Lisa wanted to fight ‘properly’ so they had to move. Any duel that involved magic required preparations and space they didn’t have here. Too crowded. Besides, Ryan had to get his gear.
They just had to figure out what to do with Micah. Ryan didn’t know if he was actually meditating or just running through his warrior Path, or how long he would need, but he didn’t want to interrupt.
“Hang on,” Lisa said. She disappeared and came back with Myra in tow. The other girl had a standard practice sword in hand and looked slightly intrigued, but her expression changed when she saw Micah, glanced at the both of them, and caught on.
“Can you watch after him? We want to go to the Guild to duel, but we don’t want to leave him alone.”
“No. I don’t want to do that. I’m here to train, too. Why do I have to quit while you run off?”
Her free hand twitched with every word. Ryan wondered if she was one of those people who flailed around when they spoke. He also wondered if it would have been fine to leave Micah in her care, even if she had agreed. He didn’t know her.
“So take a break?” Lisa asked.
“You take a break. If it’s so important to you, wait for him to wake up. If not, drop the act and leave. Or get a teacher to look after him.”
“Oh. Why didn’t I think of that?”
Myra didn’t answer. She already left.
They asked one of the gym teachers to sit near him instead and the man reminded them of the meditation room appointments. There were schedules all over school, if they wanted to find one. If students wanted to do it elsewhere, or outside their private rooms, they were to communicate better.
They agreed profusely, apologized, and thanked him before leaving a message and ducking out.
Twenty minutes later, Ryan stepped into the training hall. Small clusters of students sat on benches rising around them, some with animals nearby. Sand crunched under his shoes as he stepped past the barrier onto the field. Fine mesh tarps hung to either side like volleyball nets, separating the court into parts. The one to his right billowed inward as something impacted it. Shoes scuffed underneath and he could make out the vague outlines of other students through them.
A shining blue bird flew overhead and he slowed for a step as he tried to figure out what it had once been.
Lisa passed him. Her ram’s head staff hung from a loop around one shoulder, and she wore an outfit halfway between gym clothes and climbing gear. It probably offered her more protection than her actual gear. A separate set, just for training. Ryan envied her it at the moment.
In an off-hand motion, she threw her arm to the side and a Teacup Salamander jumped to the ground.
Sam turned slow circles as he got its bearings, glanced at Ryan, and seemed to want to turn to its owner.
He had it in his hands before it could, spear lying forgotten on the sand-dusted floor. “Hey, you.” He spoke in a voice reserved for pets and children. He scratched the flame-wreathed amphibian behind where any other animal’s ears would be, then moved on to petting its head. “Long time no see.”
Its scales were strangely warm, like sun-baked stone. Warmer than he remembered. He imagined they might singe after a while. But then again, all pets could be uncomfortable. Cats had claws and dogs weren’t fluid.
Sam gurgled something and tried to turn to its owner, overwhelmed.
“Don’t cuddle it,” Lisa complained. “It’s supposed to bite your face off in a moment. You’ll just confuse it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan said and reluctantly let it back down, though dissuading it from that goal didn’t seem like a bad thing. Sam ran off. He followed it with his eyes, looked up, and frowned at the shimmering red crystal still in Lisa’s hand. “Wait, isn’t that its crystal?”
“Yeah.”
She was focused on it, not him.
“So then how—?”
The air distorted, looking strangely hot. She plucked something from it and tossed it aside like a wet rag. A second Sam jumped from the air. This one was longer than the last and hit the ground running with its head down and almost insectile, rotating steps. It was fast.
“What?”
She lobbed something over her shoulder and a third Sam hit the ground. It was hunched over, but still taller than the other two. Its mouth was elongated. Teeth stuck out the sides like the beginnings of a crocodile’s maw and its shoulders were visible beneath the skin. It reminded him vaguely of a dog in the way it sat.
She tucked the crystal away.
“You can summon three of them now. A Skill?”
