The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent) (28 page)

Time slowed into mere molecules of matter as I drove my arm into my side, lifting my legs as the muscles knew to do and cartwheeled in the air above him, my shield arm outstretched towards his face. We caught sight of one another as I passed above, a look of awed respect flooded his expression—just before my shield hit home. I felt both bone and skin compress as my shield connected with his skull.

Time reformed as I skidded across the ground and landed awkwardly onto my knees. Bubbles had been rocked by my assault but not downed. He held one large hand to the back of his head.

This was my only opportunity.

Reacting quickly, I sprinted towards him.

Thinking of a particular aerial leap combined with one of the ground takedowns Xander had shown me, I grasped Bubble’s shoulders, swinging myself around him and using the momentum to slam his body forcefully to the dirt.

 
Bubbles rolled beneath me and I mounted his wide girth quickly while the vibration of the impact still coursed through my body. He grunted as my knees shoved into his sides. Releasing the shield from my left axe, I tossed it aside and crossed both axes at his exposed throat.

Blood welled up from the pressure I applied. The crowd cheered their accord, the sound becoming only a distance echo to my ears.

Breathing heavily, I glanced up just in time to see Xander finish off Henry. Grabbing his head, Xander slammed his armored knee into his unprotected face. Harnister crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

Bubble’s chest heaved below me, snapping me back to attention—to the axes I held at his neck.

The crowd roared again, wanting action.

For a brief moment I looked up a second time—and what I saw gave me pause. The little boy from Sector 3, Hugo’s nephew, stood on his toes, trying to overlook the standing crowd before him. He was the only focused thing among the blur of faces. His eyes were sad. He had just lost his uncle to the Barrage. He could not be denied his hero too.

“
The brave love mercy . . .
”
the voice of the chalk-covered man in the street echoed throughout my head, invading my senses.

I could feel my nostrils flare as I held the axes firmly to Bubble’s throat. “Concede!” I growled. “Say it!”

Bubbles looked at me resolutely, unmoving, unblinking.

“Get away from him!” I heard Xander shout as he maneuvered across the broken terrain towards us. Wall after wall of spiked fences had shot through the air in his path, making him pivot and dodge his way through them like a maze.

I glanced his way, angry tears gathering. I returned my gaze to Bubble’s dirty face. Blood trailed from his scalp where my shield had hit home, small droplets mixing with the sweat at his temple. His mustache pricked as he regarded me coolly.

“Save your pride for someone who cares! Say it!” I cried.

“Lily! MOVE!” Xander shouted from a distance.

Bubbles blinked for the first time—quickly bucking his enormous body which sent me flying from my hold. Bubbles knocked both my axes from my grasp and flipped me to my back—into the same positioning I had him in moments before. Bubbles held my arms down as I kicked and tried to shimmy my way from beneath the large mass of his body. “You should’ve done it girlie. I’m sorry, but I have to save my Sector.”

Panicking, I glanced sideways and saw that Xander—on his attempt to reach me—had been trapped by another wall of spiked fences. This fence’s design, however, sprung forth from the ground shaped differently than the others, boxing him in entirely.

The Council apparently had their cruel partaking in the situation.

Xander roared a guttural sound of pure hatred before finally deploying his mechanical wings and jets. The wings
swooshed
at his sides and in his fury to get to me, looked very much like my own Angel of Death, trapped and enraged.

Both Bubbles and I watched in shocked awe as he surged upwards and rammed his armored body through the enclosure, sending an array of blue sparks and broken pieces of iron fencing to the sky. Xander’s mechanical wings extended to their full length as he reached his apex, a shadow momentarily blotting out the sun.

Bubble’s hold was firm. I grunted as I tried to wring my wrists from him. He continued to pin me, though that’s all he did as even he sat impressed by Xander’s menacing aerial display.

“Hit your Defyer!” Xander yelled desperately in my direction. “Do it NOW!”

I couldn’t budge under the muscle of Bubble’s massive arms to reach anywhere near the middle of my chest. Why would the Defyer have helped anyways? Gravity was not what I needed—I was already being crushed beneath his massive weight.

Snapping out of his daze, Bubbles looked down at me with determined eyes. “I’m sorry . . . I gotta’ make this look real.”

Bubbles suddenly released one of my wrists and loosened the Cestus from his fist in a hidden way, dropping the spike away from his knuckles. Taking the opportunity, I quickly stretched out, trying to grab hold of the axe I saw in my peripheral. My bloodied fingers clawed into the dirt. My axe lying just out of their reach.

My heart’s echo thudded in my ears. I knew what was coming.

I turned my head back, preparing to face it. Wanted him to look me in the eyes as he did it.

