I thought my training would mostly be river monster fights, but the river was quiet for that first week, while we dealt with a more troubling threat.
Apparently, the Hell Cows were part of an early test run, because Minerva and I spent most of our time responding to random demon portals all over town. Always public spaces, always a pack of Hunters, always black with gold highlights. Sometimes three or four a day.
“You’re good with these,” Minerva said after we wiped out one of our first packs of Hunters. “I read your dossier, but it doesn’t have much detail. You got your powers from a demon prince and a magic book? And you had to break a contract?”
I said “Yeah,” and had to tell the whole damn story again, basically telling her about everything but Lydia, also conveniently skipping over the part where I was the first man in history to digitize a spellbook. I had managed to keep Taltorak a secret from everybody so far, even the DMA.
If they learned what I had accomplished there, I would spend the next ten years of my life in a research lab, trying to recreate it, but now that I was actually getting good at punching shit, I wanted to keep doing it.
I finished the short version of my origin story and Minerva said, “You said you defeated a demon prince, but you didn’t say how. Did you trap him or call in angels or what?”
“I grabbed him by the horns and beat him to death against the floor of his throne room. Then I ate his heart.”
“No shit?” Minerva said.
“No shit,” I said, annoyed by the persistent note of disbelief in her voice. “Speaking of eating, I haven’t had a lunch break in three days, so I’m gonna bounce a couple blocks over and grab a cheesesteak. Try to keep up.”
I was being childish, determined to show off my leaping in a neighborhood I knew. It was neck and neck, even with my petulant head start, but I took a shortcut through a building and got there first, smiling at the roof entrance to Joe’s, politely holding the door for her.
Minerva glared at me on her way in, but you could tell she was amused. We both ordered sandwiches, and I was impressed when Minerva got two.
I whipped out my badge to pay and she got in front of me. “Please don’t try and buy things for me, it’s dumb.”
She swiped one of those awesome Mitsumi black cards and bought mine, too. The waitress brought us three huge sandwiches and thanked us for our service before I could stop her.
Then she got a picture with Minerva, completely ignoring me. Minerva was gracious about it, and surprised me with a fantastic smile, smiling like she’d practiced in the mirror a thousand times.
Minerva did not seem inclined to start a conversation, so I gave it my best shot. “You know my origin story, but what’s yours? Are you a time traveler or something, visiting us from the ancient world?”
“I’m thirty-six, asshole!”
“Sorry!” I threw my hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just, how did you end up on Earth?”
“It’s a little soon for that story. I’ll tell you later.” Another long pause, and Minerva said, “How strong are you? Have I already seen your limits or have you been holding back?”
“Can I tell you the truth without fucking up my evaluation?”
“Maybe,” she said. “But if I find out you’re hiding something from me, that will definitely fuck up your evaluation.”
Sometimes I get a feeling that I can trust people, way before I actually have enough information to know that. Minerva was one of those people.
“I don’t use magic like a normal mage. I can’t just concentrate for a minute and summon whatever power I want. I’m technically a male witch, because the strength of my magic is connected to how I feel. I’m strong as hell when I’m happy or angry, can’t cast for shit when I’m scared or depressed.”
“You can’t use your powers when you’re scared?”
Fuck. Here we go. “No, I can’t. Sometimes I can redirect the fear and recover in the middle of a fight, but sometimes it takes a minute. And now that you know that, is my evaluation over? Did I just fuck myself by telling you the truth?”
“Not yet,” she said, completely ignoring the emotion in my voice. “Everybody I ever fought with has trouble fighting when they’re scared, even if they’re just trying to aim guns. The trick is, don’t be scared.”
“I’ll write that down,” I said sarcastically, wondering how I was going to get half a cheesesteak home to Lydia.
“Sure,” she said, “it could be a problem, but I’ve already seen you fight nine demon packs in three days, and I never saw you falter. You took a few hits and got cut a few times when they outflanked you, but you never shut down and you never stopped swinging. But the interesting part of what you just said – would you get stronger right now if I pissed you off?”
I said, “Yes. I’m gonna regret telling you that, but yes.”
“And why do you just punch things? Would you be more effective with a weapon?”
“A friend and I tried that, when I was first training to use my powers. I tried a sword and a staff and even a fucking tire iron, but everything bent or broke. I even fucked up the tire iron, and Veazey wouldn’t let me try swords anymore after I broke the first one.
“But my hands are not just hands, and my feet are not just feet, apparently. The magic wards that protect me from shit wrap around my whole body and make my hands hit like bricks. I guess I could use a weapon if it was strong enough. Could you get me a divine magic sword or an indestructible hammer or something?”
Minerva just said, “No.”
She finished her sandwich and let the waitress clear the baskets away, including the half sandwich I had been planning to take home.
Minerva grabbed both sides of the table and shook it a few times, confirming that it was metal, and that it was bolted to the floor. Again, when you live in a city with a lot of demon attacks, you end up bolting a lot of stuff to the floor.
The table squeaked but didn’t seem measurably looser, so Minerva put her elbow on the table and put her hand up, inviting me to grab it.