“In part. It mostly depends on how I manage my mana. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long in the Tower.”
Ryan still stared. If this was what she could make on her own, what could she have made with eight more mana rings?
He couldn’t wait to get into the Tower to loot the place.
For now, he dragged his spear in front of himself and stood. It was just a training spear, dulled and wooden, but it could still hurt. Sam was almost like the entire team’s pet. He hadn’t really considered what sparring with Lisa would entail.
“Are these the smart ones or the constructs?”
“They’re all constructs, Ryan.”
She was headed for the opposite end of the court. Ryan took a slow step back to the center of his.
“You know what I mean.”
“I used [Summoner’s Bond] on the three of them if that’s what you’re asking.”
Right. No matter which benefits she hoped for by abstaining in the long term, short term, it was just too good to pass up.
“So can they feel pain?”
She turned. “No. We’re sparring.”
He exhaled and let his shoulders sag. He wouldn’t want to hurt a pet, monstrous appearance or no.
She unslung her staff, and he busied himself with moving his limbs into some easy stretches. He was still ‘warm’ from the hour of practicing, he just wanted to get his body ready to move.
The raincoat tickled the side of his face. He brushed it away and it was back in a second. He had no other way of keeping the hood up than wearing it underneath his helmet, though that might not be the best idea. Helmets were supposed to be snug. The jacket protected him almost like a coif would, though. He hoped it would be worth it. He could find a better fit for the real thing.
Still, Ryan had caught glimpses of his reflection in the dark windows. Training spear. Worn running shoes and pants. Climber’s Shirt over a yellow rain jacket that hung two-thirds to his knees. A gnarled chunk of bark and wood that could barely be called a shield—Micah’s potion had worked a little too good. It was almost dyed in places. His helmet over a hoodie to top it all off.
He looked ridiculous, probably.
Function over form, he told himself when others gave him glances. Thankfully, Lisa didn’t seem to care and he didn’t know anybody else here, though his mind couldn’t settle on if that was a good thing or not. Maybe he would have been able to show off?
He pushed the thought aside, then deep down. Focus. He probably would have just embarrassed himself.
“How are we going to do this?”
“Point-system. Five or restraint to win. One per good hit. Don’t aim for the head unless its the safer option, but hitting still counts.”
She wore a helmet. Ryan nodded.
“Just one?”
“Don’t try to do anything that would normally get you more than one, unless you can’t help it.”
“Alright.” He knew point sparring usually had a scoring system. Vitals and good hits gave more than one. He preferred keeping it safe, though, and it wasn’t like either of them were poor sportsmen.
Actually, he didn’t know if Lisa was a poor sportsman. He supposed he would find out.
“Will we need a referee?”
She made a face. “I wouldn’t think so.”
“I can take a [Firebolt] in this with ease,” he argued an example.
“And I could throw a [Fireball] at you. What’s your point?”
Fair enough. He was curious about how his ward would fare against a [Fireball], though.
Last question.
“Do we need to go pick up mouthguards?”
She blinked. “Oh, for your teeth? If you want to, but hurry. I won’t need one.”
Ryan dismissed the idea after a moment. Wearing the rain jacket alone felt like too much, even if she was a [Mage]. This was supposed to be a sparring match.
He mirrored her position, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck one last time.
The three Sams gathered around her like guard dogs.
“Ready?” The spear slid into proper position in his hand.
“Stay within the markings and away from the nets if you can,” she told him. “Set?”
Ryan nodded. “Go.”
They moved.
“Mush!” Lisa bellowed and two Sams charged. The snake went wide and the dog barrelled forward. Sam crawled up her leg. A protector? Something to keep in mind, but good in the interim.
Ryan broke into a sprint. He wasn’t willing to risk a battle of attrition, not even with her taxing herself so much. Any second he delayed in an actual fight was a chance for backup to arrive.
The dog reached him mid-step first and snapped at his shin. Ryan slammed his spear into its face and pushed right. Gotta keep an eye on the second one. It still tried to bend around the shaft to bite him, but the weight threw it off. It went tumbling across the sand.
