EXALTED (An Exalted Novel) (23 page)

I’m actually glad that I don’t have the chance to get nervous this time. As I make my way into the arena to fight Neima, I realize this means Val will be up against Kinah. I was hoping she wouldn’t have to go up against the monstrous girl, but I suppose if you are to be the best you have to beat the best. Regardless, I am scared for her.

Trying to decide what my strategy will be, I realize that I didn’t even watch Neima’s first match. That would probably help me right now. Before I come up with anything solid, the alarm rings. I take off running toward my opponent, who stands near a tree. I quickly decide that I need to disarm her. If I get hit with that spiked club, I’ll be done for.

Neima runs toward me as well. I run just past the tree and almost straight into her and her club, but I stealthily cut left and dodge around the tree. As I come back around toward her, I jump up and grab a low hanging branch and swing myself up. I kick the mock club out of Neima’s hand. It flies to the ground near her feet, but before she’s able to reach it, I drop down on top of her. My dagger finds its way into her side. Neima barely pauses. She bucks and knocks me over onto my back. Thankfully, I land close to her spiked club, which I pick up and heave into the audience. I don’t know if that is allowed, but right now I don’t care.

My opponent is unarmed and wounded. She heads toward the crates, knowing she needs a shield. Neima smashes one of the wooden boxes and salvages a portion for her makeshift shield. She holds it close to her body, pulling herself tightly in behind it. I wait for her to make a move. She decides to charge me. Just when she’s about to ram me, I swipe my foot out to trip her. Such a predictable movement, but it sends her tumbling forward. I sweep around and drive another dagger into her unwounded side.

Neima lays facedown on the ground with two abdominal wounds. She isn’t dead yet. My opponent will eventually die from her the wounds I gave her, but the arena is demanding her death now. They stomp and chant, “Finish her! Finish her!” I must act like I’m under the Pump’s influence. I have to behave as any one of them would in this situation.

I stand over Neima, one leg on each side of her dying body. I bend down, grabbing the top part her nanosuit that opens up to her face. The only way I am able to get through this next part is to remind myself that this isn’t real.
This isn’t real.
Tilting her head up, I drag my skinning knife across her exposed throat. It doesn’t actually cut into her flesh or draw blood, but the feeling I get is just as revolting as if it had. Neima’s head flops down as I stand over my victim. I feel victorious and horrified at the same time.

The crowd responds in approval. I am disgusted.

“Mena is the victor! You will be competing in the final round.” Millie congratulates me and I leave the floor. Then she says, “Valesca and Kinah, you are up next. Please take your places on the course.”

I stomp along with the crowd to encourage Val. I feel conflicted about this fight. I don’t want my friend to lose to Kinah, but I also don’t want to fight her myself in the final
round. There’s also the longing to get my own shot at Kinah.

As soon as the fight starts, Kinah effortlessly lifts one of the boulders. She stands it up on its side like it’s a plank of wood. She ducks behind it, narrowly missing being hit with one of Val’s arrows. Val circles around to get a better shot, but Kinah just swivels the boulder to block any attack from her opponent. Realizing her efforts are useless, Val once again goes for a tree. She effortlessly scales the tree, draws up her bow, and finds the right angle to fire. Her arrow hits Kinah’s left shoulder.

My feet hit the ground. Boom! Boom! Boom! I want to vocally cheer for her, but my stomping will have to suffice.

Kinah lifts the boulder over her shoulders. She marches toward the tree with purpose. I look between the tree and boulder.
Oh, no.
I know what’s coming.
Kinah begins banging the boulder against the trunk of the tree, like a battering ram. She strikes the trunk over and over again. The tree groans and shakes.

If Val is firing shots off from inside the umbrella of the tree, they must be getting tangled up in the branches. Not one arrow hits Kinah as she continues to blast the trunk. Finally, the tree gives up. It cracks, topples over, and crashes to the sandy ground with a loud boom and swishing leaves. Sand sprays up around the fallen tree, clouding the audience’s view. I jump out of my seat. Disbelief and panic overwhelm me. I can’t see Val anywhere.

