“Last round,” Pax said. “Now, I can get fancy. Niko, don’t hold back. This is it. I’ll take the Sunfire, your old buddy Henry. Evelyn, you can take down the Sanguine. He’s barely holding on. And that leaves Niko with Marjory. You did well against her before. That gives you a psychological advantage.”
Niko nodded. If only he could tap into that Radiance part of his core. Yet, he was in the thick of the fight, adrenaline coursing through him, making it hard to focus. He had to let go. He had to surrender his thoughts and go with his instincts. He sucked in breaths.
Evelyn grabbed his hand, and then Pax’s. they stood there, the three of them, and he felt their friendship. They weren’t simply critique partners, or Battle Artists. Their strange practices, running obstacle courses, leaping over traffic, dodging trains, had bonded them together.
“Artists ready?”
“We so are!” Pax yelled.
“Last round. Let the Artistry conclude in a clear victory!” The Arena Master had changed the verbiage, but his point was clear. It was anyone’s fight.
Timothy stayed back, on the sand on the other side of the ruined road. Marjory and Henry came forward, to protect their weakest member.
Pax used a bit of his precious prana to create a low wall the pair had to leap over. At the same time, Evelyn dashed between them, phasing with her Second Study so their blows—Henry’s flaming fists and Marjory’s manifested staff—went right through her. She went up against Timothy, landing blow after blow, a series of punches and kicks. However fast he was, Evelyn had him, driving him down.
Timothy was on his knees. Evelyn looked like a vengeful angel, standing over him like he was a penitent sinner. She leapt into the air, a slim figure, twisting her body back, her foot flying forward.
“Cooper Ramsey is out! Evelyn Beast, relent!” The Arena Master called it.
It was too late for her to stop. She whirled and sank her foot into the side of Timothy’s head. They heard his neck crack.
Timothy fell onto his face.
Niko didn’t see his sharira levels, he didn’t need to, because the Sanguine was out of the fight. That last kick, however, might have paralyzed him. That shouldn’t happen, not with the Arena Assistant monitoring him, but accidents did happen.
Evelyn gasped, momentarily taken aback by the viciousness of her blows. It was clear she wanted to take it back. Yet, the kick had happened. Timothy lay here.
Fire struck Evelyn’s chest before she could use her Second Study.
“Evelyn Beast is out!” The Arena Master wasn’t going to stop the fight, which meant Timothy wasn’t dead, or that an Assistant had stabilized him.
Pax sped forward, using his Second Study. His sudden burst of speed caught Marjory off guard. He punched her. She hit the sand, her sharira dropping.
She lashed out with her staff, the copper blazing at the tip leaving trails of light. Pax grunted, made a fist, and drew up the pavement and sand to protect himself. Her staff slammed into his piecemeal construct. It was enough to protect him, but barely. Debris sprinkled the sand.
Niko took a second to glance at the scoreboard. Pax was out of prana. And yet, when Henry hurled his fire, Pax ducked, sped over using his Second Study, and socked the Sunfire. Pax fell to his knees. He’d pushed his core too far. He was at zero prana.
Henry struck Pax, laying him out flat with a single punch; the Sunfire’s knuckles blurred with smoke and fire.
“The Peacemaker is out!” the Arena Master shouted.
That was clear. Pax was on his back, gasping, grimacing in agony, and clutching his stomach. His collection of rock and sand dropped down onto Marjory, covering her in detritus.
Niko stood alone at forty-five percent prana, eighty percent sharira.
He didn’t have time to check Henry’s and Marjory’s stats, though both couldn’t have much sharira left, since both had taken direct hits from Pax.
Niko was outnumbered, two to one. Marjory was getting to her feet, and Henry was there, rolling a ball of flames up in his hands.
Niko didn’t pause. He had to use every last bit of prana in him. Second Study first, he raced over and drove a knee into Marjory’s belly. She’d reinforced herself with Anvil Form. She fell but didn’t take much damage. However, Niko lost sharira in the attack. A lot of it.
