> “James Laurel presented his late uncle’s token at our latest meeting and demanded the First Seat of the Orange Table. The boy has borne much hardship, having also lost his father on the ill-fated western expedition. More remarkably, he personally retrieved the gold coin and brought back many personal effects of the other members lost. James is the kind of stock we desperately need in our ranks, but I worry he will carry an animus that will not easily be extinguished.”
My footsteps echoed on the parquet floor as I approached the four sets of risers that had been assembled in a square at the other end of the hall. It was as if we were all here for a pickup basketball game and not a magical battle royale. I entered the enclosure to find a large circular mat had been laid down in the middle. It all looked so … casual that, for a moment, I forgot what we were doing here.
Dalia and Ty wandered over to the nearest riser and sat down in the front row. They were soon joined by the third member of their Table, who had managed to clean up at least some of the dirt from his clothing and body for the occasion. The rest of us shuffled over to where our respective Tables were usually seated and we all stared at each other in silence until J.P. knocked his cane against the wooden bench and stood.
“I move to begin the Trial,” he said.
“Seconded,” said Dalia.
“The motion carries,” said Ty. “Will our champions please step forward and present their Relics?”
I opened up my case to pull out Curtana, drawing a chorus of whispers from the other members. Emma, meanwhile, reached both hands into her bag and pulled out her two weapons with a flourish. We both walked into the circle and I tried my hardest not to look at Emma, but failed miserably. Her left hand held the giant sword and her right was adorned with the familiar auragen rings. With it, she gripped the horrible dagger that had prematurely aged Steve, although I wasn’t sure how, as her fingers looked like they might crack into a thousand pieces.
“You first,” she said to me.
“Curtana, the Sword of Mercy,” I shouted and several Guild members gasped. I didn’t know whether to hold it aloft like Excalibur or do a short demonstration of my martial prowess, so instead I just stood there, waiting for someone to tell me I was disqualified.
“Young lady,” said Kildare. “Wherever did you get that magnificent weapon? My own records indicate it has been missing for some time.”
“It’s, umm, a long story,” I said.
“But yet, a story we must hear,” said J.P. “Who’s to say you and your patron didn’t just fashion a replica? That would violate the clear rules of-”
“Oh shove it,” said Emma. “I know it’s real. You don’t need druithyl to see that.”
“Trust, but verify,” said J.P. “I will not lose this trial because you-”
“Now you’re the one fighting?” said Emma. “By all means, take my place.”
“That’s not what-”
“Enough,” said Dalia. “This squabbling is beneath all of us. If you would like to challenge the provenance of Ms. Jacobs’s Relic, then say so.”
“I … it’s fine,” said J.P. “If it’s not the real deal, this battle will be over even sooner.”
“We shall see, won’t we?” said Dalia. “Now, Ms. Patel, if you please.”
Emma nodded and held up her Relics.
“The Dyrnwyn, White Hilt!” she yelled, as if she was leading a war party. “And, Solais, the Sword of Light!”
She knocked both blades together above her head, releasing a blinding flash of light that enveloped the mini-arena for a moment. When the proverbial dust had settled, the sullen Emma was gone and in her place was a woman who looked determined to run me through with one or both Relics.
“Excellent,” said Dalia. “Now, before we begin, we will set the terms of the-”
“Point of order, Madam Chair,” said J.P., tapping his cane yet again, before sidling down the stairs to the parquet floor. “I believe your Champion is making use of an illegal substance, and I move for an immediate disqualification.”
Dalia considered the latest wrinkle and glanced around the room to see if J.P.’s interruption had gained purchase before responding with a gruff sigh.
“What now?”
“Ms. Jacobs’s arms,” he said. “They are covered in-”
“-tattoos, yes I know. Anyone can see that,” said Dalia.
“And anyone can see that these are no ordinary tattoos. They are imbued with-”
“-mind and body-enhancing properties, yes, we know,” said Emma, of all people. “Don’t care. I’ll still beat her.”
“No matter how confident you are, my dear, there is protocol and precedent that must be followed,” said J.P. “And that forbids outside enhancement, so unless Ms. Jacobs can remove them in the next five minutes, I’m afraid the match will be forfeit.”
I slammed Curtana into the ground, and all eyes suddenly focused on me.
“I’m ready to fight,” I said. “Emma’s ready to fight. The only one who doesn’t want this match to start is you, it seems. If you’d like to come down here and fight me, by all means, but I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”
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I turned my back to him and walked toward the Breuckelen side of the ring as a cavalcade of whispers spread throughout the makeshift arena. Finally, just as I was about to sit down next to D.C. and Lucca, I heard that familiar tapping sound.
“I withdraw my objection,” said J.P.
I smiled and tried to savor the minor battle I had won, but the moment was fleeting.
“Excellent,” said Dalia. “Now, as I was saying, we shall set the terms of the match. In addition to the Chair, I will claim, for the Guild, the vial of Dragon’s blood that Ms. Patel still hopefully has in her possession, should Jen prevail.”
“That’s it?” asked J.P. “I was expecting a bigger ask. But your mistake. Should Emma prevail and I take the Chair, I will demand the forfeiture of the Second Seat of the New Amsterdam Table.”
“You want my Seat?” asked Ty. “You’ll have to come and take it from my-”
“Agreed,” said Dalia.
“You’re joking, right?” said Ty. “You’re going to let him kick me to the curb like a stray-”
“Hush, child,” said Dalia. “They’re my terms to set. Now that that’s settled, we can finally begin.”
Ty glared at her mother in disbelief, but received no acknowledgement in return.