The crowd is silent, waiting for the sand to settle. They all lean forward in their seats as they search for the unfortunate girl. Even Kinah remains still. She’s also unable to locate Val.

The air slowly clears, and I can finally see a lump under the branches starting to move. Val is fighting with the foliage that’s keeping her hidden. She eventually gets her head out and then forces her way into a standing position. Kinah doesn’t waste anytime letting Val recover. She stomps over to her opponent and hits her across the head with her heavy club. My knees nearly buckle as I watch my friend fall back into the mess of branches and leaves.

Kinah wades into the sea of branches, getting closer to Val’s unconscious body. She’s preparing for another strike. I lunge forward to enter the arena and save my friend, but a hand tethers me in place. I look back and see Ethan’s blue eyes threatening to tear up. He holds them back, just as he holds me back from attacking Kinah in front of the Republic. His steady grip reminds me of all the eyes around us.

“It’s not real,” he whispers in my ear. But, I know just by the look on his face, that he is struggling as much as I am.

Before Kinah can hit Val a second time with her club, Millie calls the fight. “Kinah is the victor!” Relief rushes through me. My emotions are exhausting me today, even more so than my fights. One minute I’m nervous, the next minute I’m calm, and then I’m filled with rage and wanting to do harm to Kinah. I need to calm myself.

Back in the arena, Kinah moves away from her fallen competitor, but not before she gives Val a departing kick to her midsectio
n. I want to vomit.

A flurry of medical citizens enters the arena. They put my unconscious friend on a black stretcher, and carefully leave the arena floor. Val is taken out through a set of doors that I can’t see. She disappears from sight, leaving me furious.

I will get revenge for her. I will beat Kinah.

Before I get my shot
against Kinah, the boys must compete once again. The battle between Az and Chasin wasn’t much of a show. Az won as expected. Although Chasin is gifted with his bow, he was no match physically for Az. And consequently, Chasin will be nursing a black eye tomorrow.

Now for another blade on blade fight. Ethan stands in the arena facing his opponent, Kwan. Ethan only shows a confident and controlled demeanor. He would certainly intimidate me if I were standing opposite him. I hope Kwan is prepared.

It starts in a flash. The alarm sounds. Ethan immediately sends six daggers Kwan’s way, and then runs directly toward him. I tensely watch as Kwan blocks the first five knives with his sword. The last one, however, grazes Kwan’s wrist. Unfortunately for Ethan, it wasn’t Kwan’s sword hand. Ethan is on top of him in no time and they engage in a close contact fight. Ethan fights with two long bladed skinning knives, and Kwan gracefully wields his long sword.

I think back to my fight against Trudi when we were engaged much like Ethan and Kwan are now. The years and years of training allow the Exalted to be this physically talented. Every move the competitors make is executed with precision. They are both so skilled. The action is amazing. And the crowd agrees.

I want to yell, “Watch your stomach!” to Ethan. I’m on the edge of my seat watching them, chanting warnings in my head. Kwan’s sword proves superior in this type of close contact fight. He knocks one of Ethan’s knives out of his hand. Just when I think Ethan is about to be struck down, he lunges and grabs Kwan’s sword hand as it descends in a swooping arc. Ethan head-butts him.

I can imagine an explosion occurring in Kwan’s vision. He stumbles back. Ethan takes this change to bring his knife down across his dazed opponent’s sword arm. The mock sword clunks to the ground. Kwan stares at his arm like the bottom half is missing. He’s confused and in obvious pain, but he quickly realizes it’s just the suit telling his brain he’s injured. Kwan kicks out at Ethan’s feet. Ethan jumps high in the air, missing the attempted attack. He raises his knife overhead, and upon landing, he plunges it into Kwan’s spinal column. Kwan
flops on the cold ground; his lifeless body lies contorted and ruined, until his nanosuit is turned off.

After Kwan is brought back to life, he walks off of the dreadful arena floor broken and confused. His
pace is slow and weary, as he shuffles with his back twisted in a strange way. It’s apparent that his mind is having difficulty recovering from the fake wounds. These suits are extremely efficient in what they are meant to accomplish.

