Cera, Zorrah, and I stand our ground in an elevated corner of the combat chamber. Scattered around us like human shrapnel, fellow members of Serpent 6 writhe in pain.
“Ten o’clock high!”
Exhausted, I throw up rubbery arms. The three of us combine to temporarily deflect a crackling EM assault.
Using the dregs of my mental energy, I hail Olin telepathically. We’re pinned and getting slaughtered. We’ve gotta launch an offensive now. Static pops inside my head until I center on Olin’s voice.
Coordinates. Come on, Calli. Concentrate, he says.
I shake off the fog. Can you see Ami?
Sector B-6, square in the middle of the chamber.
Converge there on my order.
Olin hesitates. Are you nuts? Half of us will get stunned on the way in.
I grit my teeth. Just make sure you aren’t one of them. We’re ending this as soon as we get there, you and me together. There’s a long pause, and I worry Olin has been stunned. Olintl?
Give me a second to spread the word.
I realize I have to do the same with the groundlings. “Zorrah, Cera!” Before I can convey the new plan, Cera lowers a shoulder into my stomach and bulls me behind a low barrier wall. I land hard on my back as the chamber above us explodes with a sudden EM storm.
Dark red, nearly black, the storm bears the signature of Jaguar 4—the Jags under Ami’s leadership. I struggle to inhale a full breath. “How are they drawing so much energy?” Cera grunts and rolls off of me. I jerk suddenly and sit up. “Zorrah?” I scramble from behind the barrier on all fours. “Zorrah!” I locate her piled on top of another of our Serpent compadres, unconscious and twitching.
“Xoxochueyi.” I duck behind the barrier and grab Cera’s hand. “Round up everyone still mobile. We’re charging B-6 ASAP.”
Surprise rises in Cera’s eyes momentarily. “Right.” We pick each other up and burst out opposite sides of the barrier.
“Serpents!” I muster reserves of grit and rage. “B-6 on my lead! We end this now!” I snag the arm of a teetering boy I barely recognize, apparently a new transfer, and yank him along in my wake until he’s running on his own two feet. I hail Olin. Now. Go now.
On our way, sis. I hope for your sake this works.
It’ll work. I know it will. I just hope we’re not overplaying our hand. Six months into our first year of the academy, and Olin hasn’t yet revealed half his abilities. During the academy’s thousand-year history, I doubt anyone has done what we are about to.
I concentrate on establishing a smooth running rhythm with Cera keeping pace on my right. I scan the ranks. Less than a dozen groundlings remain. Hopefully we’ve still got Olin, Yetic, and Neca along with a couple other capable fliers. Out of the 49 Serpents we started with, it’s not much. But it’s enough.
Movement dances in the corner of my eye, and I spot the backside of a Jag in retreat. The flyers must be producing the desired effect. It’s possible the groundling Jags, who had pinned us moments earlier, may not know how few of us remain. They should be confronting us in the open in effort to finish us off. Instead they’re melting away.
We reach the spot where the battle turned for the worse, and I hurdle the unconscious bodies of those who fell a half hour earlier. The scorch marks on the plasteel are clearly visible. There’s even distortion and stress fractures at ground zero—proof the Jags are somehow violating the contained EM limits of the combat chamber.
Questions gnaw at the back of my mind. The combat chamber is supposed to be a closed system. Not only have these attacks been the largest Jaguar has been able to muster to date, they’ve come too quickly and left precious little energy for us.
Before I have time to piece together answers, Cera sounds the alarm. “Three o’clock low!”
I curse myself for not staying in the moment. Closing my eyes, I force my instincts to self-correct. See the whole, not the part. When I open my eyes, I ignore my three and focus on my nine instead. “They’re trying to surround us! Just keep running!”
It’s a brilliant tactic, but too by-the-book. They’re expecting us to hunker down once we realize we’re surrounded, or to lose heart and surrender. What they don’t realize is they’ve thinned their ranks between us and sector B-6.
I scrape the bottom of my will, dragging up a bucket full of sludge and determination. If we move fast enough we’ll have the numerical advantage. Stepping into an imperceptible depression, my knee nearly buckles. I stumble for two more strides before a stabilizing arm rescues me from face planting into the rubber floor. It’s the transfer I tugged along earlier.
We exchange thankful nods.
“Don’t stop for any reason!” I feel the temperature rise a degree, but don’t have time to sound the alarm. The EM storm hits toward the rear of the ranks. The crackle licks my sweat-soaked back. Steam rises from Cera’s braid as she runs beside me.
“Keep running!” A wave of doubt ripples through me. If this were a real battle, I’d be getting us all killed.
I shake it off. Surely the storm had been aimed at me. They’re trying to stop our progress, but we’re moving too quickly, and we’ve nearly closed the distance. Overhead I spot the tale-tell blurs of aerial battle.
