Awakened

by Ednah Walters

  Ki-yah…ki-yah…ki-yah!

  The sounds drifted from the hallway, and I stepped forward to find their source. They grew louder as I walked past the desk. At the first door, made of oak with a square, clear glass about eye-level, I peeked inside. About twenty or so preteens in black pants and white sleeveless tees were kicking and punching the air. The instructor, a black guy with long curly hair dressed like the students, demonstrated the palm thrusting moves of baguazhang as he walked in a circle. Smooth. I almost clapped.

  I passed three other rooms, each with students sparring, punching and practicing with wooden rods, and each run by a twentyish-looking male instructor. The last one was a meditation class packed with men and women, the yoga mats covering every inch of the floor. I recognized the instructor right away as Mrs. Deveraux, my English teacher.

  Where was Grampa? A psi scan indicated he was nowhere nearby though I picked up at least six strong readings.

  The hallway turned to the right. I peeked from the corner to find a very long, unlit passage that seemed endless. The clang of metal against metal echoed in the darkness. Where was the sound coming from? I couldn’t see any doors. Dark, tight places and I were not compatible. I’d start hyperventilating in seconds and imagine the walls closing in on me. Maybe I’d better wait in the foyer.

  “Lil, didn’t know you’d be here today.”

  Izzy’s cheerful voice reached me from behind, and I turned. She’d changed into black pants and a matching tank top. Soft, black suede boots on her feet.

  “I thought I’d check the place out, maybe start training.”

  “Come on then.” She walked past me and started down the dark hallway without slowing down. “Kenta-daisensei doesn’t like us to be late.”

  A daisensei? I’d never trained with a martial arts master before. “Where are the others?” I asked, not moving an inch.

  “Kim likes to push it, so she’ll be here at exactly four. The guys are here already.” One second she was in front of me, the next she disappeared. I swallowed, my eyes straining to see into the gloom.

  A shaft of light fell into the hallway and I saw her standing by a door. If she hadn’t opened it, I would never have guessed there was one at the end of the hallway. She looked at me and beckoned.

  “Where’s the light switch?” I asked her, raising my voice to be heard above the clashing metal.

  She disappeared, and then light flooded the hallway. I sighed with relief and squinted against the brightness. The walls were white, the floor uncarpeted. Izzy reappeared and gave me an impatient look. I hurried to catch up, the din growing louder and my heart thumping with nervousness the closer I got.

  “Here we go. Welcome.” She stepped inside the room and disappeared somewhere to my left.

  I stayed in the doorway, my gaze drawn to Remy and Sykes sparring with swords. Muscles flexed under their trademark black attire, footwork swift and smooth like a dancer’s. There was something attention-grabbing and drool-worthy about these two guys.

  I gave the training room a sweeping glance. It seemed vast, with no windows but well-lit by glowing orbs dangling from the wooden roof. Unlike the other rooms with padded floors, punching bags and wooden practice weapons, this one had a bare wood floor with a black drawing of the Cardinal amulet dominating the center of the floor. The roof was high, three different levels of beams criss-crossing the space between it and the floor. It was as though someone had planned to add a ceiling but couldn’t decide how high up to put it. The textured white walls had patches of dark stains.

  My attention shifted to the two guys, my gaze volleying between them. They didn’t seem aware of my presence. They were sweating, swords colliding, lifting and connecting again. Remy knocked the sword out of Sykes’ hand. Sykes teleported, snatched his sword before it hit the ground then disappeared again. His laugher drew my attention upward. He was on one of the beams above the floor, grinning. Ah, so that was the purpose of those babies.

  “Didn’t expect that, did you?” Sykes mocked Remy.

  “You want to play hardball?” Remy asked, grinning back.

  “Bring it on.” Sykes teleported to another beam, looked down at me and winked.

  I shook my head. He was such a show-off. My gaze returned to Remy.

  He wrapped a hand around the blade of his sword, and the glistening steel changed its color to a dull brown. The sharp edge rounded, shimmered like a mirage and stretched until it became a long, cylindrical shaft, the end dangling to the floor. In mere seconds, he’d transformed his sword into a scythe with a long chain at its end.