He didn’t let up, dove, and rolled, right under one of Henry’s fireballs. Niko bounced up, fists raised as if he were going to throw a punch. Instead, he leapt and activated his Twin Damage, this time focusing on his feet. His kick, three feet, hit Henry in his belly, his chest, and his face.
“Darkstar Banks is out!”
Niko whirled to face Marjory.
She tore over and slammed her staff into Niko. It took his sharira, most of it, and he winced, thinking the Arena Master could call him out.
No, but one more hit would finish him.
He faced off with her, fists up, his knee aching from hitting her, and she lashed out with her staff. It was a ruse. The energy dissipated. But she followed it up with her First Study, Steel Slam. Her fists had become solid iron. Even a glancing blow would end him. In the focus of the fight, he saw where the skin on her wrist melted into the metal of her hands.
Niko dodged, keeping his last bit of prana for a final offensive attack. She was weighted down. She was slow. And if she kept her First Study up, she couldn’t use her Second Study.
He had a chance. But only if he caught her off-guard. A distraction would save him.
He reached out, feeling for the Radiance energy in the Arena—the result of the Zenith Spin. He wouldn’t be able to do much since this was outside of his normal technique.
Yet he felt it, the swirl of her prana, her sharira, the intricate play of her energy and her cells. He tweaked it, just a bit, taking a few points of prana and switching them with her sharira.
She felt it. Her hands lost their steel.
“What?” she sputtered.
He drove his feet into her chest. She went rolling backward into the sand.
“Nance Iron out! Niko Black is the victor! All Artists to their corners!”
A blink later, the highway and the sand were gone, and only the tiles remained. The Arena Master and his assistants stormed forward to check on both Timothy and Pax, who weren’t getting up.
Marjory and Henry limped to the far corner.
Evelyn had tears on her face as she joined Niko in their corner.
Niko knelt, hands folded in front of him, bowing. For the first time, he heard the stadium, the screams of protest, the calls for a reversal of the Arena Master’s decision, and above all, one word, chanted over and over, “Cheaters! Cheaters! Cheaters!”
He wasn’t sure what they could mean. Who cheated?
The stadium continued to roar even as the paramedics jogged in with their stretchers, one for Pax and one for Timothy.
The rest of the Artists walked off the tiles, heading for the locker rooms. Teddy and Bonnie were up at the top of the railing, standing over the entrance to the tunnel. Danette and Evelyn continued down into the guts of the stadium.
Niko couldn’t help himself. He charged over and jumped, catching the bottom railing. He clambered up. People were screaming all sorts of things. But he’d learned, people were always screaming things. If you paused to listen to one piece of nonsense, you’d find yourself listening to it all.
Cheaters? He still didn’t understand.
Teddy’s face glowed with his sweaty smile. He danced, he threw his hands up, he wiggled. “You, my friend, you were electricity on two legs. And those Sages? When the Peacemaker pulled out that Second Study, like right out of his ass, I lost it.”
Bonnie grabbed him and kissed him. Teddy pounded him on the back. Victory. This felt like such a victory. He had his friend. He had his girl. And they’d taken down the Premiers.
Again, bittersweet though. Pax had hurt himself, and it might be serious.
Danette emerged from the tunnel. “Niko! We have a meeting with the Arena Master. T
here’s an issue. It seems we were better than they originally planned for. We should go with Pax to the hospital.”
“One second, Danette.” He gripped both Teddy’s and Bonnie’s arms. “Are you guys okay?”
“You go be the awesomeest Artist you are,” Bonnie said. “Teddy and I are fine.”
“No worries, man. It’s my mom’s birthday tonight. There’s cake involved. Like cake is all that important.” Teddy rolled his eyes, kidding. “Bonnie is taking me home. I hate to miss the Andrew J. Coffey match tonight. I like a good Triumvirate.”
“It works out.” Bonnie strummed an invisible guitar on her belly. “I have a gig tonight at the Termination. Early show. Call me.”
“I will.” Niko got serious. “Thanks for coming down.” It was more for Teddy than Bonnie. Teddy was the one who’d been there at the MudCon fight months before.
