Chapter 25: Chapter 25

AMY

Izzy stood shivering next to her as Amy watched Mikhlas and Silian walk behind a hoverbot toward the lower levels of the battle grid. She felt glad she’d packed her Glock, the weight of it comforting in her clutch.

Jounan turned out to be a tall, blue, intimidating-looking alien who arrived within moments, took one look at the name and ranking of Mikhlas, and pronounced his challenge.

Mikhlas had simply nodded and turned to Izzy, passing her a small handful of credsticks wrapped up with a slip of paper before leaving without a word.

“What now?” Izzy asked.

“I guess we find ourselves some seats and hope those two don’t get killed,” she said.

“If you ladies would follow me?”

Amy looked around. Another hoverbot waited for them a few feet away.

“Where are we going?” she asked the machine.

“Seats have been arranged for you in the upper deck bar. The Silian versus Gronar match will take place in the small arena below.”

~Damn it, not that fucking floor again. I hope that bitch Kasana has left.~ “I guess we’d better follow the bot,” she said to Izzy, giving her smaller friend a reassuring smile.

Izzy looked on the verge of saying something when she cocked her head. “Prime?”

Amy waited as the one-sided conversation played out, Izzy whispering to herself and looking around to see if anyone stood close enough to hear.

“Prime says the battle grid has moved out of the range of the nanite jammers that were interfering. She can take us back to the ship.”

“What about Mikhlas and Silian?” Amy asked.

Izzy shook her head. “She won’t do it. They have both been challenged.”

“I’m not going without Silian,” Amy said, crossing her arms.

“I agree. Prime, only take us back if you think we are in danger. Keep an eye out for us, please.”

~Well, that’s a relief,~ Amy thought as they reached the top of the travel lane and saw the bar in the distance.

“Do you think they’ll be hurt?” Izzy asked as they set off after the hovering bot.

Amy shook her head. “They’ll be fine. You haven’t seen Silian fight, and from what I gather, Mikhlas is even better.”

Izzy bit her lip. “I…hope so.”

“What?”

“I really like him, Amy. In fact, I think I’m falling for him, but things between us are weird.”

“Weird how?”

“He thinks he isn’t good enough for me. You saw how he walked away. He barely looked at me. We were talking about these roles in the Realm, what it means to be the queen, and who I will have around me I can trust.”

“And?”

“And I want him around. But he’s just a captain,” he said. “I asked if he could be my Doge, and he said the Sentinels would never agree.”

“I think he thought I was just asking hypothetically, but I really meant it. I do trust him, and I think he likes me too.”

“Well, let’s just get past today and see what happens, babe,” Amy replied as they reached the doors of the bar. ~Great, no sign of that Kasana bitch.~

She studiously ignored the floor, staring at the other side of the bar, where the distinctive shape of Vayth appeared to wait for them.

“Darlings, oh, you must be in a state. Come on over,” the thrown voice of Vayth was enough of a distraction that Amy could ignore the floor this time and march over, practically dragging Izzy in her wake.

“Where’s that bitch?” she asked him.

“Well, I have no idea what that is, but if you are referring to Lady Kasana, she left in a huff, and I hope your epithet is suitably derogatory.”

“Do you think they’ll be okay, Vayth?”

The Clulph looked up at Izzy. “People normally pay me for my opinion on the outcome of fights. Oh, not for any mystical reason, just that I am a consummate judge of ability.”

“Here,” Izzy said, holding out the little bundle of credsticks. “Please tell me what you think is going to happen.”

Vayth eyed the small bundle and held out a rudimentary limb. “That’s rather a lot,” he said, taking the bundle carefully and unwrapping the sticks. “I was going to tell you anyway—”

Amy frowned as Vayth stopped in shock, his tail making a loud farting noise and stared at the slip of paper. Amy slipped her hand inside her clutch around the comforting grip of her pistol. “What is it, Vayth?”

Vayth looked around, eyes darting in all directions. “It’s a note. It says ‘Dakira Izzy, use these and take a tujs out of the range of the nanite jammers and head back to the ship.’

“I know what Dakira means. One of you is the Chosen One?” he whispered. “I’d bow, Your Majesty, but I now understand the need for masks and disguises. I…ahh, I’m sorry if anything I said offended you earlier.”

Izzy just waved a hand, as it wasn’t important. “Just tell me what you think will happen. Please?”

