The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent) (21 page)

“Fine. I’ll try it,” I said finally. “But next time, ask before you go ‘upgrading’ my stuff.”

A look of perturbance flashed across Xander’s face at my bossiness, but he nodded and matched my earlier gruff tone. “Fine.”

I smiled, satisfied, then looked to Geri. “And
you
,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “I’m disappointed. Blindly agreeing to anything he asks. In my eyes, you will forever be seen as an ‘it’.” The ultimate robot disgrace.

“You’re hurting his feelings,” Xander said dryly.

Giving an apathetic shrug, I walked over to Xander’s suit.

“I haven’t seen you try on your own armor yet. How do you know that it even works? That it will fly?”

“It works.” His back was now stiffly turned away from me. As I drew near, however, he looked around, taking a deep breath. “Look, I apologize for being short with you—it’s just that I’m trying to prevent you from doing something careless. You need to focus on the Barrage. Nothing more.”

“What you mean to say is that I need to stop worrying about what you may or
may not
be up to behind my back?” My eyes held tightly to his like a clamp.

Loud knocking from the front entrance disrupted our soon to become heated discussion. Xander eyed me before crossing the room to look through the hole that allowed him to see past the dilapidated door. With a sigh, he released the lever, engaging the barrier’s intricate display of unlocking and opening.

“Ah. Dex,” he said. “So glad you finally escaped the girls and the bottom of the bottle to find time to visit.”

Dex stepped inside once the door had finally opened and bowed mockingly, stamping dirt from his boots all over the front entrance as he did so. Xander shook his head before he went about closing and locking the door behind him.

“Ma’lady Emerson.” Dex smiled wryly and winked, tipping his hat to me before making his way over to Xander. They clasped forearms briefly before Dex leaned backwards onto the worktable, crossing his legs. He removed his hat in a flourish and whistled when he spotted our armor sets displayed across the room.

“Yours—” He directed his attention at Xander’s suit. “—looks dark and brooding, much like yourself, with those wings and all. But hot damn! I didn’t know female armor could look so . . .
good
.”

“Eyes to yourself, Dex, before you lose them,” Xander scolded dryly. “Do you have it or not?”

Dex, unaffected by the threat, reached into an interior pocket of his brown trench coat. He tossed over a small black device to Xander, who caught it easily, but frowned at Dex’s lack of care. “I haven’t tested it, but from what I hear, that puppy is one of a kind. She’ll be the only one with the likes of it out there.”

“
She?
” I asked skeptically, confused as to what else Xander had planned to keep a secret from me.

Dex nodded my way, toying with a piece of dried hydroponics straw in his mouth. “It’s a Mass Gravity Absorber. If it works like we hope, it’ll be able to raise your density and make you unmovable. On the other side of that coin, it’ll be able to release that density quickly, making you an unstoppable force.”

“For short bursts, that is,” Xander added. “It should help with your attack power.”

“If it works like you
hope
? What happens if it doesn’t?” I looked between the two of them. “Don’t you think I already have enough to worry about, especially now, having to take care to not break every bone in my body?” Especially when I was the one to use this new toy of theirs.

“Well if you succeed in breaking everyone else’s bones in the process then you’ve done good,” Dex reassured with a smile.

Xander pushed past Dex and picked up my breastplate. “Your armor has been altered to absorb such impacts. Remember the Metallic Microlattice? I’ve added what was left of the airship to stabilize your leg armor.” He stepped closer. “There’s no need to worry,” he said softly so only I could hear.

A soothing reassurance comforted me just then, knowing a part of my grandmother—of her life’s work—would be fighting alongside me.

But still, I remained unconvinced. “As long as I land on my feet,” I muttered heatedly. I wasn’t a cat. “You’re saying this as if you’re certain of its safety when Dex has only
just
delivered it. This Mass Gravity-whatever-you-call-it.”

“Absorber,” Dex supplied.

“Mass Gravity
Absorber
,” I repeated around Xander’s shoulder to humor Dex.

“You can call it the Gravity Defyer,
Lily. Or just
Defyer fo
r short,” Xander added.