Fluttering cloth. The sound of it, at least. He glanced left and brought his shield up. Warmth washed over him as the [Firebolt] broke against the wood. To his right, the serpent took the chance to get close. It shot straight up like a snake.
[Strike Down], his speartip slammed it aside. Ryan opened his guard up a fraction to see what Lisa was doing.
Sam sailed at him through the air.
The pit bull was charging. The serpentine had gone with the force of his blow and come right back around. Lisa was feeding another flame in the palm of her hand already, still halfway in a thrower’s stance. Three from all sides but his left—
A little obvious.
Ryan threw himself right, into a roll over the pit bull. He turned to get it from behind and—
The [Firebolt] hit him in the shoulder like a punch. It knocked him off-balance and he almost went down. Heat crept up his neck and to his ear, making his entire body sweat and face flush.
He spun on her.
How?!
Had she predicted the jump or just anticipated it? [Firebolts] weren’t that fast. Ryan had gone the more dangerous direction on purpose. He scowled and pushed himself up. He could still get something out of this.
“That’s one!” Lisa called in the distance.
He went for the pit bull. The serpent would just dodge. Sam was too far away after it had crash-landed.
His spear took its legs and tail out from under it. His right foot followed through and he punted it aside. It was surprisingly light. It sailed to the far end of the court and Ryan spun to huddle behind his shield for the heck of it. He turned on Lisa again, not sure if he had blocked anything.
No sound of rushing flames. Surprisingly, she was charging at him. Had she wanted to catch him off-guard?
He had no idea if he was faster than the other two. He supposed he would figure it out.
Ryan met her. The spear gave him extra reach. He didn’t know if Lisa was aware of that. Not a lot of people kept it in mind. He went right to put her body between him and her staff, kept up the distance, and stabbed at her side.
She turned to bat it aside. He brought the spear down in a slice. Lisa tucked her stomach in and arched around it, then threw herself closer, the staff holding the shaft away from her.
Ryan slipped it short and tried for another strike, but she caught it with the tip of her staff and pushed. Wooden horns offered a recess and flung away from her. Suddenly, she was up close. Lightning crackled between her fingers, leaving roots in his vision. A smile spread on her face. His rain jacket tickled a drop of sweat on his cheek and made it itch like an insect.
His shield—
Too little, too late.
Ryan’s foot caught her in the stomach and shoved.
Lisa stumbled back a few steps. She lost her balance, tripped over nothing, and fell.
“Fuck,” Ryan swore. “Sorry!” He hadn’t meant to kick that hard.
Something searing hot wrapped around his left leg, drawing his eye. A glimpse of something else in the other corner. Sam ducked around its master to jump at him. He barely brought his shield up in time to catch it halfway and it hung off a branch toward him. He pushed out to keep it that way.
Something hooked itself behind his right leg at the same moment and pulled. He lurched. Lisa’s leg was outstretched on the ground, her foot around his. The serpent was around the other.
She had a grin on her face and pulled again, harder this time.
Ryan fell. His stance was a mess.
“The hell’ are you apologizing for?” she asked.
He tucked his chin in a second before he hit the ground. She on him in a moment, headed for his arm. His spear was surprisingly still in his grip. Two Sams weighed him down. The third was probably close by.
She was going for the pin.
Ryan brought his spear in and slipped it under the serpent. His shield pinned Sam to the floor.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Lisa had one leg on his torso and was trying to get his spear out of his hand at the same time as he mumbled, “[Surge],” and punched up. The serpent almost went flying. He wouldn’t be surprised if it had [Enhanced Traction]. But Lisa lost her grip with a curse and fumbled to get it back.
No thanks.
He stabbed the serpent Sam in the stomach, brought the butt of the spear into her side and threw himself the other way into a roll that flattened Sam on the ground. It gurgled something.
