The Arena (18 page)

W
hen my alarm sounded
, I jumped off the bed. Normally I was not a morning person, but this morning I awoke full of energy. I was going to be battling in the arena this morning, and my body was ready for the challenge. Last night I had slept incredibly well. With my initial fears of failing in the arena put well behind me, I was looking forward to facing off against someone I hated. This was a real chance to put everything I had learned to the test.

I had just enough time left to grab a quick shower and some food before my escort showed up. Just as I finished dressing, there was a knock at the door. I was as ready as I could get. When I opened the door, my escort simply waited until I started to follow her down to the arena floor. Today the battle was going to be faster and more intense; there was a sense of finality in the air. This battle would not be my last if I won, but the stakes felt higher and I was eager to get started.

Positioned in the starting box, I started to stretch again. This time I let my mind wander, trying to relax myself. The one thing that kept coming to the surface was Britta. Movie night was going to be worth the wait. There was just something about her that made me feel comfortable. Watching a movie and relaxing would be the perfect way to kill the stress from the arena battles. I spent the last few moments centering my thoughts while I watched Ted. He was standing in his square, just staring at me. It was kind of creepy really, just seeing him standing there staring at me with murder in his eyes. My initial thought was that he was trying to look intimidating. I had dealt with bullies all my life. He was nothing special. His looks just rolled right off of me. I couldn’t wait to wipe that smug expression off his face.

I barely heard Adam’s voice call out the signal to start the match. I had become so hyper-focused on my opponent, that the command almost didn’t register. Ted walked slowly toward me; every step he took forward oozed arrogance. He was one of those people who tried to make you feel inferior just to prop himself up. For him, it was more about things and power. One of those guys who if you told him you got a new Hyundai, he talked about his brand new Corvette. It was a simple game of one-ups, and I refused to play.

I had to admit I wanted to buy into the myth, that he was just simply better than me. It was much easier than knowing this would be the kind of fight that left you with more than a few bruises. He was six foot three and two hundred and twenty-five pounds of pure muscle. During class, I had watched as he beat another student unconscious. He liked to take risks to try and draw you in, leaving a wide-open hole in his defenses and absorbing the blow so he could land a devastating hit. It was a reckless style that might have worked in school, but would probably leave him dead out in the field.

Was it wrong to smile as you rushed into a fight? I hoped not, because my smile had turned into a rictus grin as I rushed across the arena to meet Ted’s charge. I could see the surprise in his features as we rushed toward each other. Neither of us cast a spell. This was going to come down to pure physical violence. The best man would win, at least I hoped. Most people reflexively pull up short when facing a large person charging at them. I figured Ted would expect this, so I did the opposite. A small burst of speed, and we collided.

The move would have normally been devastating to me—think of running into a brick wall head-first. Right before impact, I covered myself in a shield of dense air. So instead of crashing to the floor dazed, with Ted on top of me, when we hit, he actually flew a few feet backward, landing in a crumpled heap.

He quickly rose back to his feet, shouting, “Nice trick, loser. I wouldn’t expect you to have the balls to stand toe to toe with me.”

“Maybe after you lose, you can tell me all about how that first mouthful of sand tasted.”

With a fierce yell, Ted charged back toward me. Wrapping myself in dense air wouldn’t save me this time; he would be ready for it. This time I cast my version of
scatter
. I didn’t have the spell anywhere near as refined as Marcus, but I could make two of myself appear. As Ted rushed at one of my phantoms, I dropped to the ground and slammed an air-wrapped fist into his knee. I watched as it buckled and he fell to the ground again. I quickly rushed forward, landing a quick double tap to his ribs, followed with a kick to his jaw as he tried to scramble away from me and back to his feet. It was extremely satisfying, watching the blood spray from his mouth as he fell back into the sand.

Not too many people would be getting up from a kick like that. It was a testament to the rage and embarrassment he felt. The thought of losing so quickly to someone like me gave him the strength to find his feet again. Swaying slightly, he launched himself at me again, swinging wildly from the side with a haymaker. I simply ducked away from the punch and landed a few of my own to his ribs. Quickly moving to put distance between us again, I reflected how that punch probably would have knocked me out a few months ago. Now I could see it coming from a mile away.
Thanks, Sarge.