Teddy grinned and nodded. “We’re doing this. We’re going to get you to the top, Niko. This was a major win. Your So-Me page is blowing up.”
Bonnie tousled Niko’s hair. She made a face. “Ew, sweaty, gross! Us punk rockers only sweat liquid anger and the bitter taste of salty rage. Battle Artists just sweat.”
He pulled her in for another kiss, so sweaty, it almost felt like tears on her face. He should’ve taken it as an omen.
The Deal
ANDREW DIDN’T HAVE time to deal with this garbage, but he wasn’t going to simply let Barton deal with Matthew Gregory, the Arena Master, and the idiotic Sages of the useless Underpass.
They needed to lose. He wanted a third of the take, and that meant he needed to win, and the Unrepresented needed to lose. That was the deal he and Barton had made.
Niko and Danette were there, in a back room, the kid still sweating from the match. He was lucky to be upright. If he and his friends hadn’t used their tricks, that fight would’ve ended very differently. It made Andrew wonder two things: should he have spent more time with the Premiers and done more to train them? And what if he didn’t win his own fight against the Unrepresented in a few hours?
He wanted to get back to Angel Ayunar and Drake Shade, for them to go over their plans, because the day was already so disappointing. For him to lose might be lethal to his career. He thought again of the cambion. He was saving it, hopefully for the fight against LJ Crown at Fright Night at the end of October.
His apothecary was willing to give him some slightly illegal tinctures. Nothing that the LBA would detect. It was fine. He’d be fine. First things first, they had to overturn the Arena Master’s decision.
It was a nice little conference room on the bay side of the stadium. A few boats floated there. The people onboard could live stream the match on the BCBA website. Andrew was dying to know their numbers. There was a good chance that they had earned enough to get YouTube’s attention. And that meant advertising dollars for their next match.
The conference room had polished wood floors, comfortable leather couches, and a bar that was empty for now. It was a nice place for a swank party. Next time, Andrew could rent it out for the victors. As long as the money he wanted was there. It smelled of scented candles though they were unlit.
Despite how comfortable the seating, everyone stood, Andrew and Barton on one side, Niko and Danette on the other. The Arena Artist stood erect in the middle.
Danette stood with her arms crossed. She didn’t look at him, and Andrew didn’t look back. He wasn’t sure if anything had happened between them. There had been a time when he wasn’t as discreet as he was now. And his memory was going. And would she really bring that up here? It wouldn’t solve anything. If she did throw accusations, he could deny them. It would’ve been a long time ago.
Niko looked ready for another fight. Andrew saw it as petulant and stupid. This kid had so much promise. Too bad he’d just ended his career.
The Arena Master stood in her Artist robes, gripping a bottle of water. “This isn’t even a Division Four match—yes, there were some improprieties, and yes, the injuries were unfortunate, but the Sages won in the end.”
Barton had turned silent, pale, glaring. Barton was more dangerous frowning than he was smiling. “Sherri, there’s more at stake here than wins and losses. This is about the BCBA and what we’re going to allow. Matthew, Andrew and I have big plans. This is going to set a precedent.”
Andrew lost control. He popped off. “People could’ve been killed. Where is this Evelyn Beast? Off slinking in a corner? Don’t you think it’s odd she’s not here?”
Niko relaxed himself. Andrew saw it. His posture went from aggressive to passive, and he rested his left hand on his right, as if he were cycling.
Danette fired into Andrew. “She feels terrible about what happened. She would’ve pulled the kick. It was in the thick of the fight. You know what that feels like, don’t you, Andrew?”
“I have control! That’s the problem with you Unrepresented. Your technique is so sloppy, you don’t know what you are doing, and this isn’t a game!” Andrew felt himself shaking. He didn’t care. Or he didn’t care that much. He should let Barton or Matthew do the talking. This wasn’t helping him, and he was spending precious energy. Matthew Gregory wasn’t going to say anything. At this point, he was a puppet dancing on Barton’s strings. Andrew knew that feeling, and he hated it.
Barton wasn’t looking at him, but he knew that the agent wanted him to shut up. Too bad we don’t always get what we want.
