he had anticipated. And Jayce had a different grip on his cavvarach than DeSalle had had on his gun; though his fingers slipped on the hilt, he didn’t quite let go. He toppled, though, and Bensin flung himself onto him.

  He couldn’t keep from crying out as his injured knee hit the sandy ground with a painful jar. But he landed where he needed to, pinning Jayce down exactly as he had pinned the man last night.

  “ONE!”

  The other boy snarled and swore, writhed and thrashed. But not as hard as the criminal had. Bensin, however, was in more pain now than he had been last night. Much more. He could tell his leg was about to slip.

  “TWO!”

  Jayce tried to roll, nearly dislodging him. Bensin’s knee was screaming in agony. He desperately needed to shift position; something was very wrong down there, and he knew the pressure at this angle was making it worse. But if he moved even an inch, Jayce would escape from his hold.