Ted rushed at me again, almost repeating the exact same swing from the other side. I countered with one shot to the ribs this time, before stepping around him and planting my foot in his ass. I let another smile crease my features as Ted landed on his face in the sand. He was too good a fighter to be fighting this poorly, even with the blow I dealt to his head. He was setting me up for something, and I had to be on the lookout for it.

Still, I found myself unable to resist. “It’s not an all-you-can-eat buffet, Ted.”

When he stood up this time, he didn’t charge right in. “You are going to pay for that. You had better hope they can stop this match before I kill you.”

I knew better than to respond to his taunt. I just changed my stance to a more defensive position. Ted launched himself at me with a snarl that would have made any hyena proud. This time, I couldn’t completely dodge the blow, and his fist bounced off my shoulder and into my head. Blinking to clear my vision, I was surprised by how much force he had been able to put behind that punch. A punch that glanced off my shoulder shouldn’t have enough force behind it to have me seeing stars.

We fell into a rhythm of Ted trying to break my defense, and me landing maybe one punch for every five or six of his. None of the punches he threw were making direct contact, but my arms were getting tired of absorbing the blows. Ted finally lost his patience again and tried to lay me out with an uppercut that started down by his knees. I stepped just out of reach, feeling just a tickle as his knuckles scraped by my temple. Letting my movement carry me in a slow half-circle, I sent him sprawling on his face again.

This time I didn’t have the energy for another bout of witty prose. My forearms felt like blocks of lead. Whatever happened next, I had to try and end this fight soon, or I risked losing a battle that I had dominated from the beginning. This time I was surprised when he rolled further away from me instead of attacking again. His unintelligible snarl turned his features into a mask of hatred. The blood dripping from his face mixed with the red sand of the arena floor. It left him looking like some kind of feral Demon. Stepping back from Ted to create distance, I wondered if those snarls were actually the start of some kind of incantation and not just from frustration. There was nothing I could do now to close the distance before whatever he was preparing hit me.

There was no way to have guessed what his spell would do. The words and snarls stopped, and a sword of pure blue light appeared in Ted’s hand. That wasn’t strictly legal for an arena match, but I was under no illusions about what it meant. There was no way either of the referees could reach me before he cut me apart. I could see them shouting and running toward us from the corner of my eye. Ted wouldn’t be stopped so easily, though. Again he rushed toward me, and I felt a sense of dread fall over me.

As he ran toward me, sword lifted above his head for a killing blow, he tossed a vial toward my feet. The small bottle cracked at my feet, letting out a shimmering red light. Dropping to my knees, I created the strongest shield around myself that I could. I tried to double my shield’s strength, and then I doubled it again. I put all of my power into it, and still had no idea if it would even stop his magical blade. I poured as much air as I could into the space between the shield and myself. If my shield didn’t hold, I hoped to turn the blade with the force of the air.

The first strike of the sword bounced harmlessly off my shield, filling me with confidence that I could still win. The respite also gave me a chance to look around and try and figure out what the vial had accomplished. Everything outside of the twenty-foot circle around us was moving in slow motion. I watched as the referees sprinted toward us; each step seemed to take a lifetime. There was little hope of them reaching us before Ted found a way to hammer through my shield.

The next hit broke through my outer defenses. Luckily, I managed to turn the next strike to the side with the air magic I had stored. This gave me enough time to recast my shield. A few more hits, and Ted would break through, ending my life. A quick glance confirmed that there was still no way that anyone would reach us in time to save me. I could feel despair starting to creep into my thoughts. Had I really survived all of this just to be killed by some arrogant douchebag? I didn’t know what else to do to stop what was going to happen. The outcome felt inevitable. I reached inside of my shirt and grabbed my father’s necklace. I felt the energy rushing through me, filling me to the point of bursting. I focused all of it into my shield, my last line of defense. I felt the energy explode, and my shield burst in a rush of power, flowing outward from my body. Before I fell into unconsciousness, my last thought was of my parents, and how I would get to see both of them again soon.