“I’m sorry,” Bubbles gruffed out again just before a brilliant white searing pain cracked and shot through the side of my face like a lightning strike. The muscles of my neck spasmed as my head slammed into the dirt behind me. Bubble’s un-Cestused fist had still connected hard, causing one eye to ignite into a blooming hot light while the other dimmed.

I gasped both from the pain and in relief as I felt Bubble’s weight get suddenly propelled from me. A commotion broke out below my feet, sounding as though two large masses had just collided into an explosion of metal.

Reaching at my sides, I patted the ground uselessly blind as I tried to feel for my axe. But all that my fingers found were open fissures in the cracked dirt. Fissure that weren’t there moments before. I tried to lift my head to find my axe, but my vision swam. The sky above me swirled and I couldn’t quite gather what was up from down. Judging by the broken earth spreading from me like jagged wounds, Bubbles had removed the spike from his Cestus, but not the impact-enabled sonic discharge.

I lifted a hand to my face. My left eye felt odd and I could now only see a thin sliver of sky past my eyelashes—it was swelling quickly and not responding to me wanting to blink.
  
 

A horn blew loudly, echoing throughout my head.

The crowd went silent as the amplifier to the Magistrate’s box sounded, the feedback, another piercing echo.

“This bout of the round has ended. Stop the fighting. We have reached a tie as it stands currently.”

A tie?
Were ties even allowed?

I managed to raise my head just enough to see that Bubbles lay belly-down to the dirt, his closely shaven head pulled backwards with a blade held to his throat. Xander stood over him, his nostrils flaring as he considered the Magistrate’s words. With Harnister already down and Bubbles not far behind, it didn’t look like much of tie to me.

When did they begin stopping the fights?

“Two of the competitors have been disabled: Lady Emerson and Henry Harnister.” A pause. “Do you wish to continue this fight later? A half hour break to recoup is all that is allowed,” the Magistrate called out across the loud speakers.

Xander growled savagely as he shoved Bubble’s face to the ground, sourly relenting the blade from his throat. I was barely aware of the swift footfalls that sounded beside me as he approached, his helm illuminated by the sun from behind. His face dark, and not because of the shadow.

His eyes scrunched through the slits in his helm—he was wincing from what he saw.

“
Bones
,
Lily
.
”

“I’m fine. We must continue . . .” I tried to say, but the words came out malformed, jumbled.

Xander removed his helm, throwing it to the ground with a cold fury. He shouted towards the crowd and the Magistrate, his chest vibrating with an angry resentment with each word, “We’re removing ourselves from round one. We forfeit into the elimination rounds.”

No
.

Xander then kneeled and supported my lower back and knees, carefully lifting my armored body against his. My head lolled unrestrained from the motion, making me feel sick. He supported my face to the cold steel of his plated chest when I unconsciously groaned.

A shocked gasp traveled through the audience. Shouts of disapproval erupted all around before becoming quiet once more.

“If that is what you desire, then it shall be so. Victory this day goes to Sector 6!”

I wanted to tell Xander no, that I could fight. It wouldn’t be much longer before I got my head on straight. I tried to speak, but the words never formed.

Frustrated and angry that he would decide such a thing without me, I tried to sit up, but couldn’t. Now that the fighting was over, the adrenaline began to fade, leaving a throbbing ache in the left side of my cheek. The crowd sounded like buzzing insects, making my temples throb even more.

Xander’s shadowed face looked down to mine beneath the blinding sun.

“I’m taking you away from this. Don’t fight it,” he said.

And this time I listened. I knew nothing more as I succumbed to the pleasant calm of darkness.

Chapter 29

First Scars

Two head traumas in the span of one week proved to be a major headache. My temples pounded in a frantic rhythm as I lay staring into the darkness of our little hut. Only a small light emanated from the far corner, casting shadows upon the wall. Falling unconscious from a blow could never be compared to what it felt like after having one of my episodes. There was no pain afterwards. I would prefer my condition over this any day.

My cheek felt numb and my left eye was refusing to cooperate. I tentatively reached up to touch the side of my face only to have someone stop me.

“Don’t. You’ll not want to risk infection.”

“Xander?” I asked hesitantly, searching him out in the darkness beside me. He lit a candle and sat it before him, illuminating the hard planes of his face. The area beneath his eyes was darker than usual, his cheeks shadowed with stubble. He looked
exhausted.

“Your left eye is quite swollen, but it should heal. Here—” He reached over, crinkling something in his hand. “Lie this over your cheek for a while.”

I grimaced at the thought. “That bad?”

Xander didn’t respond, just handed over what I soon noticed was a frozen sack of beans wrapped in cloth.

“Why is it that I always find myself beat up and bullied and in need of healing when I’m around you?” I said, grinning weakly as I took the cold sack, but winced when a pain shot through my cheek.

