16. Carter

SIXTEEN

CARTER

B utterflies the size of Vakutan Cruisers flew around and smashed into each other inside my belly. My legs felt trembly and weak. It took everything I had not to turn tail and flee right then and there.

What am I doing? This isn't my fight. I've only been in this village for a little over a year. I should run. I should return to the ruins and try to find a way home.

But if I do that, then what happens to Arael?

Masari warriors fell in beside me. Boisterous, loud, and enthusiastic, they made no bones about their predictions for the battle. I would win, period, end of story. They had zero doubt in their minds.

I wished I shared their confidence. The facts remained the facts, however. I was not a trained warrior. The little bit of weapons practice I'd had with Pageus didn't come close to the decades of experience Jark brought to the table.

I'd never been in a fight since my primary school days. Even when the Alliance raided the Blue Dawn facility, I had not put up any sort of struggle. I was a man of thought, not a man of action.

And yet, there I was, about to face an opponent I could not hope to defeat, all in the name of people I didn't even know a year prior.

Run, Carter. Run! Don't listen to their chants, don't look at their hopeful faces, so sure that I'm going to win. Run! You're not a warrior, and you're certainly not a chief. You're a scientist, you should act like one.

I stepped onto the crest of the hill, and stared out at the enemy encampment. The floating island they'd chosen had nearly drawn abreast of Starlost village. The glowing lights of their silver tubes twinkled like a field of sinister stars.

I began this whole journey looking out on the stars. Now it seems I have come full circle.

The enemy encampment chanted, slamming the hafts of their spears on the ground for emphasis and syncopation. A figure emerged among the rest, standing much taller than the others.

Ignio handed me the Masari equivalent of a spyglass. I put the orb up to my eye and felt the familiar tingle as I fed it Masari life energy.

There was no focusing the orb. One moment, I couldn't see anything at all, and the next the chief of the enemy tribe appeared in stark, detailed relief.

"He's…short."

Indeed, most of Jark's height came from the ornate, carved mask he wore. His armor had a look to it of being designed to make him look larger, as well.

Still, even though he wasn't all that tall, Jark's stockiness was evident. I had no doubt he would possess supreme athleticism despite his short stature.

"He is no match for you," Lo said, slapping me on the arm. "This will be over swiftly."

I had to wonder if he was right, but for the wrong reasons. I gripped my spear and spoke out of the corner of my mouth.

"Pageus, what is expected of me? Where will this duel take place?"

"As the challenger, it is up to Jark to make the first move. When he takes to the sky, you must wait until he is within a spear's throw to engage him."

"What happens if I go early?"

Pageus' eyes went wide.

"It is simply not done."

"Yes, but what if it was?"

"I do not know, but I do know that Jark's men would ill respect the Chieftain who broke the rules."

I had been afraid he would say something like that. The Masari sense of honor seldom helped anything. All it ever seemed to do was hinder my efforts.

"Be ready, I think Jark is about to take to the skies."

I gripped the spear haft so tightly my knuckles changed hue. How strange I found it, looking at a hand covered in scales and thinking of it as my own.

If I saw peach hued flesh instead of scales, would I find it strange, now? Am I a human dreaming he is Masari, or a Masari who once dreamed he was a man?

"Gro! Gro, go now!"

Pageus' voice broke me out of my reverie. I looked up to see Jark's black winged form in the air, marring the red-sun sky.

I focused my energy and soared into the air. My hand no longer shook. My stomach didn't roil with fear. The time had come for action at last, and I had no time to work myself up.

Jark and I both slowed, as if by mutual consent, when we neared each other. We hovered some ten feet apart, slowly circling in the sunset sky.

"You are not Zey."

His voice caught me off guard. It sounded worn, haggard to my ears. And much older than I had expected.

"I am the new Peace Chief, Gro. My sincerest apologies."

His face screwed up in confusion.

"Your apologies for what?"

"For the fact you no longer face an infirm, old man but a warrior in his prime."

His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"You will fall, regardless. All fall before the might of Grhoma Jark."

He came forward, but not in a rush. Jark inched forward, spear leading the way. The metal of his weapon gleamed with a familiar green glint. I realized now that it had been forged of the same metal as the Precursor ship upon which Starlost village had been founded.

Jark gave a couple of probing, exploratory thrusts. I batted them aside with ease, unable to believe he relied upon such basic, simple attacks.

My opponent withdrew, then came in with his legs thrust behind him, presenting a smaller target to my counter attacks. Again, I easily parried his blows. He hadn't put much emphasis behind them.

Confidence grew within me, blossoming into arrogance.