* * *

It’s the finals, and the stomping of the crowd is louder than I’ve ever heard before. The resonance is coming at me in waves that I can almost see pulsating in and out. I can feel vibrations shooting up my spin through the metal seats. They are unrelentingly tickling my nervous system. The heat of the late afternoon is beating down on the large gathering. My stomach loudly growls, begging to be fed. Unfortunately, there’s no lunch for the successful competitors today. Victory is worth this small sacrifice.

Once again, Millie makes an announcement to arena. “Welcome to the finals! The female trainees will be competing first. Let’s have Kinah and Mena in the arena. You know what to do. Strength be with you both!”

Our faces flash on a screen by the announcer’s box, along with our stats from today and the First Trial. The images of the two girls intimidate me, even though I am one of them. I don’t recognize that hard face anymore. It’s not how I feel inside. 

I stand with false confidence—mostly false confidence. My anger and need for retaliation are fueling me on, but I can’t help fearing Kinah and her strength. She is by far the most powerful and physically large female of all the trainees this year.

I anxiously walk to a nondescript gate that opens onto the arena floor. I look through the many faces that watch me from the stands, and I’m instantly drawn to the ruddy complexioned man and petite woman next to him. My parents smile openly at me. Pride and affection swell in my chest over the public display. I know they’re only doing it because they know the crowd is focused on the events in front of them. No one is looking at the United couple sitting nearby, but I don’t care. It means so much to me.

Standing across the course from Kinah, I ready myself for a quick grab at my daggers. I’m going to steal Val’s idea and make a run for it, right around the edge of the course. Kinah holds her mighty club in front of her body. It looks almost like an extension of her powerful arms. She swings her club over her head, mocking me. I keep my focus on her eyes and pretend not to notice her aggressive display.

The alarm blares through the thunder of the stomping feet. That’s my cue to go. I sprint around the perimeter of the arena, tossing out a dagger every eight feet or so. Kinah blocks them all with her club. This idea isn’t working, so I decide not to waste any more of my mock daggers.

Kinah stands close to one of the trees now. On my last unsuccessful lap, I pull in close to the leafy tree and grab hold of the trunk. I use it to swing around and deliver a kick to Kinah’s gut. Unfortunately, she is expecting it. She swings at my approaching figure, but at the last second, I let go of the tree trunk and slide right under her legs. Kinah swings at thin air. Just before I finish my slide maneuver, I forcefully launch a dagger back over my head. It successfully hits the back of my opponent’s thigh. She staggers forward, but not enough to prevent her from countering.

The beast hefts her club over and around toward my head. Being that I’m still on the ground from my slide, I have to roll out of the way. I do so just in time. The club hits the sand a few inches from me. I hurriedly jump up from the ground, while pulling out two daggers.

We stand face to face now, circling one another, waiting for the other to make the first move. As I look into my opponent’s eyes, I realize that I’m calm and no longer nervous. I’m focused on the fight and nothing else.

Kinah doesn’t let us linger in the standoff long. She one-handedly swings her club at my stomach, hoping I can’t duck or jump out of the way in time. I do neither, instead, I run straight into her embrace, knives leading the way. I know this is risky, since I can’t win in a wrestling match against her, but there is no other option.

One of my daggers makes contact. The other dagger gets knocked aside by Kinah’s swinging arms, which take me down as well. I may have been knocked to the ground, but I didn’t get hit with the club.

Kinah doesn’t let on that she’s in pain. She keeps coming at me in full force. This time, she kicks me in the stomach while I’m still down. I cough out in pain, but I force myself to stay focused as I urge my vision to clear. I reach over and rake my knife over Kinah’s ankle as she pulls her foot back to deliver another kick. The cut to her ankle gives me enough time to catch my breath and roll away from her.

After pulling out another dagger, I stand with one in each hand as I face Kinah. Some thought passes over Kinah’s face. When she charges me, I know that she just remembered me not being able to win against her in a wrestling match. I have two seconds to figure out what to do. If I turn around and run the other way, it better be for a good reason or the Exalted will know something’s up. I’ve had plenty of warning from Garret about running away. Kinah will never expect it though, because none of the Exalted or trainees would run away from a fight.