“You’ll have a scar,” Xander said suddenly. “The force of the impact broke open your skin, forming a jagged line from just above your eyebrow to the top of your cheek. I tried to clean it as best I could, but . . . I cannot promise it will heal smoothly.”

I shot my hand up again to feel the abrasions of my face only to find Xander gathering my fingers into his.

“You’re beautiful. Nothing will ever change that,” he said softly, his tone surprising me.

I bit back the emotion that choked at me.
Had Xander sat at my bedside all night? Until I awoke?

Xander released my hand and I swallowed, looking away. “Bubbles didn’t want to hurt me. I saw it in his eyes. He even loosened the Cestus beforehand. If he didn’t, I . . . I would undoubtedly be dead,” I stammered out in defense of a man I didn’t even know.

“Yes, very kind of him to leave the sonic charge enabled too. The shock wave through your face added a nice dramatic touch.” Xander sighed, realizing I wasn’t smiling. “When I saw you hesitate, and how he took advantage of it—” He paused, his savage eyes haunting me. “I nearly lost it. Nothing was going to stop me from getting to you.
Nothing
.” He swallowed, his turn to look away. “Not all will be as forgiving as Bubbles. Next time—”

I frowned, a sorrowed pressure threating to build in my chest and clot behind my throat. “Next time? I do not want to kill
anyone
,” I said exhaustedly. “Not even Scottie.” I brought my fingers to rest at my hairline. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind breaking every one of his grubby fingers. Someone needs to teach him to keep his paws to himself.” I blinked. “For Hugo though, he deserves much worse.”

Xander eyed me curiously, but thankfully didn’t ask. “I suppose I’ll just have to deal with the others on my own terms before they even get to you.”

I scoffed weakly. “Were you even there today? The Council decides what happens in the Barrage. They’ll make sure to get the outcome they’re looking for. If they want me to fight the biggest and the baddest, they’ll find a way to spilt us up.”

Xander gave me a look. “I know. I was only kidding.”

Somehow, I don’t think he was.

I sighed, my thoughts running rampant. “And why did the Council stop the fight? That’s
never
happened. You heard what they allowed to happen to Hugo? Why now? Why with us?”

Xander shook his head as he straightened in his chair. “I have two theories. One being quite plausible and the other . . . well, I’m not so sure you’ll agree with.”

“Agree with what?” I asked curious.

“Either the Council fears you progressing further and knew I was about to . . .” He paused, thinking of my sensitivity with the issue.

“—about to kill Bubbles and win the match?” I finished for him. “Go on.”

“Yes. Or perhaps, your parents really do love you and asserted their authority, knowing you couldn’t handle a higher ranking match so soon after such an injury.”

He was right. I did not
at all
agree with the latter scenario. I sighed heavily in my frustration. “I know it was hardly due to my parent’s consideration. Whatever the reason may be, the Council is up to something.”

Xander didn’t argue as he sat back against his chair again, his jaw tense in thought. “Earlier today while you slept, the announcement was made that Sector 2 is to fight Sector 5 tomorrow at dawn. Later, Sector 1 will go up against Sector 4.”

I pursed my lips and furrowed my brow, recalling the Drawing. “So that means Venator versus the Gatling gun? Crescent Knives versus Klaives?”

He nodded.

“Does anyone even know what kind of beasts Sector 2 will be fighting with?” I was extremely curious. Venator was one of the fighting specialties that intrigued me the most.

“No. No one knows yet. Percival and Fin have kept themselves well hidden so far.”

I cringed as an image of Percival flashed into my mind.

“What’s wrong?” Xander asked, sitting forward some.

 
“Nothing, it’s just that Percival gives me the creeps. I’m not sure what I think about Fin yet, but there’s definitely something about Percival that makes me worry.”
It was a bone deep intuition that I could not explain to Xander, to
anyone
, that made me wary of him.
“He looks like the type who would stand in the shadows and watch girls undress, and then once he got his fill, he’d kill them and then . . . oh, I don’t know, eat them or something.”

Xander made a face. “I’m not sure I had that
exact
impression, but yes there is something off about him.”

We both stared at one another in a mocking, glazed wide-eyed glare, mimicking Percival. I smiled weakly, breaking eye contact first and groaned, forgetting to not play around with facial expressions when my face pained me so. “
Ow
—that’s what I get for making fun.”

“Sorry.” Xander grinned, but then his smile seemed to wilt, a hidden knowledge of remorse transpired across his features before he masked it by looking down at his hands.

“So. Question . . . ?” I began, not understanding why he looked so troubled. “This means we’ll be fighting one of the two who will be defeated from those rounds tomorrow?”

“Yes. We’ll fight again in two days’ time. You rest until then.” He patted the top of my leg before standing up. “Now that you’re awake, I have business with Dex. I’ll return within the hour. Get some sleep—your body needs time to heal.”