“Really?” I said. “Why? We already know how this is gonna go.”
“This is not a contest,” she said. “This is a test. How do you feel right now?”
“Nervous, anxious, slightly annoyed, and I should probably wipe this cheese off my lip.”
I grabbed a napkin, took a bit of extra time to clean my face off, and grabbed her hand.
Minerva said, “Three… two… one…” and slammed my hand down on the table – instantly, but not hard enough to hurt.
“You weren’t even trying,” Minerva said.
“It’s hard for me to summon magic when I know we’re just fucking around. The danger has to be real.”
“But what if you don’t know about the danger yet? Are you gonna be weak to surprise attacks?
“I’m pretty good at keeping my defenses up between fights.”
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Minerva nodded. “Okay, we’re gonna try this a few more times, and at some point in the middle of it, I’m gonna use this other hand and smack you in the face. So, now you know there’s danger coming but you don’t know when.”
I smiled. “Remind me to introduce you to a friend of mine.”
“You say you don’t have a lot of magic right now. No strong emotion, just baseline. So, show me baseline. Push my arm down as hard as you can, feeling just like you feel now.”
So, I tried. Her arm didn’t move, of course, but I pushed until my aura lit up, provoking people at adjacent tables to move away. Most people were enjoying the show, capturing the two of us on video that would turn out to be worthless, once it got flagged by HDI.
“Okay, not bad,” Minerva said. “Your baseline is decent, clearly above human, and you get stronger as you go. Tell me about this demon prince. Did you really eat his heart?”
I said, “Yes.”
“What did it taste like?” Minerva asked. Where the hell was she going with this?
“Like rubber tires dipped in motor oil,” I said. “It was absolutely disgusting, and the tissue was so tough, I had to use a faerie blade to even cut it.”
“And did anything happen after you ate it? Did you feel like he was possessing you or interfering with your magic or anything?”
“What? No. Is that a thing? Fuck. I never even researched that.”
“Well, if it hasn’t poisoned you by now, I guess it’s not going to. How long did it make you sick?”
“I never really felt sick,” I said. “But if you ever have to use the toilet after eating a demon’s heart, flush before you look back in the bowl. Just trust me on that.”
Minerva almost grinned. “So, this demon, what was he like?”
“His name was Baalphezar, and he enslaved the wizards in my family for seven generations.”
“Yeah,” Minerva interrupted. “That’s what he did, but what was he like? Did you get a chance to talk to him before you kicked his ass?”
I hesitated. “I wasn’t taking him seriously enough when I first talked to him, and my friends paid for that. He threatened my ex-girlfriend, he threatened to hurt children, he pushed my childhood friend off a roof, and then he threw another friend in front of a train. Literally had a possessed guy push him in front of a train. I had to sneak into the hospital and heal him, just to keep him alive. I don’t know how much the DMA knows about me. Do you know all this already?”
“Just keep going,” Minerva said. “When did you decide to fight back?”
“Exactly at that moment, when I had no other choice. Innocent people were getting hurt, and I couldn’t just stand by and let that happen. Truth is, I didn’t commit to fighting until I couldn’t run anymore. I guess a real hero would have started fighting right away, but I screwed around for weeks, thinking the only person to suffer would be me.”
Minerva reached up and casually slapped me in the face. My wards flared as her hand flattened against my cheek, but my head did not move.
I kept eye contact and said, “Ow.”
“Be specific,” she said. “Did that really hurt? How much did that hurt?”
“Nah, it didn’t hurt. You gave me advance warning, so I had my wards cranked up. Usually if it flares like that when you hit me, it means the wards caught it and absorbed the kinetic energy before it got to me.”
“Good,” Minerva said. “Go on with the story, but focus on this demon. What was he like? How did he talk to you?”
“He was a condescending prick, of course. Said he owned my soul before I was born, but he talked like he wasn’t just enslaving me. Sometimes it felt - it felt like he was proud of me, like he was even proud of me for fighting him.”
“So, when did he push you over the edge? When did you really get mad?”
“The one who really made me angry was one of his lieutenants. Shit, I better not say his name in case he’s still alive. No, actually fuck him. Belak. His name was Belak, and he was a smarmy green piece of shit who thought he was the smartest guy in the room.
“He taunted me and belittled me and insulted me, and he damn near kicked my ass, until I caught him with a surprise attack and blew his arm off.”
Minerva didn’t really smile, but sometimes the corners of her mouth would turn up, as they did when I changed my mind about saying Belak’s name.
“That fucking prick,” I said, flaring a little magic in my eyes. “It wasn’t enough to threaten me or beat me, he had to humiliate me, to treat me like a child, and explain why I wasn’t brave enough to lead my own life. Said I would make an excellent slave, because I was too weak to think for myself.”
Minerva reached up and slapped my other cheek with her other hand, with the same result.
“Was that one really necessary?”
The corners of Minerva’s mouth turned up again as she said, “No. Keep going.”
“That fight with Belak,” I continued. “That’s when I really lost it. I…” Was I really about to tell her this? “I got so angry, my powers surged out of control, and I blew up my friend’s truck.”