  “Not bad, bro. Now stop wasting time,” Sykes mocked him.

  Remy threw the chain over his shoulder, looped twice under his armpit and across his chest then he teleported to the same beam as Sykes. The fighting sequence that followed left me speechless and apprehensive. Would I ever be that good?

  “Not bad, huh?” a masculine voice said with pride from behind me.

  I turned. The owner of the voice was an older guy, dressed like Remy and Sykes. He wore his black hair long and slinked back, his Asiatic slanted brown eyes glistening. Was this the master trainer? Where was the gray hair, the long beard and the wrinkled skin? On the other hand, Grampa was about three centuries old and didn’t look it.

  I gave him a weak smile and whispered, “Are they trying to kill each other?”

  He laughed. “No. We do combination sparring once a week, that’s when they’re allowed to use their powers. Watch this.”

  I turned to see Sykes raise his hand, declaring a truce, or so I thought. Instead, two energy balls appeared above the palm of his hands, brilliant orbs with a tinge of blue and unlike the demonic omnis. I was still staring in awe when he sent it flying toward Remy. He ducked. The energy ball sailed across the room and hit the wall, leaving a dark stain. No wonder the walls were scarred. By the time I jerked around to watch the guys, Remy’s scythe had become a round gladiator shield which he used to block the balls Sykes kept sending his way.

  The daisensei took a step forward. “Use both hands to create an alpha ball, Sykes. Hold it for as long as you can.”

  Sykes curled his hands as though he was holding an imaginary ball. Light sparked into existence, crackling and swirling. He moved his hands as though he was stroking it. The orb grew big, ribbons of blue and white mingling.

  “Focus and hold it,” the daisensei instructed.

  Dots of sweat appeared on Sykes’s forehead. His arm muscles flexed as he strained to hold on to the energy ball. For the first time, I noticed he wasn’t wearing his workout gloves. The sizzling orb was now all blue, the rays bouncing off the walls. It was going to explode on his face. I took a step back.

  “Now!”

  Sykes thrust his hands forward and sent it sailing across the room toward Remy. The ball gathered momentum the closer it got to him. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he moving out of its path? I looked at the trainer, but he didn’t seem concerned. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the explosion and debris to fly everywhere.

  There was no sound, just a hiss like that of a hot metal dipped in cold water.

  I opened my eyes. Part of the wall was vaporized, leaving behind a gaping hole. Sunlight filtered in through the opening. I glanced at the guys. Remy must have teleported just in time because he looked fine. In fact, he gave Sykes a thumbs-up signal, then picked up the shield he’d been using, walked to the wall and placed it in the middle of the hole. He held it in place with both hands. The metallic sheen changed texture and became grainy, like concrete. It expanded, flowing and shifting until the empty space filled to form a new wall.

  “Well done, guys,” the man beside me told the two trainees then turned and gave me a stiff bow. “I’m Kenta, the daisensei.”

  After what I just saw, maybe I shouldn’t train under Kenta until I’d mastered my powers. “I’m Lil Falcon. I’m supposed to meet my grandfather here.”

  “I know. He ran out to take care of something but should be back any minute.
”

  “Can I wait for him at the front desk?”

  “No. Wait here.”

  He disappeared before I could protest. Great.

  “It’s nice you decided to join us, Lil,” Remy said, walking toward me. He too wasn’t wearing his training gloves. Nothing these guys did made sense.

  Sykes came behind him, his smile lazy as he gave me a once over. “Hey, Red.”

  “Enough with that already.”

  “I like it. When are you going to show us what you can do?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. After your performance, I’m not sure I should.”

  “You’ll be okay,” Remy said. “Come on and suit up. We have some padding if you want them.”

  “And I’m available if you need extra coaching,” Sykes suggested in a low, silky voice.

  Remy scoffed and indicated the room where Izzy had disappeared to. I followed him, entered the rectangular room and stopped in my tracks.

  Holy smokes.

  Every ancient and medieval weapon imaginable vied for space on the walls. I walked forward, touching and studying swords, knives, daggers, staffs, cross-bows and arrows, scythes, whips, boomerangs, ninja weapons, axes, maces, and shields. On a section of a wall in the far back was a pitiful collection of sparring paraphernalia, head gears, gloves and shoes, mouth guards and chest protectors, knee and elbow pads. They looked dusty, like no one had used them in ages.

