Preserving the Ingenairii

by Jeffrey Quyle

  A distant fanfare of horns sounded, indicating the movement of the emperor. Alec scrambled out of his seat and went around to the outside of the stadium and then back into the pen area, where numerous officials and warriors were milling. “Hustle up, son!” an official told him. “Get over to the gate or you’re out.”

  Nabokov was waiting for him along with an Indige and an Emeral warrior. “I thought maybe you would just not show up, which wouldn’t be a bad strategy,” the large warrior told him in a sneering tone. “You take out whichever one of those two you want, and then you fold, got it?”

  Alec looked up at the confident warrior. “I will win,” he said, drawling as best he could.

  A bell chimed before Nabokov could respond, and together they joined the other contestants and officials to walk out onto the sands for the final encounter of the tournament. The emperor was in his box, Alec saw, surrounded by significant security. The four warriors took their spots, Alec being the youngest in appearance.

  A horn blew a triumphant flourish, and the Indige swordsman turned towards Alec. Alec accepted the unspoken proposition, and stepped towards him as well, squaring off as Nabokov and the Emeral warrior paired up.

  Alec’s opponent began to probe his defenses, searching right and left, high and low, for a weakness in Alec’s skills. “You’re the first fighter to ever come all the way from the qualifying match to the finals,” the Indige swordsman said. “I salute you.

  “I heard you were picked up at the promenade. It’s a shame my own house didn’t find you; you’d be fencing for a much more honorable cause than wanting to kill an emperor,” he continued, and then attacked in earnest. He’d apparently concluded that Alec’s low defenses were weak, as his sword whistled past Alec’s knees repeatedly. Suddenly he reached high and the tip of his blade sliced painfully across Alec’s forehead before the Dominion warrior could defend himself adequately.

  “Nice stroke,” Alec said. “But you’re wrong; I’m not going to harm Sergey. I support him,” he said as he moved slightly to his right.

  “You talk, differently,” the other fighter said, puzzled by Alec’s words and his accent. He was distracted, Alec saw, and as he heard a cheer from the crowd, Alec launched his own attack. He pinked the deep purple-blue shoulder of his opponent, then added a slice across his belly.

  There was another cheer from the crowd. Alec stepped back to see what his opponent would do, and to wipe the blood off his face; it was dripping heavily from his scalp wound on his forehead, and Alec knew it would soon be in his eyes. He called upon his healer energy to stop the flow of fresh blood, again feeling the discomfort that the use of the energy caused.

  There was a noise behind him, and Alec whirled and crouched just as Nabokov swung at him from the rear, trying to decapitate him while he was unprepared. Alec rolled to the ground and came back up ten feet away, ready to battle further. Nabokov’s Emeral opponent lay on the ground, badly injured if not dead, while Alec’s Indige opponent was still standing as though undecided whether to concede because of his injuries or to try to fight on.

  Nabokov was coming towards Alec though, with murderous intent in his eyes. “A companion of mine, Boris, said he saw you fighting this afternoon, and he recognized you. Boris says you attacked him in the promenade veranda two nights ago, and you helped Sergey escape from our control.

  “Whatever game you are playing at, it comes to an end here,” Nabokov said, and he whipped his arm towards Alec, throwing a handful of sand at Alec’s eyes. Too late Alec saw the grit flying through the air and closed his eyes, then rolled automatically to his right to get out of Nabokov’s range before he came up standing in a new location.

  His eyes were still closed, as he tried to blink the dust out of them. Recognizing he was in a desperate situation, Alec called upon his warrior powers, and withstood the queasy pain to let his enhanced senses guide his defenses as his right hand rubbed his eyes. He heard the shuffle of Nabokov’s feet and the whistle of his sword, causing Alec to swing his own blade low to block the attack. He riposted further down, and momentarily trapped Nabokov’s blade against the ground, then charged forward to head-butt him and roll on top of, then over his opponent.