“Fine. Champions, to their marks,” she said.
I returned to my spot next to Emma, and we assumed our opening stances.
“Allez!”
I shifted my weight back and forth on the balls of my feet, waiting for my opponent to make the first move. But instead of attacking, Emma calmly sat down on her knees and perched her Relics on her lap. She then closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as if she was meditating at a yoga class and not in a battle for honor and glory. It was completely unnerving, and I didn’t know whether to lunge at her or adopt a similar pose.
I considered using the entirety of my final speed rune. It would only last three seconds of real-time, but it would be enough to knock her out and end this before it could even start. But a tiny sliver of doubt stopped me. Perhaps J.P.’s objection had all been a show, accusing me of cheating when it was Emma who had a speed buff tucked away in her cheek. With that, she could easily dodge all of my attacks and my one trump card would be gone.
So I hesitated, and in that moment, Emma pounced. She launched herself up from the ground in a somersault, and came at me with both weapons extended outward, like a human spear. But I was ready. Just as I had practiced, I sped things up for an instant, allowing me to parry her blades away with a flurry of horizontal swipes. She retreated, and then lunged at me a second time in a circular rotation led by her sword. I sped up time once more, deflecting her sword and then her dagger one after the other as Emma twirled her body back and forth, and again she relented.
But when she came at me for a third time, I made my opening move.
I planted Curtana in the ground like a flagpole and used it to swing my body upward, kicking Emma square in the chest with a burst of strength that sent her staggering backward.
The victory was short-lived, however, as Emma spit a mouthful of blood onto the mat and then threw White Hilt at me. I knocked it away with ease, but at the expense of another microsecond of speed, and she snatched the dagger from the ground with her auragen tether.
“Impressive,” she said. “Even with those tattoos, I didn’t expect you to last this long.”
“I’m just getting started,” I said.
“So am I,” she said and without taking a breath, flicked White Hilt at me in a sidearm motion. This time I ducked, barely dodging the spinning blade, but when I stood back up, Emma was already inches away from me and I felt something hit me hard in the gut. I looked down, expecting to see the sword stuck in my stomach, but instead, it was only its hilt.
“What…” I said, trying to stay upright, but the pain was almost too much to bear and I braced myself on Curtana to avoid falling over. And that’s when I saw her left hand begin to wobble back and forth, which could only mean one thing.
With no idea how close the dagger was to impaling me from behind, I did the only thing I could do in the moment: I cross-checked Emma with Curtana, driving us both to the ground.
“Almost had you,” she said with a wink, as she pushed me off of her and I quickly retreated.
Now it was my turn to go on the offensive. With barely any green left on my arm, I switched to my back-up plan, the focus-strength combo. A list of moves flashed through my mind and I selected one as if I was playing a video game, only I was the character being controlled.
I let out a cry and launched a barrage of horizontal strikes at Emma’s head. But each time the blade was about to make contact, she either dodged to the side or deflected it with one of her own. She blocked everything I threw at her, even escaping unscathed as I executed the twirling strike that Beatrice had first shown me. My frustration grew with each failed attack, until finally I charged her straight on, like a pole vaulter running toward the take-off point. But Emma was ready, and she sidestepped me with ease, before jabbing me with the butt of Solais in the back, sending me flailing to the ground.
“Pathetic,” she said. “Like you copied everything right out of a book into your head. No creativity, no improvisation. Do you want to try again, or will you just concede?”
“No,” I said, pushing myself up. “I’m going to win.”
“In what reality?” said Emma. “I can do this all day. And you’ll be out of your magic ink well before I even break a sweat.”
I charged her once more, but she easily blocked Curtana with the blade of Solais, releasing another flash of light and sending reverberations through my Relic up my arms. I tried a low swipe at her legs, but thanks to the Sword of Light, I could hardly see. Emma easily jumped over my clumsy attack and returned a counter at me, which I barely avoided, before tripping and falling backward on my ass.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “After this is all over, there won’t be any hard feelings. Kicking the crap out of you in front of everyone will be a sweet revenge for what you did to me in Boston.”
I knew she was trying to bait me, but I didn’t care. And although I could have kept holding on to that last bit of speed, I needed to send a message.
The green rune on my right arm glowed, and I let it all go. The Guild, the expectations, the consequences, everything. Emma stood as still as a statue two yards in front of me. Maybe she had noticed what I was doing, but it wouldn’t matter, because her Relics would be useless against me. As I got close and saw the current state of her hand, it became clear how much she was holding back the pain, and I marveled that she fought with such prowess despite it.
I brought Curtana’s blade down to Emma’s ankle to score a light gash, one that would hopefully slow her down. But the sharp metal refused to cut her and instead it was as if I was using a plastic knife. I tried again on the other ankle, but achieved the same result.
“What the hell?” I shouted to no one. “This is your mercy, you stupid sword that’s not a sword? I need to win!”
Another move flashed before my eyes at that moment and I nodded, bringing Curtana’s pole behind Emma’s neck, trapping her head in a makeshift vise. I leaned into her body and for some reason whispered “I’m sorry” and then pulled the Relic forward. As Emma tumbled slowly to the ground, the last of my speed ink evaporated, and I watched as time resumed its normal course and she hit the mat at full speed with a crunch. The force of the impact caused Solais to slide out of her left hand, but when I looked at her right, I saw that it was empty.
And that’s when I felt it, a pain unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life, like something was siphoning out the energy in my body, little by little. I stared down at my stomach in horror to find that in that fraction of a second, Emma had stabbed me with White Hilt.