  When my attention came back to the others, Remy and Sykes were putting their weapons away. Izzy sat on a bench near the door, inspecting a belt of ninja star shurikens and serrated throwing knives. Opposite the bench were three sofas around a coffee table and a large refrigerator. Pegs with hoodies, jackets and gym bag lined the wall behind one of the couches.

  “Look who’s decided to join us?” Kim said in a syrupy voice from behind me.

  “Right back atcha.” I turned around and blushed when I realized she wasn’t alone. Kenta, Mrs. Deveraux and the four men I saw teaching in the other classes were with her. The men all had the same lithe, masculine build as Remy and Sykes.

  Kim gave me a tight mean smile and swept past me.

  “Lil, I believe you’ve already met Azure,” Kenta indicated Mrs. Deveraux, my English lit teacher. “She’s our psi expert and the valley’s most popular yoga instructor. She’ll be your personal trainer. Drake, Jeff, Nero and Zephyr,” he said and pointed at each of the four men, “work with Sykes, Remy, Kim and Izzy. I’m in charge of martial arts, which is incorporated into everyone’s training.”

  I smiled and said, “Nice to meet you,” to the instructors.

  “So,” Kenta pointed at the room, “why don’t you pad up and choose a weapon? Kim will partner you. No powers, just normal sword fight.”

  I could do normal. My main concern was keeping the contents of my stomach where they were and not on the floor. Nervousness had churned my insides into frenzy. Watching Sykes and Remy spar had taken me to another level. I was petrified. What if I humiliated myself?

  I turned and swallowed panic. Kim held an ornate Knight’s Templar sword with ivory grip, cross and crown on the knuckle guard and the ornate blade depicting crusader scenes. The nickel–plated sheath, which she already strapped on, indicated the sword once belonged to royalty. And the way Kim cut the air with ease and confidence showed she was used to wielding it. But the smile on her lips said she couldn’t wait to kick my butt.

  We’ll see about that. All I needed to do was remember every little thing Grampa had ever taught me and I’d be okay. I lifted my chin, walked forward and inspected the displayed pieces—samurai, katana, ninja, medieval. Some were mounted on plaques, others sheathed, but I knew what I wanted, what I was used to. I stopped before the Robin Hood swords and took one down. Wooden grip, the sloping guard engraved with stags and trumpeter angels, and the pommel with its jadeite-like stone in the middle of the cross bore the insignia “Robin of Locksley”. I tested it. Small, light, and very appropriate.

  “Good choice,” Grampa said from behind me.

  I whipped around. He was with Janelle and two others, a tall blond with piercing blue eyes and an Asian-looking lady with hair rolled into a bun in the back of her head. From the way they were packing, they were back from a hunt. Were they here to watch us? My confidence took a nose dive as they disappeared into the training room.

  10. NOSFERATU

  “Kick Kim’s ass for me, okay?” Izzy said as she helped me with a chest guard, but it was obvious she spoke louder so Kim could hear her, too.

  “You wish,” Kim retorted from a few feet away. “Dang it. I can’t believe I have to put on this stupid thing.” She tugged at the last strap on her guard, shot me a mean glance and left the room.

  I shook my head. Kenta-daisensei had insisted we both wear chest protection and gloves, but the way Kim carried on, one would think it was my idea. I never wore a vest when I trained with Grampa, and neither had Remy and Sykes earlier. “Is she always such a bitch?”

  Izzy’s hands stilled. I regretted my question. My mouth tended to run faster than my brain when I was nervous. “Never mind,” I added.

  “The answer is no, she just happens to have a lot on her mind. Maybe once she sweeps the floor with you, she’ll feel better.” Izzy grinned as though she was relishing the thought.

  “Excuse me?”

  Izzy hesitated as though debating how to answer me. She glanced toward the door to the practice room and sighed. “You want to know something?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re part of the reason Kim’s become very driven.”

  I scowled. Izzy moved behind me to adjust the straps in the back. The chest guard was light and snug, but it still felt foreign. “Me? Why?”