  Alec came up standing, but heard a noise behind him and whirled to bring his blade up and stop the Indige swordsman’s feeble attempt to attack. His eyes were clearing, and he managed to get his right eye momentarily open to see the relative locations of his two opponents. Alec poked a stab into the thigh of the Indige fighter, then added a slice across the ribs, moving his sword at a pace the man couldn’t follow. He whirled with his eyes shut again and listened for Nabokov.

  “How are you doing it?” Nabokov growled. “What’s your trick?” there was a sound of anger, and even respect in his voice, but no fear yet, Alec noted. He blinked his eye open again for a second and saw where Nabokov stood, and knew he could defeat him in that spot. Alec closed his eyes and launched a fierce volley of fast-moving high attacks. He felt Nabokov step back one step, then a second step back to defend himself. Alec just needed him to go back one more step, and pressed his blind attack further.

  Nabokov took his third step backwards to move out of Alec’s range, and as he did so he stepped onto the body of the Emeral warrior. He lost his balance, and began to fall, flailing wildly as he did. Alec stabbed repeatedly, feeling his blade pierce Nabokov’s flesh, then he heard the sound of the Scarle champion hitting the ground, rolling and moaning where he lay.

  The crowd was screaming deliriously. Alec took his hand from his eyes, dropped his warrior powers, and called upon his healer powers again. He doubled over momentarily in pain from the too frequent use of the energy, but he still swept his hand over his face, clearing his eyes and then dropping his abilities.

  He felt his legs shake as a result of the energy-strain injury he had suffered from the use of the translocation ability. He would be hard-pressed to be able to use any energy at all at this point he knew, and he prayed that the situation would stay calm. Standing straight up, Alec opened his eyes. All three of the other finalists were still lying on the ground. The crowd was cheering. The emperor’s box was straight ahead of him, and the emperor was standing in applause with the rest of the crowd. In the screened box of the opposition, there was a scream momentarily, then silence.

  Alec left the ring, and walked towards the emperor’s box. He came within five paces and stopped, as guard’s stepped in front of him. “Your majesty,” he said formally, bowing.

  Sergey recognized him. “I’m glad to see that we do meet again under better circumstances, Jeswyne’s friend. You put on quite a show for us.”

  “May I approach, your majesty?” Alec asked.

  “Let him through,” the emperor said, and the guards stepped aside.

  Alec stepped up to the edge of the retaining wall, as he heard a mass scream from the crowd behind him. He pulled out his sword, reversed it, and handed it hilt-first to the emperor in a sign of obedience.

  “Ah. You honor me,” Sergey said. He accepted the hilt, and tapped the blade on each of Alec’s shoulders in a sign that he accepted Alec’s loyalty.

  “This should send a confusing signal about Scarle’s intentions,” Alec said. “Of course I don’t speak for anyone in that house, but the crowd doesn’t know that!”

  Alec’s eyes and the emperor’s eyes locked in agreement, but another mass scream of panic diverted their attention.

  “They can’t truly have done this!” Sergey muttered. “Guards, get ready to evacuate.”

  Alec turned, and his face went pale. Standing across the arena, on the far side by the Scarle boxes, was a demon. And he had virtually no powers left to use to fight it.

  “You can come with us,” Sergey said to Alec, “we’ll be able to find a safe place.

  Just then there was another scream, and a small figure was dumped on the sandy floor of the arena near the Scarle box. Alec recognized Jeswyne.

  “You go protect yourself,” Alec said urgently. He gra
bbed a spear from one of the guardsmen. “I’ll go protect Jeswyne.”

  Chapter 48 – The Demon’s Wounds

  Carrying his spear and sword, Alec ran across the sands towards the demon. Despite the creature’s ability to move with lightening speed, it was approaching Jeswyne slowly, like a cat playing with a mouse. Running with all his might, Alec reached back and launched the spear, letting it fly through the air above the surface of the fighting ground as Alec continued to sprint. The spear arced high, found the crest of its flight, and then plummeted downward, striking the demon in its hind quarters. It was a lucky strike, Alec knew, not having used his warrior powers, and he decided to take it as a provident sign.