A blind sweep covered his retreat from the three, but the dog Sam was charging at him. Two stabs missed. He got his posture back and got a good swipe into its side that cracked a scale.
It bled a flickering red light, almost like an unmade.
Before he could press the advantage, Lisa called it off. She stood with her staff against the ground and belatedly remembered to tug her shirt down.
Ryan fixed his collar from choking him. His rain jacket was a mess under his shirt, pushing in all the wrong places. He had sand in his mouth, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how it had gotten there.
“How much is that?” he called.
“Two-two?” She looked uncertain.
Her summons were wounded.
Ryan shrugged. “Sure.”
He had gotten out, but there went his [Surge]. It was pretty much the only active Skill he had. His feet were itching to just charge at her already. She was a [Mage]. He could take her.
But how was she on mana? And if he couldn’t abuse the range of his spear, then he couldn’t take her.
Unless he also went for a pin.
Ryan eyed the three Sams. Maybe he should fight a war of attrition, just for this match? She couldn’t keep this up forever, but—
He frowned as he noticed lines of light around their mouths and rubbed his left leg. In the back of his head, he had a growing suspicion, though he didn’t know where it came from. Instincts? Should he trust those? He didn’t have a combat Path, but …
He did have something else.
Ryan rolled something up in his arm and charged.
Lisa frowned. The three Sams wordlessly charged at him.
Shit.
He had been hoping they might fan out again. Fighting them one-by-one was easier, considering his Skill-set. The dog was first. He readied himself. At the last second, the serpent ducked around with a sprint.
“[Strike Down].”
Ryan jerked to get his spear up in time to even use the Skill, slapping it aside. He had to rely on it, but it didn’t last. In the corner of his eye, he saw the beast coming right back at him.
The pit bull was next. Ryan only had a split second to make a decision before it was too late. He threw his spear at the third Sam and in the same motion, ducked low behind his shield to meet the dog’s charge with a ram of his own.
It dug its claws into the wood with a snarl and held on for its life.
Ryan got his hand on the clasp inside the shield, jerked the leather back and out, and gripped the rim with both hands. It still wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. There was Lisa, with her staff up a few steps away. Ryan thrust it from him. Salamander and wood separated, the former pushing off from the latter. The shield went wide, but the beast flew true.
Right at her face.
He saw the surprise in her eyes, but there was no impact. The beast burst into a cloud of red smoke and strings. It passed through her head onto the other side, some of them ripping along the way.
They reknit themselves on the other end.
Ryan stared in sheer shock, but the mass hit the ground and burst into light. It dissipated.
Lisa’s focus was off, but her momentum wasn’t. Her eyes glanced right—his shield was missing, lying in the sand—and she brought her staff down on his helmet with a boop.
Sam tackled him.
A mean cut ran down its side, but it was in his face with a vengeance and making its owner proud.
He tried to get a hand in and not fall on his ass, but he couldn’t see what Lisa was doing. The moment he’d pried it two inches away from his face, he turned and used the card up his sleeve. Almost literally. Fire burst from his hand as he shoved out all the mana he’d been gathering out and ignited it.
The Salamander recoiled, hissing as it tried to get away from him. Ryan jerked his hand back and cursed. It fled and scraped its face along the sand. All the scales around its head had cracked.
Definitely flawed, he thought.
Then Lisa tackled him and they were down in a heap of flailing limbs, their fight descending into a wrestling match as all good sparring matches did.
She tried to get his arm again, so he tried to keep it away from her. Naturally. Ryan wanted to turn—give his legs some leverage. His left arm was stuck halfway under him. But she kept on using her weight to keep him down and her knees to knock his legs out from under him.
He doubted he could go on the offense like this. He hadn’t wanted to, but he ended up turtling up.
She let go of his arm with one of her hands, which gave him a bit more leverage to try to get it free. He pulled back and she slipped. A moment later, she was hanging onto his wrist. He tried to twist and pry it out, still struggling to get into a better position on the ground. She was fumbling at his side with her freed hand. His clothes shifted. Suddenly, there was a warm hand on his waist, brushing over his skin.