The Arena Master was as calm as Niko. “So there are two issues. The one is Evelyn’s unfortunate kick. The other concerns Harmonic Studies, and I have no opinion on the Unrepresented debate. This isn’t my first match. In a League fight, this would go to the Battle Committee for a ruling. As I’ve said, this wasn’t a League fight. I’m inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt.”
Barton’s voice was soft, but full of power. “What about the Peacemaker’s use of a Discordant ability? He didn’t include a Sanguine Study in his bio. And then there’s Niko. He did something to Marjory, something to her core. They were using skills outside of their Battle Signs.”
The Arena Master smiled. “Yes, at this point, that is an issue the LBA is considering. However, Battle Artistry has always been as much about strategy and surprises as it is about technique.”
“The fans loved it,” Danette said. “At least some of them did. This focus on Battle Signs is relatively new. Again, it’s not against the rules. LJ Crown uses Harmonic studies all the time.”
“He’s the exception that proves the rule,” Barton countered.
“What about the Peacemaker damaging his own core to win?” Andrew regretted asking the question. He knew he was going to regret a lot of what he was saying. Some almost forgotten quote from The Pranad came to him. Nothing is more invaluable than restraint of tongue and pen. He hated that book.
“Risks are a part of Artistry,” the Arena Master said calmly. “You should know that, Andrew.”
He did. This whole thing with the level-five cambion proved he was willing to take those risks. Instead, he raged on. “Suicide shouldn’t be a part of the Battle Arts. It comes back to technique, which these Unrepresented don’t have.”
Barton finally glared at Andrew—a vain attempt to keep him quiet.
The Arena Master took in a deep breath. “The Peacemaker did nothing wrong. He used his skills, maybe not wisely, but he used them, and very effectively. Danette is right. His use of the Discordant Study was surprising, and the people loved it. This was for the fans, wasn’t it?” She turned to Matthew Gregory. “The BCBA can decide on future rules for its matches. As for this one, my ruling stands. The Sages won.”
“What about Evelyn Beast’s kick?” Barton asked. “It was clear. You called Timothy down. She attacked anyway. That should disqualify her and her team.”
“We’re going to change the rules, Matthew,” Andrew erupted. “Every Study should be known and announced. Anything else is completely unacceptable.”
“Enough out of you, Andrew,” Barton said quietly. “
That ship has sailed. I want to hear Sherri’s decision on the kick. And of course, it better be the right decision. Otherwise, I might have to make some calls.”
The threat hung in the air. Barton had power, at all levels of the Battle Arts, and Sherri couldn’t afford to have a black mark on her record.
The Arena Master dropped her gaze. “Again, this was an exhibition match. We’re not deciding the future of the Arts here.”
Barton didn’t relent. “The Arts will change one bad decision at a time. And we will be changing the rules for future BCBA matches. But the League guidelines state that any unwise use of prana will end in a disqualification. And that Artists will heed the Master’s commands, for the safety of all. The Sages broke both the letter and the spirit of the League’s guidelines. The Peacemaker twice, once with his use of Discordant skills, the other with his act of self-destruction. And Evelyn Beast should’ve pulled her kick.”
Timothy and this Paxton character were both at the local hospital, getting checked out. Both would be all right, though Timothy came dangerously close to being paralyzed. If the Arena Assistant hadn’t been at the top of their game, his neck would’ve snapped.
Whatever he thought of Evelyn, she used her power with deadly effectiveness. Deadly and recklessly. What really galled Andrew was the Discordant abilities.
The Arena Master stood thinking, clutching the water bottle to her chest.
Danette spoke. “We’ll concede the victory. The Sages will say that we feel so bad about Timothy and the others that we will give up our victory. But we have one condition.”
“You’re in no position to bargain,” Barton said. “We’ll take your concession. It’s big of you.”
“And classier. I’m not threatening anyone.” Danette’s face was serene, and it was clear she wasn’t afraid of the agent.
Barton finally smiled. “I didn’t threaten a single person in his room. I’m here for the Arts, their present state and their future. We’re building something here for the BCBA. Don’t get in the way.”
Sages of the Underpass Page 28