Dex stood up, brushing his hands off and looked my way. “Don’t fret. Pretty-boy over there wouldn’t have gotten it if he wasn’t
a hundred percent
certain it wouldn’t endanger you.”

Xander stared at Dex like he could punch him for saying that, but when he looked back, his eyes confirmed the truth.

I sighed. Xander wouldn’t be truly satisfied until he had me garbed in a giant protective bubble while I sat watching him do all the fighting. He’d most likely provide me with a variety of picnicking snacks to mull over too.

“Well then,
Pretty-boy
, would you please program Geri into etching mode? Since you like to do everything else for me.”

Xander narrowed his eyes with a droll look. “You’ll accept the robot’s help, but not mine.”

“Hey, leave Geri out of this,” I said, baiting him. “I’m sure if he had a mouth, he would
ask
if I even wanted his help.”

Xander’s face remained unamused. “So it’s a ‘he’ now too.”

Dex cleared his throat behind us. “
Children
. Sorry to disrupt this bla-bla-witty-repartee of yours . . . but I’m feelin’ awkward.” He pointed towards the door. “Which means it’s my cue to leave.”
 

Ignoring Xander, I turned to Dex. “It was good seeing you again. Sorry for being such disagreeable hosts.”

Dex shrugged. “No worries. Xander’s always disagreeable and a bad host. Doesn’t hurt my feelings none,” he said with a wink.

Picking up my clamp and etching tool, I smiled at Dex in farewell before making my way over to my suit. If I was going to carve this design, it was now or never.

Every motivation needed a symbol, and I had the perfect one in mind. Just like fighting without a cause, the suit would be incomplete without it.

Chapter 21

A Dress Rehearsal Cut Short

Later that same night, I waved the boys away, hoping I wouldn’t need their help while I suited up for training. Dex had insisted he stay and help us in the arena, giving what advice he had and providing us with an extra target if necessary.

In my mind, this was a full blown dress rehearsal in preparation of the final dance. A dress rehearsal minus the face powders and hair pins, and lace . . . mustn’t ever forget the dreadful lace.

Mustn’t ever forget . . . the lace?
An image of lace and blood, of screams and heat—whispered into my mind. I shook my head, not understanding why I was suddenly somber with fatigue as I finished the last two bites of my rice supper. Pushing the feeling aside I got to my feet, plate in hand.

With Geri’s help, I’d only just recently finished carving the design on my breastplate and shield before making my way to the kitchen. It’d taken me longer than I expected, not realizing I had to work around a circular hole that Xander had cut from my breastplate to accommodate for the Defyer he was to add later. With numbed and bruised fingers, I cleaned my dishes and walked hesitantly into the hanger.

I felt both energized and drained, anxious and scared. It all came down to the proficiency of my armor. Would it protect me? Could I even stand while wearing it?

I guess I’m about to find out
.

Stepping over to my armor, I rearranged it so I could slip into the first layer—a fibrous and strongly-woven jumpsuit I had made. I decided that having an extra layer of protective skin wasn’t such a bad idea. And thanks to Mrs. Birkshire’s highly analytical sewing and knitting lessons, I managed the task easily.
 

In years past, female participants, though few and far between, sought out a more theatrical type of armor that would woo both the audience and their opponents with their . . . feminine prowess
?
Predictably, they never made it very far past the first or second rounds. I personally had no desire for my femoral arteries to be slashed open, nor did I care to have my vital organs exposed to attack regardless of what I looked like.

I struggled with the skin tight suit, pulling it almost to my neck. Once jostled into the correct positioning, I leaped about, testing its flexibility. Smiling, I released a tense breath. It was an agreeable fit. It
was
like being bandaged into an extra layer of protective skin.

Pleased by the success of the jumpsuit and eager to discover how well the rest would work, I strapped on my breastplate, forearm, thigh, and shin armor before finally guiding on the spiked lotus-bulbed shoulder pauldrons.

I felt stronger. Ready even.

The last thing I need is a swelled head of overconfidence,
I reprimanded myself. We would see in tonight’s practice just how well I would manage to fight in this protective ensemble of metal. I picked up an axe from the table.
At least I can walk from point A to point B?
My mind was running low on clever ways to encourage myself.