  The demon turned its attention to its injury, ripping out the spear and throwing it away, then becoming aware of the small human figure racing at it. The occupants of the arena were screaming madly, most of them trying to flee, but many stood still, transfixed by the sight of the human warrior dashing from the emperor’s box to fight a demon.

  Jeswyne lay on the sand, unnoticed by the demon for the moment, and she took the opportunity to stand and back up against the wall. She reached up and grabbed a sword from an inattentive Scarle guard, then stood armed and ready to fight. She saw the distraction that had drawn the demon away from her, and recognized at last that it was Alec who was in the red robes running at the demon.

  “Alec!” she screamed. “Alec, you can do it!” she shouted encouragement as she remembered the battle she had seen him fight against three demons in Oyster Bay when they first met.

  Alec reached his encounter with the charging demon just as he heard Jeswyne’s voice. He reached deep inside to find the warrior powers, and felt pain run through his fiber as he called on his energies. The demon swiped at him and he jumped in the air over the claws, swinging his sword below him to bite deep into the monster’s flesh. He landed and rolled away and stood up again. The demon howled in pain and frustration, and tried to tackle Alec; as he jumped away he felt a claw pierce his ankle. He landed awkwardly and rolled again, then stood on one leg. He was alive, but his ankle felt as though it was broken by the demon. The monster was circling him, preparing to attack again.

  The demon jumped, and Alec tried to react. He felt his ankle buckle, and he released his painful grip on his powers. As he fell to the ground in agony, he looked up and saw that the hateful creature hadn’t really attacked, but only feigned a movement. It stood still, observing him as he lay on the ground in agony. Alec knew that he was only seconds away from falling victim to the monster.

  Jeswyne suddenly appeared in Alec’s peripheral vision. She swung her sword soundly at the demon’s backside, and sliced it, causing it to turn and bat her away. Alec saw her body shoot through the air and land on the sand. He said a quick thanks for her effort to help him, and then he saw the malevolent eyes staring at him again. Oh help me Lord, fight this creature of evil, he prayed in the deepest recesses of his mind.

  As he finished the prayer, he heard and saw and felt the world change around him. The crowd suddenly roared, then the demon turned around, looking away from Alec as it screamed in fury, and then the whole world darkened and changed, and he was no longer in the Michian battle arena.

  Chapter 49 – A Third Tea Ceremony

  Alec was lying on the ground in a dark room, looking at a rough stony ceiling high above. His ankle felt whole and pain free. What in the world has happened?, he asked himself aloud.

  “Your prayer has been answered, young friend,” John Mark spoke to him.

  Alec sat up abruptly. “John Mark! Master,” he said more softly. “Thank you. Can you send me back? I have to protect those people from that demon.”

  “The people of Michian have suffered from their demon worship for centuries. Do you think it matters if they suffer this one more time?” the saintly figure asked.

  “It matters. It matters to me,” Alec answered. “The girl matters to me. Killing a demon matters to me. Protecting an emperor who might end the war matters to me,” he told the saint, rising to his knees to implore.

  “You are special Alec, you know that,” John Mark said. “And because you are so special, you may go back.

  “Here,” the saint handed Alec one of the small jars he knew so well. “You remember the rules. You must return here within six days, using this sand from the cave. I will send you back to the arena in Michian to fight your battle, and I will return you through God’s own powers, so that you will not strain yourself using those translocation abilities you have stumbled upon.

  “Best wishes Alec in all that you do. You are beloved by your Father in heaven,” John Mark told him.

  And suddenly Alec was standing back in the bright sunshine on the floor of the tournament arena. In front of him on the far side of the sandy surface he saw Jeswyne hurled aside by the demon, who was standing over him. John Mark had sent him back a few seconds in time, he realized, and he knew what had distracted the demon from killing him – it was his own return.

  Alec summoned his fullest warrior energies and ran at the demon. He was weaponless, but determined. He saw the animal turn to face him, and he saw himself disappear. Alec jumped high, flipped in the air, pushed his hands down on the top of the demon’s head and flipped himself to stand over Jeswyne.