“Oh, my dear. Sit, please sit, of course I will tell you. Gronar is no competition for Silian. That upstart Bolith relies on his speed and ferocity, and it’s held him in good stead so far.

“Yet Silian strikes me as the sort of fighter who prefers using his brain. As for Mikhlas and Jounan, I’m afraid that is too close to call.

“Jounan is a very experienced fighter, and as the challenger, he can determine the rules of the fight. Let us hope that Jounan only wishes to fight to first blood.”

The bar began to fill as more patrons, of every size and shape, entered the room.

One wall changed, instead of displaying other matches, to show Silian and Gronar and betting odds. Surprisingly, the odds favored Gronar, if only slightly.

Vayth looked down at the small credsticks Izzy gave him earlier. He placed them on the bar and motioned to the barman. Amy couldn’t hear what he said, but Quarma came over and took about half the credsticks away.

“You’re making a bet?”

Vayth shrugged. “Something has to keep the church running.”

“You’re an odd priest,” Amy said, sitting down in the comfortable chair again. “Do you even run any services?”

“If I’m drunk enough,” Vayth admitted. “Oh, look, they are entering.”

Amy glanced down at the floor and then regretted it. She lifted her gaze and found a screen showing the arena from a different viewpoint. She saw Silian stretching his long limbs as Gronar entered.

The Bolith now wore a set of glowing armor plates that covered his torso, leaving his upper arms bare, and heavy-looking gauntlets on his hands.

Numerous weapons were strapped to his wide frame, even some on his back as he lifted his arms into the air and spun about, the crowd in the bar cheering on the favorite.

Silian simply stood with hands on hips, head cocked to one side, waiting for the Bolith to finish pandering to the crowd.

The walls of the arena glowed blue for a second, and then a mechanized voice could be heard as there was a rush of patrons in the bar to place bets.

“Gronar challenged Silian. Challenger. What is the nature of the bout?”

“Gronar fight to first blood!” the Bolith yelled, shaking his fists in the air.

“He’s gone the safe option,” Vayth said, picking up a freshly delivered drink from the bar. “He doesn’t know how good his opponent is, and the higher ranking of Silian worries him. Amazing. He isn’t as stupid as he looks.”

Silian just yawned theatrically as the bout information became updated on the screens in the bar.

“Defender. Any adjustments to the battle zone?”

Amy could practically see the smile despite the mask.

“Electrify the walls,” Silian said.

An ooh rose from the crowd in the bar as the walls of the arena below sparked for a moment.

Even through the glass, Amy could hear the electrical hum and felt her heart rate increase. ~He’ll be fine. He knows what he’s doing. Don’t die, Silian. I haven’t finished with you yet.~

“Fight will commence on my mark,” the mechanical voice intoned as Gronar took a massive ax off his hip and held it negligently in one hand. He grunted several times and set his feet in the sand.

Silian didn’t move, still standing in that arrogant way with his hands on his hips as if his opponent didn’t matter in the slightest.

“Three…two…one…Mark!”

With a roar, Gronar burst into flame, and Amy jerked. “What the fuck!” The Bolith raced forward, trailing drops of burning liquid from his limbs.

“Old Bolith trick. They secrete a flammable liquid from their skin,” Vayth said, taking a sip of his drink.

Amy clenched her hands tight as Silian still hadn’t moved. ~What is he doing?~

As Gronar got within ten feet, Silian spun, one leg spinning out toward his opponent, sending a plume of sand that struck the Bolith in the face, dampening the flames.

As he twisted out of his spin, she saw that the force projectors on his arms were now activated—one a large glowing tower shield, and the other a heavy-looking hammer.

Gronar’s charge faltered for a half second, and that was all the time Silian needed to swing the glowing force hammer hard.

The head of the hammer impacted right on Gronar’s hand, smashing the ax away to land against the wall where it sparked and smoked.

Gronar lowered his head, arms going wide, intending to crush himself against Silian with his burning form and let his fire burn him. But Silian drove the point of his shield into the sand and took a knee.

With a metallic crunch, the heavy form of Gronar impacted like a car going forty miles an hour, pushing Silian back toward the electrified wall.

With a grunt, Silian levered his shield toward himself, removing the support until the Bolith stumbled forward, then with a move he made look easy, tucked himself into a ball and brought his feet to the underside of the shield.

