Jaya casts a spell I can’t hear, but everyone sees the blaze of red shoot from her left hand. Her opponent, who based on the cheers is called Ax, ducks, rolls, and manifests a shield to block any residual magic. And there is magic to spare, because Jaya’s power smashes against the sphere where Ax once stood and spatters outward and against his crouched defense. Before he can rise, Jaya is standing over him. With orange magic no doubt, she beats down on the shield like a red-hot hammer and it breaks, allowing Jaya’s fist to plow into Ax’s arm.Crack!Something shatters and the audience bursts into another horrid roar. All around me, wizards surge forward. My body’s sweat and smell meshes with those of the crowd. I’ve become one of them. Even if I wanted to, I can’t turn away and retreat.
Jaya glides backward, giving Ax, who’s nursing his freshly broken arm, space. She’s drawing this out. In a real fight it would have been best to cast another spell to defeat him. This is all for show, a painful, bloody game. How can this be the same girl who threw herself at death’s feet to save a thief? Does my father know she does this?
Ax stands, cradling his broken arm. It’s already swollen to twice its normal size. He’s casting, shooting pink healing magic and orange morphine down to the bone to override the pain as he and Jaya circle each other. So that’s why she retreated. She wanted him to mend the damage she’s done.
Ax sends off small spells that Jaya either ducks or blocks. They become a tangled battle of purple-red movement. Now it’s just a question of who will get hit first. It’s Ax. A stream of red strikes him in the foot and twists his leg. He sways a bit, but nothing else happens. The two continue their fight. Ax looks restless, though, glancing frequently between Jaya and his foot. He’s probably wondering what the spell was as much as I am.
Suddenly, Ax seems to have had enough. A purple blast ignites the air. Flames burst from Ax’s good arm and swallow half the dome. All anyone can see is Ax pelting streams of fire in Jaya’s direction. Jaya throws both hands up, and then disappears from view. I jolt forward, but can’t go anywhere.She gave you a chance, you bastard!
Ax falls to one knee, but keeps chanting the fire spell. It’s about to engulf the entire dome, Ax included. The idiot. Wizards and witches on the other side of the arena holler. A red halo blooms over the sphere. Jaya, she’s containing it, making an orb of yellow and purple magic to suck away at Ax’s spell. The red streams streak the ring, so bright many cover their eyes. I raise a hand, but I don’t dare look away. She’s there in the brightness, walking forward, chanting, arms outstretched and swirling in a circular motion.
In one blink, both color and light disappear. The purple flames vanish and the red container evaporates. Jaya stands, while Ax hunches, panting.
“Smoke, Smoke, Smoke,” the crowd chants. Their voices toll in thumping unison.
“What?” I shout to the wizard next to me. “What are you saying?”
“Smoke!” he yells, and points to the girl in further answer. “Jaya Smoke.”
Oh my Gods, why hadn’t I pulled it all together sooner? Jaya was Agent Smoke. This girl was an undercover agent in the underground cage-casting ring. What had my father done? Or worse, what had Adraamadeher do?
Jaya sends one last puff of red magic at Ax, and it nuzzles his cheek before making him slump sideways. What the blood was that? The dome clicks free at the top and pulls apart into two halves, like an egg cracked open. When it has completely collapsed, a bearded man comes forward and raises Jaya’s left arm above her head. The audience cheers, claps, makes any noise it can to signal its appreciation.
“Smoke, Smoke, Smoke,” people continue to chant.
Jaya Smoke beats the air with her fist, victory splashed across her features. Then she walks out of the dome and toward the black hole where fighters enter and exit. And that’s when a new emotion runs across her face. She doesn’t like this, does she? I look at the wizard Ax, slumped in the dome. If she had wanted to kill him he would be dead.
Who are you really, Jaya?I push against the crowds. I am going to find out.
I can’t very well follow Jaya into the black hole she has disappeared into. That would involve jumping onstage. Too public and noticeable unless I use powerful black magic. I spot the only other entrance that might lead to the back. A large wizard stands in front of it. I can’t squeeze by him, even cloaked in a conceal spell. Black magic confuses the eyes, not the sense of touch or physical mass. Black hole onstage, it is.
I wait for the next two fighters to enter the ring. While the announcer calls out their stats, I cast the most powerful camouflaging spell I have. In this dim, smoky environment, I fade from existence. A roar reverberates behind me as the two wizards begin dueling. I climb the platform and slink toward the curtained threshold. The curtain is probably only here to notify people of a black magic user. Most homes typically fasten hidden bells at the top of the doorframe so they ring at any movement. There are no bells here, and yet I still lift the curtain fast, not wanting anyone to notice fabric moving on its own. Behind the material a few meters of hallway stretch to meet a door. I uncast the spell and power walk. If I get caught now I can talk my way out of it. Get caught in black magic concealment spells and you are guilty automatically, no matter the circumstance.
The door is locked. Typical. With a quick blast of air under the frame, the metal plate on the other side swooshes back with a clang. I open the door to find more hallway, with noise brewing from a door at the end. The best camouflage is acting like I belong here, no doubt.
I’m walking toward the noise when a bulky hand grasps my shoulder. “You’re not supposed to be here. Fighters only.” I turn to find a wizard even taller than Kalyan. He’s got a lot of meat on his bones, muscles with a padding of fat. I don’t want to have to fight him.
I shrug off the hand and face him chest to chest. “I’m looking for Jaya.”
“Yeah, you and every other stalker I’ve found back here.” The words pull at me. Gods, how much unwanted attention has she received from cage casting while on her mission?
“I’m a friend.” I hope she vouches for me; that is, if I ever get past this beast of a man. She had thanked me the other day for helping when she burned out, so there’s that. We might be friends in her mind. I hope she deems us friendly at least.
He laughs. “Yeah, we all have that fantasy. Now get the blood out.” He pushes my shoulder and I let myself stumble. Distance is better for purple dueling spells.
I pivot to another tactic. “I want to talk to Sims.”
He starts a little, then regenerates the stern frown. “You friends with him too?”
“Never met, but he’ll be interested in what I have to say.”
“Oh yeah, what would he be interested in from you?”
Blood! I wish Agent Smoke had furnished a description in that report. But at least I know whom I’m dealing with now. I open my mouth.
“Hey,” a voice rings out.
Sims and I both turn. It’s…her, standing there. No bloody face. No confused air. In fact, this girl is way too pretty and way too put together for someone who almost got burned alive. But here she is. Jaya and Agent Smoke, wrapped into one, and again barging in for the save. Guess it did look like I needed rescuing. She takes a few quick steps forward so she is the third point in our hostile triangle. “He’s with me, Sims.”