A cry burst out from him before he could shut his mouth and he had to keep himself from laughing.
He turned his torso up and smiled, “Lisa! Tickling is—”
There was a jolt.
Ryan spasmed. His back arched to get away from her and she did it again. Just a small jolt.
When it faded, he shouted, “That’s even worse!”
Now, Lisa was laughing.
She’d slipped around during it. Now, she had one knee behind the small of his back. His right arm was in her grip and she was twisting it to get it in a different position.
He tried to slip it out, but she had it in a hold. It was bent around the nook of her arm like a lever. He tried to slip his body to a different angle, but her other leg was in front of his waist, keeping him there. She was kneeling over him. Suddenly, he recognized what she was doing—
She twisted his arm the wrong way, putting pressure on the socket.
Ryan arched as he tried to scramble around to fix the angle, but he couldn’t get anywhere. She’d blocked him in on both sides.
She had him in a hold.
Sam trotted over. The normal Sam. It was gushing light from the cut in its sides and cracks on its face.
Ryan couldn’t see the serpent anywhere. Had she dismissed it?
It got up close and licked his nose.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan grumbled. He slapped the ground with his left hand, half-stuck under his own body again. “I give.”
Damnit, he was better than this.
Lisa stumbled away with heavy breaths but was grinning from ear to ear. “That was fun. For a first try, at least. Want to go again?”
He frowned. Could she even go again? He doubted she had any mana left. Unless she just wanted to wrestle. He might have been up for that, as long as she didn’t shock his midriff during.
That was totally cheating.
“I thought you sucked at close combat,” he said and sat up on the ground, arms over his knees. His right ear itched and he brushed some sand off it. With his left hand, he scratched Sam’s head again. He avoided the wounds.
“I do. Kind of. I’m bad at doing too many different things at the same time, you know?”
“You’re not supposed to think,” he told her, seriously doubting her self-assessment. She had caught his spear shaft with an indent on the tip of her staff and managed to keep it off her.
That took finesse.
“Mhm,” she gave a noncommittal grunt and stretched. When she brought her arms down, she slapped her legs. Sam shot off. She knelt so it could climb halfway onto her lap. With both hands on either side of its hands slowly, she began to reknit the wounds. Here and there, flesh wove itself together and scales crawled out like fingernails.
Ryan offered her better feedback. “Your design is flawed. You made their scales too hot or something.”
Suddenly, her smile was gone. She looked up. “No, it’s not. They’re intentionally that hot to distract.”
He shrugged. She was a little touchy. Pride? Or maybe it was something in the tone of his voice. “I’m just saying. Look at how dry their skin is. Teacup Salamanders are usually more glossy.”
He pointed.
“Yeah, but it worked. Your stance went to shit when Sam-Two crawled up your leg.”
“It’s tearing in places,” Ryan pushed on, scowling. He wasn’t critiquing her because he lost … Or he wasn’t just doing it. He wanted to help. “Even without me hurting it. Just from running around. And when I burned it ... ”
He trailed off, eying the cracks on its face. He knew Teacup Salamanders didn’t have fire resistance, but they had a form of heat resistance. Their scales shouldn't go to shit like that from a light burn.
Lisa glanced down, frowning.
“You made their scales too hot,” he repeated. “You probably didn’t adjust their enhanced perspiration, I take it?”
He was much sweatier than she was from just five minutes of sparring. Teacup Salamanders were worse. They were still salamanders beneath it all, amphibians, even if they had been robbed of what was important. They needed liquids. They got those from their scales.
Lisa just said, “Huh.” She kept on reknitting Sam’s wounds, though Ryan wasn’t sure why. She was just going to dismiss it when they left anyway. Maybe it was habit? Maybe practice.
He caught his breath, shook his head with a scowl, and made himself think about what he could have done better. Be faster, for one thing. Make the most use of a spear in combat.