With a quick heave, Gronar soared over his head, crashing to the electrified wall, screaming.

Silian flicked himself up to his feet in one quick move, tilting his head to one side and watching as Gronar convulsed, arcs of electricity sparking across his metallic armor.

Once Gronar’s flames stopped, Silian stepped forward, force hammer coming into play once more, and casually swatted Gronar away from the wall.

The Bolith slid ten feet across the sand, another weapon on his back clattering against the wall like the ax.

Amy winced at the power of the blow. She could see a dent in the metal that covered Gronar’s back.

The Bolith growled, looking back as Silian casually walked toward him, and then rolled to his knees, pulling some kind of projectile weapon.

Heart in her throat, she watched as Silian used the shield in one hand to block the blazing projectiles, his other hand behind him. The hammer changed, the head rounding into a ball joined by a cable to the haft.

Held behind his body, Gronar could not see it, and the crowd shouted out to warn the favorite.

But from within the arena, it could not be heard, and Silian flicked the ball around his shield in a graceful and precise move that struck the gun.

It exploded, shoving Gronar back even more toward the center of the arena, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, and his eyes rolled up into his head.

Silian walked forward, shaking his forearms, and the force weapons were pulled back into the gauntlets. “Is the challenger cut?” he asked.

“No blood is yet spilled, Defender.”

“Good.”

With lightning-fast movements of his legs, Silian used his heavy metal boots to kick the remaining weapons away from Gronar as the crowd in the bar grew silent.

Standing at the side of the semi-conscious Bolith, Silian used his force projectors to form the hammer once again and took the weapon in both hands.

“You are an idiot for challenging me, Gronar,” Silian said before bringing the weapon down on his right knee.

With an audible crunch, the limb broke, bending the other way entirely, but without breaking the skin.

Gronar woke from the pain, his mouth opening and closing and trying to draw a deep enough breath to scream.

“Yet I’m going to use you as an object lesson,” Silian said as the hammer came down a second time, this time against the shoulder with another audible crunch.

Gronar screamed long and loud, the sound echoing off the walls of the arena.

“Is the challenger cut?”

“No, Defender.”

“I’m not here to fight for the pleasure of others, or try to compete for glory and honor.”

Crunch. Gronar continued screaming, his voice becoming hoarse and weak.

“I don’t want any more fools to think I am an easy victory.”

~Crunch~.

“My ranking is far below my skill level.”

~Crunch~.

“And I will not compete for a higher ranking.”

~Crunch~.

The silence in the bar was absolute. Amy had known he would win, but the studied violence of the man was astonishing.

“No one will ever challenge him again,” Vayth said, his eyes wide. “He’s just made himself too tough a nut to crack.”

With a flick of his wrist, the hammer changed to a thin blade as Silian squatted next to the broken form of his opponent.

Gronar’s eyes grew wide, he tried to speak, but nothing came out except a breathy whistle. Amy could see from his eyes he thought Silian would drive the knife into his chest and kill him.

Instead, Silian looked up at the camera. “Lesson eight: Sometimes to win, you must lose.”

With a careful move, he pressed the tip of his blade against his smallest finger and nicked the skin, holding his hand out over Gronar’s face and allowing his blood to drip down.

“Defender is cut. First blood to challenger. Gronar wins.”

“Enjoy your victory, Gronar,” Silian said as he stood and walked back toward the doorway from which he’d come. “I know I did.”

With a huge release of pent-up breath, Amy relaxed. “He’s…He’s,” She didn’t know what to say. When he looked at the camera and said “lesson eight,” she knew he spoke directly to her.

On one hand, she knew he could have won the bout in the first five seconds and cut Gronar before he could react. On the other hand, she knew Vayth called it. By doing it this way, he’d never have to fight like this again.

~Because although he’s good at it, he doesn’t want to fight. How can he be such a tough guy and a softie all at the same time?~

“He’s an asshole,” Vayth said with a sour twist to his words.

Amy glared at Vayth, who ignored her and upended the last of his drink.

“Why?” Izzy asked. Amy took a close look at Izzy. She wasn’t doing well. The violence of the fight meant she hugged her arms, and her eyes looked a little wild.

The Carillion behind her ear swayed back and forth as if looking for a target on which to vent. ~Oh no, and Silian was just playing with Gronar. When Mikhlas fights, it’ll be serious.~

“Because he just lost you half your credits.”