I nodded lazily, too tired to question him what this meeting would be about.

He bounded for the door. “The force field is set,” he added, his dark cloak spinning in the air as he wrapped it squarely around his shoulders. He turned to me as he flicked the large shadowing hood over his head. “So, Lily . . . dream away.”

And with that he was gone, leaving me alone to the quiet and dim flickering of the candlelight.

~

Sleep?
Right
.

I watched the shadows that the light played upon the wall for a short while, trying to will myself back into unconsciousness.

Huffing as I sat up, I realized it was to no use trying. I was too anxious to see my face and the damage that it had suffered. After retrieving the candle and making sure it was secure in its holder, I gingerly placed my bare feet onto the cold floorboards and felt my way to the washroom. I pushed outwards when my fingers felt the rough texture of the door, the candlelight instantly flooding the small space beyond.

Hesitatingly, I shuffled over to the mirror, my eyes curious of what was to be seen. The soft glow of the candlelight illuminated the planes of my face, the shadows again dancing upon my cheeks. I regarded the girl before me with an open coolness. The naive Lily Emerson, the daughter of the Head was now gone, replaced with someone whom I could better respect.

I was Lily Emerson. The
fighter
.

Reaching up, I trailed my finger along the line of the wound that carved over my eye and down my cheek. The same side of my face that was swollen and with an eyelid that was nearly black in color.

My eye would heal, but Xander was right. There would be a scar.
No
—I would not pity myself. I would use this as a sign, a symbol of mercy to remind myself of the person that I am, and not who
they
want me to be. I could’ve killed Bubbles McGee today, but I didn’t. And for that brief moment of hesitation, I am grateful. Grateful for the inner voice that stayed my hand.

Looking down, I caught sight of my dirty and bruised cuticles. I would always trade beauty if it meant I would have the option to save a life. Any life is a life worth saving. One may never know when that soul’s true purpose can tilt between evil and good. That one small teetering hope can be the spark that creates something beautiful, something that can save others.
Who was I to judge someone’s true worth?

Bubbles McGee was a good man at heart, I could tell. He was only caught up in the mess that the Council threw at us. He wanted to provide for his Sector, to change the Law, not kill irrationally.

I looked to the savage stranger in the mirror again.

I liked what I saw.

~

The hot water beaded down my bruised body, steaming the small enclosed space of the washroom in a humid cloud. The soothing warm caress of the shower kneaded deep into my sore muscles, allowing my mind to drift. My fingers ran down the length of my hair—only to hesitate when a loud
noise
boomed from the front of the hut. Dropping my heavy hair, I watched as a purple wave of energy rippled across the wall of the shower next to me.

Xander shouldn’t be back yet
. A pang of unease began to swell in my chest.

Frowning, I stepped out of the tub, quickly wrapping a towel around my body. I hesitatingly approached the chill of the main room, my eyes teetering between both the front door and to the container that held my axes. Dripping wet, I inched my way towards the container, one barefoot over the other. “Who’s there?” I shouted loud enough so to be heard beyond the force field.

A large groan emanated from the front porch. “Lily? It’s me, McGee. I’ve come to apologize . . . for what I did to yer face.”

Giving a relieved sigh, I allowed myself a small smile, realizing the force field had knocked Bubbles from the porch when he’d obviously tried to approach the hut. I stood awkwardly a few feet from the door, holding my towel close while my hair dripped chilled water onto the tops of my feet.

“I forgive you. You had to do what needed to be done.”

He groaned again and from the sound of it I could tell he was trying to stand. “What in the world do you hav’ on yer door ‘ere girl? Bout blew me skyward . . .”

I scrunched my face sympathetically. “Uh, yes, sorry about that. It’s Xander’s new security system as it were.”

“It wouldn’t hav’ hurt the boy to put up a sign—warnin’ somebody ‘bout it,” he grumbled.

“That would sort of defeat the purpose,” I added, tentatively. “I’m sorry Bubbles. We didn’t plan to have guests. You know, only the possibility of the throat slitting variety.” I cringed at my ill attempt at humor.

Bubbles scoffed. “The boy needn’t worry. I think
you
, girlie, can hold yer own. You’re quite the scrapper when it comes down to it.”

Bubbles paused, waiting for a response, but I didn’t have words for that. “Look ‘ere though. I don’t pride myself on beatin’ on women . . . I’m . . . I’m sorry about havin’ to smash a pretty face such as yers. I hope the damage isn’t too bad?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said hoarsely as I leaned my back and wet hair against the door.

“No really. I feel like shite ‘bout it. Especially since you went and spared my thick neck like ya did . . . I—”

“—Think nothing of it,” I said, cutting him off, knowing there may be voice recognizers outside trying to gleam any and all of our conversation.