After a moment, Lisa said, “Here. Tell me if this is better. I adjusted the temperature a bit.”
“The heat?”
“There’s only so much I can do with the scales. Trying to do it half-half with another solution instead.”
Ryan shrugged and shuffled over on the ground. He knelt next to the Salamander and inspected it, but he couldn’t see much. It would take a moment for it to adapt to whatever changes she had made.
“Feel it?” she offered.
Ryan reluctantly reached out, but he was unsure because of his own body heat. His ears were still warm.
“Frog in a pot,” he mumbled.
“Try anyway? I’ll try shifting it around a bit.”
He waited, but he could barely feel the difference in what she was doing. Wasn’t body temperature supposed to be extremely minute? He thought it went into decimal regions, in places.
But then—
“There.”
He didn’t know why, but something felt right.
“Like this?”
“A little warmer. Just a teeny— Yeah.”
She had it without him. Something inside told him this was perfect, like lying in bed in the morning and not wanting to get up because everything was so warm and cozy under the covers and you had just the right position on your pillow.
Perfect.
He frowned. Too perfect. “You already knew.”
“Yeah. I cheated.”
“Ah. So then why—?”
Lisa smiled. “I wanted to know if you could figure it out. And you could.”
“With my [Salamander Path].”
Like a Guidance Skill in itself, sometimes. Though it depended on what you knew and how much you had dealt with the topic.
Ryan had a lot of experience fighting Teacup Salamanders and managing [Hot Skin].
“I guess I cheated, too, huh?”
“I keep on forgetting that you have it,” Lisa said. “Our Paths are what we devote ourselves to, mentally. It seems odd to me, even with [Mimic Beast], that you would have a [Salamander Path].”
Ryan shrugged. What was he supposed to say to that? But Lisa was looking at him, making the statement a question. He avoided her gaze. Below, Sam was already looking somewhat better. She was still reknitting his wounds— its wounds, he reminded himself. He scratched it a little.
“It’s just— They were the first monsters I fought, you know? And I …”
He couldn’t even put it into words. He’d had an image of Tower monsters before he’d even entered the place. From plays, books, pictures. There were stuffed ones in glass vitrines in the Guild. Some of his schoolmates had summoned monsters, but only ever as summons.
The real things hadn’t lived up to his expectations.
He found himself agreeing with Lisa. They’re all constructs. But that didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her.
“They’re not salamanders,” he told her. “Not really. A part of them might have been, once. Or based on them, anyway. The Amphibians. But they’re mutated in size and they’ve been robbed of things that are important, which they need to live. And these scales, they’re not natural.”
He tapped one of Sam’s. It was one of the things that made him think the Towers weren’t natural. That they really had been designed by the Dwarf or whomever else was out there. Because he doubted they had chosen to be wreathed in them.
“It’s wrong,” he said, almost a mumble. “They shouldn’t exist like this.”
Lisa nodded. “It’s flawed design. It’s not hard to improve on, but I don’t want to just improve, I want to fix.”
He looked up. “You think they can be fixed?”
“Sure. Everything can, in one way or another. You should see some of the digestive systems I’ve been working on.”
He blinked. “Digestive systems?”
“Yeah. I can feed him snacks now if I wanted to. I mean, not now. I would have to summon him another way. Changes like that take a little extra something.”
“And it would then …?”
“Digest them. Like an unmade. Well, not like an unmade. It—”
“—would make flesh?”
“A little bit." She nodded. "Slowly, if it can handle it.”
“Handle it?” Ryan asked. He was still a little caught on the idea of a summoned monster digesting things. That sounded more like a familiar. “Is making a summon become flesh somehow harder or what?”
“It depends on how you do it,” she told him. “If it’s bottom-up or top-down. Are you making its muscles physical first to make it stronger and give it weight? Or its teeth so it can bite better? Or something else, like poison? Or are you starting from the bottom-up and building a frame? It’s like …” She trailed off, looking for a word. “It’s like the difference between throwing stuff in a spiderweb or setting up the fixtures which the web is attached to?”