“And that’s how you were able to stand up to Sonny, when he tried to push you over? The footprints? That thing that burned the grass?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “You already know about that? Shit. Fine. I lost my temper, and the magic surged out for a minute, uncontrolled.”
“But then you stood up. In the video, I saw that white fire circle comes out three times, but then the fire moves up to your body, into your eyes and your hands, and then you damn near put Sonny on his ass.”
I shook my head. “I wish I could take credit for that, but I was nowhere close to putting Sonny on his ass.”
Minerva put her elbow back on the table and said, “Again.”
I did much better this time. Did her arm actually move a little, or was that my imagination?
“Why did you destroy Herman’s house?” Minerva asked, as I continued to push her arm.
“Because he’s an evil son of a bitch. I can’t prove it yet but fuck his fake libertarian bullshit. You get a woman young enough, you scare her enough, you wear her down over time, and then promise her everything in the world if she just puts her thumb on a piece of glass? Me and Herman have very different definitions of the word ‘consent.’”
Not my imagination this time. Minerva’s arm was moving, and this might actually turn into a real match. I adjusted my footing and leaned into it, pouring the magic in, careful not to surge in a public place.
The magic was easier to focus now, maybe because I knew it was just a demonstration. I brought power in and pumped it into my arm. Minerva’s arm was moving so much, I could tell she was actually having to work.
“I feel like my dad when I talk about Herman, getting personally angry about political shit I can’t change. But listening to him talk, listening to him describe what he’s selling, selling the illusion of love to lonely boys who don’t know any better.
“How many guys have fallen for this? How many guys have already given up? Why bother getting a job or improving yourself or even leaving the goddamn house, when everything you need can be plugged into the back of your head?
“How many guys will live and die without knowing real love because they took the easy way out? This motherfucker is guilty of slavery and trafficking and all kinds of crimes that supposedly aren’t crimes anymore, but his real crime, the crime he deserves to die for, is convincing an entire generation of men that this pathetic fake love is the best they can get!”
Minerva was visibly straining, but I was damn near my limit. I was feeling real anger now, even more anger than I felt remembering Baalphezar. Minerva adjusted her footing and started pushing back for real. She pushed my arm back up to our starting position and suddenly let go.
“Enough!” she said, breaking away from me. “I think I got your full range now.”
“What if I’m not done?” I asked, exhaling a deep, angry breath.
Minerva’s eyes softened as she said, “Kovak, you’re the strongest guy I’ve trained in ten years. You might even be able to beat me, but you would hurt yourself to get the win, and I am not gonna let you hurt yourself.”
* * *
I only saw Lydia for a minute when I got home that night. She was all the way across the room when I walked in, and she didn’t make any move to come toward me.
She just sniffed the air and said, “Oh no, she’s been touching you…” and winked out without saying goodbye.
* * *
“How high can you jump?” Minerva asked the next day.
“I can levitate straight up for about as long as I need to. Made it to the top of Madison Tower a few months ago.”
“But that’s levitation. How high can you jump?”
“You mean, jump? Like Sonny Mao jump? My starting point in the Zone is a two-story building, about twenty feet up.”
“Come with me,” she said. “I wanna see you do thirty.”
It was after office hours, so Minerva took me to a three-story building along the river and asked me to get a running start.
I gave it my best shot and bounced off the plexiglass about twenty feet up, barely catching my fall as I tumbled backwards.
I flushed bright red and said, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “Keep trying.”
So, I kept trying, starting from further and further back, getting a little higher each time, but never quite high enough, listening to the plexiglass bend and flex with each new impact as I failed.
We did it long enough for me to get frustrated, but Minerva just kept telling me to keep at it.
“Don’t rush,” she said. “We’re just killing time on river watch. I can see everything from here.”
So, I kept trying, leaping and bouncing, leaping and bouncing, scuffing up my shirt and my pants. My boots would have been worn down from the impacts, if they weren’t made from the same nano stuff as my jacket.
“I can’t get the angle right,” I said after the first ten times. “Is it okay if I use a training hologram?”
“Use whatever you need,” she said.
So, I brought out my Captain Cobalt hologram and created a sim of how he would have done it, copying his arm and leg movements, starting from exactly where he started on the ground.
Minerva was watching from a distance, from the side, and couldn’t quite see what I was doing.
I tried it five more times, copying the Captain, and eventually made it high enough to grab the edge of the roof and pull myself up.
I caught my breath and walked up to her, asking, “Does that count?”
Minerva was frowning and craning her neck as she walked up to me, peering at the black and white hologram of Captain Cobalt I had left running, so it looked like it was walking beside me.
“What the hell is that?” she snapped, sounding angry and strangely unsettled.
“Just my training hologram,” I said. “I told you I use these to train.”
“When you said training holograms… Don’t ever let me see that again! Don’t ever use his face again! Larry Friedrich is dead! You let that man rest!”
And the strongest woman in the world launched herself up and away from me. I had never seen her display an authentic human emotion before, but as she was leaping away from me that night, I think she was in tears.