I
t was dark
, but the battlefield was darker. Spots of blood and ichor decorated the landscape around us. What was left of the witch known as the Spider Queen lay at our feet. Every Demon that had surrounded us was destroyed by the shockwave of my last spell. Sarah had shifted back into her human form, instantly healing from her wounds. I covered her naked body with my cloak, smiling as I did, knowing that this time I was simply doing it to keep her warm and not for propriety. I held her tightly in my arms, and we kissed for the first time. Wiping tears from her eyes, leaving streaks of dirt on her otherwise pristine face, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Light sparkled from her eyes when she looked back at me. Anything she asked of me, I would do without hesitation. I had finally lost whatever had been holding me back; I was in love. To hell with the Council; she was mine!

* * *

S
tanding firmly
in the center of my circle of power, I wondered for the first time if I had made a mistake. Voices spoke to me from the darkness, asking me to join with them. The cries for help and the visions of torture quickly clouded my mind. If this was what hell was, surely I shouldn’t be here. My first attempt at summoning a Demon was going nothing like I planned. Maybe I had overestimated my power and traveled further into the pit than I should have. The warlock had made it sound so easy. If he had set me up and I lived, then it was time to pay him another visit. Slowly, the darkness around me faded, and a naked woman appeared out of a thin red mist. She whispered sweetly into the air; her voice penetrated my circle of power with ease.

The silky sound of her voice made me want to do whatever she asked of me. “I will do this favor for you, but one day I will call on you to do something for me.” The Demon before me was a dealer, and something that, even at two hundred years of age, I wasn’t prepared to handle. She pulled me into her sweet embrace, and our deal was sealed by our passion.

* * *

I
could feel
the densely packed sand under my knees give way as the sword blows rained down on me from above. My opponent was merciless in his attacks. The strength he put behind each swing seemed only to grow; the strikes against me felt endless. One by one, my shields fell under his relentless attack. There was nothing I could do except pray for help that would never reach me fast enough. Instead of giving up, I reached out for the spirit of my father. I felt his presence in the necklace he had left for me. The necklace filled me with knowledge of what to do. Pushing all of my strength into my shield, I watched as the force of the spell blasted my shield outward. The look on Ted’s face as his sword disintegrated was priceless. His look of surprise only lasted for a split second before the wall of energy swept through him as well, leaving nothing behind but a pile of ash. I shuddered as I realized what had just happened. All that was left of Ted was the broken glass of the vial he had thrown at my feet.

* * *

I
was chanting
in a powerful circle of Demons, watching as a small pool of blackness bubbled up from the ground. The liquid darkness flowed out of the pit until it reached the very edges of our pentagram. If we had been weaker, the inky blackness would have swallowed us, dragging us back to hell. A smile broke out on my face as the spell took hold, and I knew we had succeeded. The smile fell from my lips as a head started to emerge from the inky black liquid. The face of a beautiful woman appeared as the dark liquid rolled off her pure white skin. She was gorgeous in the way that screamed only danger. Every one of her movements conveyed a sense of ruthless power. Her dark and smoky hair fell just past her shoulders. Her breasts and hips spoke only of seduction. She was Shiva reborn, a goddess from the depths of hell. The voice had only one purpose on this plane. She would raise the Demons from the depths and reshape this world in their image.

* * *

I
heard
someone gently calling my name as the dreams faded. “Jackson, are you awake? Are you ok? Can you hear me?”

My eyes fought to stay closed when I tried to open them, but eventually I succeeded. The room was so bright, I blinked a few times, and the face leaning over me came into focus. April was sitting on the edge of the couch, looking down on me. Concern and worry creased her features. If I was alive, then her concern was probably justified. I must look pretty bad to have earned that kind of attention.

For the first time, it dawned on me that I wasn’t in the arena. The old leather couch underneath me crackled as I moved. I didn’t recognize the room we were in, but having a friendly face there when I woke up helped. The smile wouldn’t go past my lips. Every muscle in my face hurt from the few vicious shots Ted had actually landed. My arms ached when I reached out to put a hand on her leg. That’s when it hit me. Oh my God, Ted, where was he? I tried to scramble off of the couch, but April held me in place.

My voice sounded raspy and hoarse. “April, where am I?”