Ryan frowned, but he thought he understood. It was the question of adding weight or relieving it. But that begged the question, “What happens then when it can’t handle it, is dismissed, or broken?”
Lisa just looked at him. And the blank expression told him everything he needed to know. What happened to the things hanging in the spiderweb when it was broken? Or to food that hadn’t been used?
“Eww. Lisa!”
“What? All living beings—”
“Don’t.”
“And I mean, haven’t you ever seen something die before? Things happen. Living organisms aren’t all that neat and tidy. You fight monsters for a living, don't you?”
“Seriously?”
“What?”
“You can create a whole living being from mana, and design new body structures and muscle groups and—digestive tracts. So can’t you like, make a version of Sam that doesn’t have to eat?”
“I mean, I can,” she said. “Or rather, I can make a version that can survive off of a few key sources but …”
She looked uncertain, then changed her mind and looked at him like he was being ridiculous. “But eating stuff is great. Why wouldn’t you want it to be able to eat? Enjoy a warm meal? Tastes?”
“No. I mean, yeah. But—”
“And if it eats, it poops.”
“Argh, you said it.” He threw his arms up.
“What? Poop?” She sounded nonchalant.
“Stop—”
“Poop, poop, poop, poop—”
“Lalalalalala. I can’t hear you—” Ryan stuck his fingers in his ears and acted like he was five.
In his defense, she hadn’t stopped either.
“What are you two even doing?” Micah interrupted them.
Ryan glanced up. The other guy was headed toward them with slow steps and a look of utter bewilderment on his face.
He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Training.”
Micah cracked up. “I know that line.”
“We were talking about summoning theory,” Lisa told him. “And about how maybe Ryan can help me with it?”
She looked at him.
Huh? Oh, because of his [Salamander Path]?
“Uhm, sure?” Ryan said. “I can try”—he stressed the word because he had no idea how to create digestive systems … nor would he want to—”but I make no promises.”
She smiled. “Great.”
“And you?” He turned to Micah. “Figure, uh, anything out?” Ryan tried to seem casual, in case he was still procrastinating.
Micah leaned on his crutches under his armpits to bend forward a little. “Uhm, a little bit. But not— Not a Skill. Not yet.” He glanced at Lisa. “It would be something I have to work on.”
“Oh. Cool.” Ryan thought that hadn’t really been an answer. “You also have that appraisal appointment soon, right? Maybe that will help.”
He nodded. “Monday. You, too?”
“Later today—”
“Enough chit-chat,” Lisa interrupted them. “Are we going at it again or do you always quit after just one match?”
Ryan gave her an incredulous look. “Like you could even fight me without two more Sams to back you up.”
“Of course, I can.”
“Oh, yeah? Prove it.”
He got up and she followed him. Sam jumped off her lap and turned on him, posturing.
Traitor.
“Same rules?”
“Maybe. I also want to try rounds,” Lisa said. “‘See if that puts more pressure on not making mistakes because you will only have one shot before things reset to the starting point.”
“Seems like it might be repetitive.”
“Not at first, I don’t think,” she said, voice getting louder as they both headed for their sides of the courts.
Ryan wiggled an arm under his shirt to fix his raincoat. He was pretty sure it was folded in places. There was sand in there, too. It was fine, more like flour than salt, but still annoying. He tried to shake it out and fix his clothes.
“You need to get creative,” she went on. “Because sometimes, one shot is all you have.”
They were back in places. Micah still stood in the middle of the court, looking lost with his crutches under his arms and long cast encasing his leg. When he caught on, he headed for the benches with awkward steps up the stairs and cheered both sides.
She was telling him.
He turned back to her. “So rounds, then? A compromise: Two per round, maybe?”
She shrugged. "Sure, we can figure this out."
"Then, ready?"
There was no set. Lisa just said, “Go.”