  “Give me your sword, Jess,” he ordered abruptly, and reached down to snatch it. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “Go over to the wall, love, and stay safe,” he said, and then he ran at the demon again.

  The monster was enraged and ready, but Alec had no intention of actually attacking it yet. He swerved widely around it, and stood, taunting it to come after him. The monster did, and Alec put his sword to its fullest use, blocking and redirecting the creature’s attacks as they began to slowly back towards the center of the arena. Alec examined how far they had come, and judged how quickly the demon would move across the floor of the field, preparing to try a new trick.

  As they reached a location Alec judged right, he dropped his warrior powers and translocated himself, disappearing from the demon’s view. He re-appeared directly in front of the Scarle box, causing the inhabitants to scream in fear. Alec quickly scanned the interior, saw what he wanted, and acted.

  With his warrior powers re-engaged, he reached up into the box and jerked a sorcerer out onto the sands of the arena floor. The confused demon heard the reaction to Alec’s appearance, turned, and starting charging towards him when it relocated him. By then though Alec had stabbed his sword through the heart of the sorcerer, killing him, and causing the demon to falter and shrink. Alec reached up again and pulled a Scarle member out onto the sand, then took his sword from him. Wielding a weapon in each hand, Alec charged towards the diminished demon that was running at him. They met and the demon tried to anticipate Alec by jumping high, as he had done so often. This time though Alec had slid low, passing below the demon and slicing his blades upward at it, severing a leg as he came to a stop behind it and stood up.

  The demon was screaming, as was the audience in the arena. As often as they had seen demons in ceremonial activities, none had ever witnessed one in battle, or being bested in battle, and a combination of consternation and hope was evident on virtually every person’s face.

  Alec jumped at the wounded demon and swung his swords in the scissors attack he had learned in the Dominion. As he severed the monster’s head, the body began to disintegrate. Alec knew what would happen next, and he ran over to Jeswyne. “Come with me,” He told her, grabbing her over his shoulder without waiting for a reply. He carried her towards her father’s box, as he saw a cloud of bats rising from the dead demon’s carcass. There was an explosive sound as the greater portion of the monstrous body erupted in flames, and the small cloud of bats began to seek prey among the nearby spectators, biting them and then flying upward to explode.

  Alec stopped in front of the box where the emperor still stood. The guards just looked at Alec without reaction, unable to confront the debacle they had just witnessed. Alec pla
ced Jeswyne on the ground, sending a small dose of healing power into her body to remove the aches and bruises from the demon’s strike. “Your majesty, I wish to reintroduce you to her imperial highness, the Lady Jeswyne,” Alec solemnly pronounced, feeling giddy and impish and slightly hysterical in the wake of the adrenaline that was pumping through his system.

  Emperor Sergey jumped down onto the sands and embraced his daughter in a long hug, one in which Alec could witness the silent tears running down the emperor’s cheeks.

  “Who are you?” Sergey asked again, as he and Jeswyne broke their hug.

  “Father, allow me to introduce Alec the Demonslayer, King of the Dominion,” Jeswyne said with a straight face. “My acquaintance and friend.”

  The guards reacted at last, raising their weapons as they heard Alec’s titles from Jeswyne.

  “At ease,” Sergey said. “If he hasn’t done anything to me yet, what makes you think you could stop him if he wanted to do any of us harm?

  “Thank you, your majesty, for your service this evening. I can’t imagine any way to repay you,” the emperor said.

  “Why don’t we all go to your palace tonight for refreshment, and perhaps we can talk?” Alec replied. “And you might want to send some guards over to arrest those people,” Alec indicated the Scarle boxes on the opposite side of the arena.

  “I don’t know if we can send anyone over through the chaos today, but tomorrow there will be no shortage of volunteers to go to the Scarle compound. I think we’ll have no problem hunting down my brother either,” Sergey said. “For tonight, we shall certainly go to the palace, and many of us would enjoy your company,” he grinned at the acknowledgement of the discomfort that the demonslayer’s presence would cause. “Would you like to be our guest in the palace this evening?”