A brilliant shock of blue streaks toward the ground and strikes out of view. Olin and the others are giving the Jags all they can handle while flying close enough to ensure an EM storm would stun more Jaguars than Serpents.
Leading the groundlings, I reach the defensive barriers indicating the transition into sector B-6. As I prepare to barrel-roll over the chest-high wall directly in front of me, I glance from side to side. The new transfer is on my left, Cera on my right. I know what they’re thinking. “Punch ‘em once and keep running!”
I hit the top of the wall with my hands and chest and stomach all at once. Flopping my legs over, I clock a shocked Jaguar cadet in the temple with my knee before landing on him. Refusing to register my exhaustion, I push up with my hands and keep running.
Despite the fact I know we’re completely surrounded, I feel a slight tinge of relief. The next EM storm will be one of ours.
The ground slopes upward as we reach the middle of sector B-6. Amidst a jungle of ten meter-high blocks of plasteel, I hear the echoing bare feet of the few Serpents still with me. “When we reach the center, work your way out the other side as quickly as you can.” I gasp for breath. “And keep running.”
“Calli, you can’t,” Cera objects.
“We’re gonna burn down the whole sector,” I huff, “and everyone in it.”
“Xoxochueyi.” The new transfer swears under his breath.
I nod to myself. Suddenly we emerge into the center ring. I spot Ami hovering over a high platform. The battle surrounding her isn’t as fierce as I had imagined. After fighting for nearly 45 minutes, everyone’s exhausted.
Forming a quiet space inside my head, I hail Olin. We’re here. I need a lift to the platform.
Coming up. My little brother’s response is curt. He’s tired too.
I continue running of my own volition for a few seconds. Then my feet lift from the ground. With breath caught in my throat, I do my best to prepare for the showdown. If I’m to give Cera and the others time to clear the blast radius, I’ll need to get under Ami’s skin—something I haven’t had time to give any thought until now.
Thankfully, whoever’s in charge of my assent choses a steep trajectory, using the platform itself to mask my approach. Anyone above it won’t know I’m coming until I’ve joined them. In the blink of an eye, I arrive.
Hovering a meter above me, it takes the leader of our toughest competition a moment to spot my arrival. “Calli.” Ami spits out my name while launching a rushed EM pulse.
I barrow from Olin to cloak myself until the energy washes past. Masking my exhaustion and resisting the urge to take a defensive posture, I open my eyes and smile. I need my defense to appear as effortless as possible. “I see you’ve learned some new tricks.”
Ami sneers. “I see you’re still relying on your little brother for something as simple as levitation.”
I ignore her personal gibe and continue my effort to undermine her confidence. “It’s cute how you thought some bigger fireworks would be enough to win.”
Ami narrows her eyes. “You’ve got nothing but a few gnats overhead. When they get tired, we’ll swat them down.” I shrug. She says, “Without your brother, you’ll be defenseless.”
A few Jag flyers assume positions around the platform. Ami shares a smug look with each of them before returning her full attention to me. “We win. You lose. The only question is, how painful do you want your defeat to be?”
So far so good. She’s willing to play the role of a cat toying with its prize. A little longer, and Cera will have gotten the others out of range. “Humph,” I pout. “When you put it that way, I simply don’t know what to say. After all, we’ve both grown so comfortable with our roles—us Serpents winning, you Jags coming in a close second.”
Ami emits a low growl, her hatred boiling.
I only need a few seconds more. I hail Olin. Get ready. Make sure Yetic and the rest are clear, but try not to draw Ami’s attention.
You sure we should do this? Olin asks. I know what’s coming next. What if someone gets hurt? Or worse?
Ami floats down to the surface of the platform and drops to her feet.
I don’t have time to properly reassure Olin now. Nothing will go wrong. Just wait for my order.
Olin continues to buzz in my head. What if they see me before I reach you?
Ami advances to within arm’s reach. She’s wound up more than usual—angry and ready to spring. It takes all my control to not react defensively to her presence. Instead I smile and say, “It is nice to have family to rely on in situations like this.”
“Oh, your brother can’t help you now.” Ami holds up her hand. As she balls it into a fist, it bursts into hungry, red flames. Fluid and shimmering, the electromagnetic energy flares from between her clenched fingers as if her flesh were the surface of the sun. The heat from it licks my skin and I’m unable to hide my surprise.
Ami continues, “Earlier, I was willing to give you the choice. But it looks like you’ve already chosen a painful defeat. I can’t say I’m disappointed.” Her hand blurs in my direction.
There’s not even time to think, much less move. Out of nowhere, Ami funnels a tremendous amount of energy into my chest. In a burst of blinding pain, the combat chamber is erased. My tether to reality is cut as I tumble into the vast grip of unknowing.
At the brink of the event horizon between consciousness and unconsciousness I sense an awareness tumbling alongside me—Olin. A single word forms in my thoughts. Now.
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