I retrieved my helm, fitting it snugly over my head. The opening in the front allowed my face to be free from obstruction. I specifically asked for this. If I couldn’t see what I was fighting, I might as well surrender now.

I took a deep breath before I rounded the corner and walked silently through the moonlit corridor that led to the training yard.

Dex and Xander were already going at it by the time I arrived. Dex’s trench coat sailed out around him as he deflected a near hit. I could tell Xander saw me from the corner of his eye, distracting him for the briefest of moments. Dex wasted no time, removing his feet from beneath him and sent Xander sprawling on the ground before me.

Covering my mouth with my fist, I tried not to smile. Xander wasn’t the type to be caught off guard. Though . . . I could already count three times during the span he’d known me in which he had: Tonight with Dex, once after hitting my wounded elbow, and once in the Outlands when I . . . was deranged.
Abnormal.

Spitting sand from his mouth, Xander pushed himself to his feet. “Lucky shot.”

“One shot of luck is all I need to win. And it’s called
Bourbon
.” Dex turned, eyeing me with a newfound respect. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? To the strictest sense of the word
,
I might add. Xander lit up the right side of my face just before you arrived.”

I chuckled and entered into the arena. “So . . . how are we going to do thi—”

Before I knew what was happening, Dex grabbed my bracered wrist and had me soaring towards him, my heavily armored body feeling nothing as I thudded deep into the sand. Dex quickly repositioned himself so that I now lay underneath him with a dagger held steady at my throat.

“So . . . you’re dead,” he criticized down to me.

I managed a surprised look only momentarily before I saw Xander’s boot impact Dex squarely in the ribs, sending him reeling away from me. Xander straddled him, wrenching the knife away from his hand. “
I’m
the one who will be training Lily tonight.” Xander said with a quiet coldness. “So keep your cruddy daggers to yourself.”

 
Dex’s nostrils flared. “I was doin’
exactly
what you asked me to. I was givin’ her an opponent to fight against. You think I would intentionally hurt her?”

I pushed off my helm and rushed to stand between the two.

“Xander, he was only trying to help. I’m fine.”

Xander looked from me and back down to Dex, hard, as if to assess his motives and responded, “I know. Just keep your weapons out of the arena. I want Lily to learn the basics of her suit and axes right now, nothing more.”

Dex rolled his eyes and stood, mumbling something unsavory under his breath, no doubt at Xander’s expense. Xander ignored him as his eyes perused over me from head to toe, evaluating my new armored appearance. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the engraving on my breastplate for the first time. “Subtle design, was it? The Council will get a kick out of that for sure. I approve of the way you think. Upon
occasion, that is
.” He nodded slightly my way before looking at me sincerely. “You look
remarkable
.”

I blushed and returned a nod in thanks.

It was difficult, but I managed to carve a large spiraling tree across my breastplate and shield, letting it be known that I, Lily Emerson, fought for the Outlands.

“Remember when I told you to alternate pace? To change your speed so your opponent won’t know when you’ll attack?” Xander asked suddenly.

I nodded again.

“Well, forget that.” Xander approached me then. “It’s not going to be that easy with an axe. Physical combat and swords, yes, but axes have a unique fighting style all of their own.”

Gripping the handles of my axes, I brought them into a ready position, anxious to begin my first bout of armored training.

Xander continued, “Though with an axe—every part of it can be used. Unlike swords where the blade is utilized the most, with an axe you can cleave and slice with the edge, but also bludgeon with the axe head or hilt. You’ll have to see an opening and know for certain that’s what you want otherwise you’ll be thrown off balance if you try to correct yourself.”

He looked at me sternly. “That means no hesitation.”

He gestured for Dex to stand a mere foot in front of me. “If you find yourself in close combat and do not have room to leverage for a swing . . .” He approached me as I held the axe. “Loosen your grip,” he whispered. I did and watched the axe’s head fall to my hand. Wrapping his hand around mine, he forced my fingers into a fist, then thrust out like he would a punch. Dex ducked backwards and frowned. But Xander continued, “Use the axe in any way that you can. But give yourself distance from your opponent at the first opportunity.”

“Play keep away. Got it,” I said.