  “Did you see the Cardinal who came in with your grandfather?”

  “The man or the woman?”

  “Not the woman. That’s Hsia. The man, Seth, is Kim’s great uncle. He’s a renowned swordsman, started teaching her before she could walk.”

  That wasn’t what I needed to hear now but I didn’t see how he was relevant to why I was the cause of Kim’s nasty mood. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying she needs to impress him. Kim’s family puts a lot of pressure on her. In fact, every generation of Cardinals has had someone from her family, something they’ve come to accept as their right. Why? Because theirs is one of the few families who arrange marriages for their children, an attempt to wipe out human traits from their gene pool. That’s not to say Kim flaunts her lineage over us or anything like that. She’s pretty cool when her family is not pushing her hard. But learning about your powers threw her off loop.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “Because not only will her family expect her to be as good as dear old Seth, they’ll want her to be more powerful than you.”

  “Me? That’s crazy. Why should they care?”

  Izzy came from behind me and gave me an annoyed look. “Your Grampa is the leader of the present Cardinals.”

  I shook my head, still not getting it. “So?”

  “So for three consecutive generations of Guardians, someone from Kim’s family led the Cardinals. That changed when the CT chose Tariel as the leader then your grandfather after Tariel was taken and turned. Do the math.”

  Oh brother. Even among the powerful there was hierarchical crap and battle for supremacy. How lame. I almost felt sorry for Kim. But despite what Izzy had said, Kim did act like she was better than everyone. I’d seen the way she dismissed my human friends.

  “So you, Sykes and Remy are not related to the other Cardinals?”

  “No-oo. We’re all first generation, which is pretty cool. No pressure.”

  “Do you live here with your family?”

  She shook her head, and for a brief second, her brown eyes dimmed and the corners of her lips tilted downwards. “No. When we turned sixteen and our powers appeared, we left Xenith and moved in with foster families. I’ve been staying with Kim’s. But as soon as I finish high sc
hool, I’ll get my own place. Remy and Sykes lucked out. They recently moved into their own place. You’d better go before they send someone to get you. Good luck.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say to ease her sadness. “Thanks, Izzy.”

  She dismissed my words with a wave of her hand. I checked my sword to make sure it was secure in its sheath before I left the weaponry room. Sykes and Remy stood against the southern wall when I entered the practice room. They gave me thumbs up signals and encouraging smiles. The instructors, Grampa and Seth conversed near the entrance door, but Janelle and Hsia had disappeared.

  I walked forward to where Kim waited in the middle of the floor, her hand on the pommel of her sword, her eyes narrowed. I faced her and smiled. She didn’t return my smile. I blew out a breath.

  It was just a spar, not a real fight. Relax. Focus. I repeated the two things Grampa had drilled into me like a mantra and tried to control my breathing. It wasn’t working. Nervousness wound my stomach tight.

  Kenta approached us. “Remember, no use of your powers, just clean sword fight. The instructors are here to make sure no one gets hurt. If you get a cut, Izzy can take care of it. Draw,” Kenta said.

  I pulled out my sword. He placed a guard on its tip, and Kim did likewise with hers.

  Kenta stepped back and raised his hand. “En Garde.”

  Kim angled her sword until the tip pointed at my face. I blinked. I couldn’t believe she was trying to intimidate me by putting me on point. I adjusted my footing, shifting my left foot back until both feet were shoulder width apart. I gripped my sword, elbow close to my body and wrist ready to tilt the sword in a block. Even though Kim’s longer sword offset her petite form, my height gave me an extra range.

  “Go,” Kenta said.

  Kim thrust her blade at me. Clang. I pushed it to the left and shuffled sideway. But in one smooth motion, she disengaged from under and came at me with an over cut. Whoosh. Clang. I warded off the attack, turned the motion into a counterstrike.

  Feint…strike…parry…counterstrike…. The clanging sounds and heavy breathing filled the room. I studied Kim’s style, her footwork and speed, pattern and flow, and tried to find weaknesses. Her movements were smooth, her attacks precise. When I thought I had her pattern pegged, she changed them. She controlled the fight and soon backed me against the wall.