Before she could answer, a man’s voice spoke from behind her. “You are in my study, Jackson. April, can you leave us for a moment so Jackson and I can speak alone?”

The look on her face was all I needed to feel better. I could see how much she wanted to stay to make sure I was ok. I gave her hand a squeeze to let her know it was all right. I watched her as she walked toward the door.

When she reached the door, she looked back over her shoulder. “I’ll be right outside.”

The man I still had not seen spoke again. “It’s ok, my dear. Jackson isn’t in any kind of trouble. You and your friend Marcus can come back to visit soon. See if you can find that dark-haired girl. Bring her as well. She has spent just about as much time fretting around here as you two have.”

Was he talking about, was the dark-haired girl Britta? I still wasn’t sure what was going on, but I felt better knowing that my friends had come to see me. There was something to be said for having people who would come visit you when you were injured.

When the door closed, the man walked around from behind the couch I was lying on. I couldn’t believe who it was. Adam was standing in front of me. He was a mythical figure around the academy. I had never seen him until I set foot in the arena. Now he was standing in front of me looking down on me as if we were old friends. I knew half the kids in school would die to be having this moment right now. For me, it just felt surreal. Was I really here? The leader of the Ascendancy, the top dog, the man I wanted to work for, and I was lying on his couch.

This closeness gave me a chance to take in his features. He had a weathered look about him, like he had spent many years in the sun or out in the wind. It looked to me like he was in his mid-sixties, but from what Marcus said, he was much, much older. The stories I had heard placed his age at closer to a thousand years. In the line of work he was in, that seemed pretty darn impressive. While the Gifted were blessed with the ability to live longer lives, battle was a way of life for them, so they often died young. His soft white hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a healthy growth of pure white stubble graced his face. He was dressed in the white loose-fitting fighting garb the Ascended had worn in the arena. Based on his age and his position, I had to assume I was lying in front of one of the most powerful Gifted on the planet.

Adam motioned for me to sit up as he sat in a chair across from me. I had so many questions, but I sat back and waited for Adam to tell me what was going on. It took every ounce of willpower that I had not to jump in and just ask everything that I wanted to know all at once.

Thankfully Adam took pity on me and started speaking. His voice came out soft and reassuring. “Jackson, we haven’t formally met yet, but my name is Adam. I’d like to start by apologizing to you for the interesting time you have spent with us so far. I would say that your experience has been atypical to say the least. Things have moved much faster than I would have thought possible.”

He sat back into his chair and continued speaking. “Eighteen years ago, the Council sent men to attack us. Our power here had been growing, and our continued alliance with the Lycans, despite the Council’s decree, made them nervous. I had thought that they would not dare reach so far, but I was wrong. The deaths that happened that day still weigh heavily upon me.”

Adam had let a small bit of sadness creep into his features. It faded from his face but remained in his voice when he spoke. “Prophecy is a tricky thing, Jackson; those who let it rule them often create what was foretold. There is no question now. You are the chosen one, Jackson; our hopes of defeating the Demons lie within you.”

I almost laughed out loud. That seemed just a little bit too ridiculous to be true. It had only been a few months since I’d found out that I was one of the Gifted. That I had been born with the ability to control magic—and now I was the chosen one? “The chosen one, sir?” was all I managed to stammer out.

The sadness completely faded from Adam’s voice. It was replaced with pure confidence. “I know this seems like a lot to take in. There is no doubt in my mind that you are the chosen one. I choose not to believe that you would ever become the destroyer. Like I said, prophecy is a tricky thing. Often there is more than one path laid out that could lead us to our destiny.”

Destroyer—well, that sounded ominous. I wondered what it would take to lead me down the path to the dark side. Probably better not to think of it at all. It didn’t seem like there was a lot of grey area there: the chosen one or the destroyer. I was going to need more to go on than vague innuendo.

“Adam, I am going to need more than what you are telling me now. I just woke up from the craziest dream I have ever had, to you telling me I’m the chosen one. Not to mention I don’t even know how I got here or what happened in the arena. Let’s not forget the part where I could also be the destroyer. That seems like a lot to throw at someone who just woke up from a fevered dream.”