“May I?” he asked, reaching for my axe again, wanting to demonstrate.

I nodded and handed it over.

“Dex, forget what I said earlier and lunge at me with your cruddy dagger.”

Dex eyed him. “With pleasure.” Reaching into his jacket he produced his dagger and didn’t hesitate to lunge straight at Xander’s chest. My eyes widened just before Xander side-stepped and used the handle of my axe to push the blade away, then swung his elbow to deliver a blow to Dex’s jaw. Dex groaned and rubbed his face, straightening. “Lucky shot,” he mumbled, echoing Xander’s earlier tone.

Xander turned back to me. “See? You can use the shaft to parry or block, depending on your opponent’s weapon. Reaching down to the sand, he locked the axe to my shield and tossed the combination to Dex who caught it easily.

Taking the other axe from me, he approached Dex. “The spiked edges of your axe can also hook an opponent’s shield away, but I wouldn’t recommend doing that. It’s just as easy for them to pull you towards them—exposing your outstretched arm to a downwards swinging blade.” He demonstrated with Dex and I had to bite my lip, trying hard to not think about having one of my limbs amputated.

“And something else I wouldn’t recommend is throwing your axe at an opponent unless you absolutely have to. Like I said before, it’s difficult to pry them loose once they’re lodged. That means in bone too.”

Trying not to cringe, I nodded, becoming concerned I wasn’t taking this all in. It seemed all I was capable of was nodding, my voice suddenly lost to me. And my mind too, began to doubt.
Why was it that I wanted to dual wield axes again? They’re brutally horrifying!
Xander noticed my face, and as he went to grab a sparring pole beside me, he whispered, “You’re the one who chose this remember?” He wasn’t only referring to the axes.

All of these nasty particulars were making me want to train at long range. “I know you don’t approve, but I’d still like to practice throwing. Just in case.” I said, ignoring Xander’s face and including Dex into the conversation. I straightened, masking my worry. “Do we have anything to throw them
at
?” I looked around, spotting only the sparring pillars with rope curled up their length. “I’ll be right back,” I said suddenly as I trotted backwards towards the door. “I think I might know of something.”

Xander and Dex looked at each other in silent question. Dex shrugged in response.

Smiling, I held a quick pace past the kitchens and down the main corridor that led to the workshop. I skidded to a halt once I reached the chalkboard, knowing it had worked pretty well before. Kicking the wheels into position, I started pulling it towards the training yard door—only to slow halfway across the room—the fine hairs on my arms standing tall beneath my jumpsuit. I blinked slowly. I could feel the exhalation of breath traverse weightlessly across my lips.

Something was wrong.

Before I had a chance for a second thought, something hard and metallic shot through the brick wall closest to the front entrance, forcing me to shield my eyes. I lowered my forearm, looking to the ground. A bronzed ball rolled near my feet and in a daze I saw that it was spiked and emitting a low hum of malicious intent.

Acting on instinct, I unglued my eyes from it and dove to the floor, covering my exposed head and neck.

The spiked ball suddenly shrieked an awful sound, piercing deep inside my head, to the very bone itself. The noise was so immense that my hands covering my ears were a useless protection. The sound reached a piercing crescendo and then suddenly—

Silence.

Though the ball now lay still, the shrill ringing continued to reverberate inside my head. I tensed my entire body again.

The danger had not subsided; it was only just beginning.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, a bolt of hot energy propelled itself forcefully into my side, sending me flying across the room. Time stood still as a wave of tools, tables, shards of wood—all soared backwards with me. I braced myself, but all I could do was clench my teeth. I had no control over my body.

I slammed through a wall and crashed to the floor in a massive heap of body and armor. Glass rained down upon me as my face hit the blue tile of the kitchen floor. My senses dimmed as I lay there. Daring to open my eyes, I looked foggily at the transparent reflection of myself in a piece of broken glass that lay close to my face. Blinking heavily, I focused my breathing as I stared into the dirty glass, the girl who stared back, strange and unfamiliar.

Through the persistent ringing in my ears, I heard the lilting music from the tinker box my grandmother had given to me as a small girl, its notes bouncing around listlessly in my head.