He is an old man! And a weak old man, at that. He hardly seems the boogeyman I was told to expect.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, the warnings that Pageus issued still clattered around. I knew I should be more cautious, but I launched into an attack combination of my own. Jark managed to parry my strikes, but only barely. A grunt of exertion escaped his lips with every block.

I'm wearing him down! This is too easy!

Convinced now that Jark was no match for the power and speed of Gro's magnificent body, I pressed the attack. My blows grew faster, harder, and more reckless. Every time I felt as if I werre on the verge of piercing his hide with my spear, however, I struck only a wooden haft, or a ringing steel head.

I chopped down with a two-handed strike. Jark caught the blow on his spear haft. I pressed down, banking on my superior strength.

I forgot one thing, however. We were not standing on the ground, but flying in the sky. Leverage and strength didn't have the same meanings as they would have on terra firma.

Jark abruptly dropped downward, tilting his body backward with a shocking display of flexibility. I darted forward suddenly, since his spear no longer blocked my path. Jark could not reverse his grip in time to impale me, but the butt of his spear struck hard and deep beneath my ribcage.

The air exploded out of my lungs. I struggled to take in air as one hand clasped my agonized side.

Jark pressed his sudden advantage. With only one hand, I could only partially block his attacks. Fire burned along my arms and shoulders as Jark's spear slashed me again and again. None of the blows were serious or deep. Not yet.

But I realized my mistake, perhaps too late.

He's not feeble at all! He's incredibly fast and strong, and he knows how to fight!

I managed to get my left arm working again, and parried his blows with two hands on the haft. Jark retreated a short distance, a fierce, toothy grin crossing his face.

"You striplings always believe that you're invincible. Now, I can simply wait for you to bleed out."

I didn't think I would bleed out from the shallow gashes, but I did feel a bit weaker for them. I lunged for him, trying to impale him on my spear, but he skimmed out of the way like a waterbug on a pond.

Jark slashed with his spear, the haft whistling through the air. I cried out as it scored a jagged gash along my upper thigh.

"Zey was a fool to send you in his stead. I've seen infants who can fly better than you do."

I let out a low, angry growl and attempted a more cautious approach. I thrust with my spear high, then low, then high again, a combo Pageus had shown me.

Jark parried the first two blows, and on the third he knocked my spear out wide, leaving my body exposed. I yelped and jerked myself to the side. His blade scored a long, bloody line along my tricep, joining a multitude of cuts and slashes.

Now Jark pressed his advantage, slashing and thrusting and keeping up the pressure on me. I gave ground, unsure of which way was up or down. Something smacked into my back, and I realized he'd pushed me all the way back to the edge of one of the flying rocks.

"It's over for you now, stripling. When you arrive in the underworld, be sure to tell them that Grhoma Jark sent you--"

Something flashed across his face, a red light beaming into his eyes. Jark cried out, shutting his eyes from the visual assault.

I reacted on instinct as much as conscious thought. I hurled my spear, letting it fly as a deadly missile. The steel tip caught Jark in the groin, coming out at an angle behind his right thigh.

Jark clamped his teeth together and issued a hissing susurrus from his blood flecked lips. He grasped the shaft, attempting to pull the spear back out of his body. He rose into the air higher as he poured his life energy into his sky breaker harness. The dying sun reflected through the drops of blood, turning them into glittering jewels.

"You…you've…"

He sputtered, eyes wide and accusing.

"You cheat," he gasped.

Jark yanked the spear free at last, letting out a raucous howl of agony as it came loose. The spear fell from his nerveless fingers, tumbling end over end toward the distant ground below. Jark himself rose higher, shooting up as if he sought to rival the daystar itself.

His ascent slowed, until he hovered for the briefest of moments. Then he plummeted like a meteor, falling toward the verdant green below.

I watched him as he fell, then remembered my injuries. I needed to stop the bleeding before I did the same move as Jark.

I flew up to the surface of Starlost village. My people came together, swarming me with cheering affection. One of them touched my chest, then recoiled in horror as their hand came back warm and sticky with my blood.

"The chief is injured! Bring a physicker, quickly!"

"I'm really all right," I said, trying to allay their fears. "Pageus, we must keep watch on Jark's forces, to make sure they will not attack…"

No one seemed to hear me. I accepted the medical attention, sitting down on the edge of the town well to receive treatment. Above the chaos of dancing, jubilant Masari, I spotted an island of calm.

Arael. She stood at the top of the hill, a smile tugging the sides of her mouth. I smiled back at her, and then she pointed a tiny cylinder at me. A red light flashed on my chest.

My mouth fell open. I looked up at Arael. She winked at me.

She saved my life. I owe her literally everything.

Just as I relaxed, Pageus bellowed above the tumult.

"Jark's warriors! They come!"