Blazewrath Games Page 9

  I gasp. The mountain is to the right side of the stadium.

  On the Blazewrath field, there are two mountains, one for each Runner. We only have my mountain here. It’s made of hardened, sparkling sand. The mountain almost reaches the chamber’s skylight, with a curving, narrow pathway upward. The top is a flat, square patch of space, where an altar built from iron sits in the middle. My final destination. A Runner’s job is to get an item called the Iron Scale to the top of their mountain before their opponent. Once the Iron Scale has been dropped off, the match ends, and that Runner’s team wins.

  “Mira eso. Se ve bien, ¿verdad?” Edwin comes up from behind me, asking if this place looks good. More and more footsteps loudly approach.

  I’ve seen their uniforms before. And yet the second I turn, my breath abandons me. The suit’s made out of thick black spandex, but the shoulders and chest areas are padded with metal that’s been dyed to match the fabric. Right across the metal chest, engraved in white letters, are the words PUERTO RICO. The words shimmer a little. The players’ last names and chosen numbers are engraved on their backs. Dark metal cuffs are fitted to the players’ forearms. Four spikes protrude out of them. My teammates also sport the same helm as me, along with strapless, knee-high boots. I trust they’re easy to handle thanks to a spell.

  I’ve been expecting six athletes.

  Instead, here are six warriors ready for the biggest battle of their lives.

  “You all look incredible,” I say.

  Luis pats himself down. “I was much worse off the first time I came in here.”

  “He cried,” says Gabriela. “A lot.”

  “So did you!”

  “Yeah, but your sniffling was louder than hers.” Héctor delivers the final blow.

  Luis throws his arms up. “It was an emotional moment! What more do you want from me, man? First, you steal my grapes, and now you’re calling me a sniffling crier?”

  “No, señor. You just called yourself a sniffling crier.”

  “Positions, everyone,” says a grinning Joaquín.

  Victoria, Gabriela, Héctor, and Luis head for the main field. Edwin and Génesis run over to the mountain. I spot the Runner’s mark at the base and jog my way there.

  Blazewrath isn’t a game where one can rack up points. It’s more of a who-gets-there-first deal. It could take a Striker one minute to several hours to score. The longest match on record remains the 2015 quarterfinals showdown between Scotland and Spain. It had lasted five hours because neither Striker could get the Rock Flame through the goalpost. The Runner is stuck at the bottom of the mountain until that score is made, which especially sucks when the rival team scores first. Their Runner could be at the top by the time it’s your turn to start running.

  WHOOSH!

  A gust of wind almost knocks me down. I flinch and shield myself, but the wind is gone.

  The dragons have materialized inside Training Room E.

  Actually, materializing might not be the right word. The dragons are outlines of themselves. Starker versions of the images you’d find in a coloring book. Swirls of dark smoke drift around each dragon as they fill up their scales with their natural blackness. Now they’re flesh and bone. They stand in a semicircle formation on the main field.

  “Whoa. They can use their magic to appear out of thin air?”

  Joaquín nods. “They can Fade from one place to another.”

  Fade. That’s a much better word for it. “How come the public doesn’t know about it?”

  “It wasn’t until three weeks ago that they manifested this ability during practice. President Turner and the IBF don’t know about it yet. I wanted to observe them more first.” He taps his notebook with his pen. “A shame they can’t Fade with their riders yet. We’ve tried several times, but so far, the dragons have only been capable of using this magic alone. Best to be patient.”

  I raise my eyebrows. Three weeks ago? That’s right around the same time the Sire came out of hiding. Horrible things and wonderful things happened simultaneously. That’s how the world works, but these specific things all involved dragons.

  Relax. Maybe it’s just a weird coincidence.

  “¿Qué pasó?” comes Manny’s voice from my left.

  “Nothing. We were just going over the rules.” Joaquín angles his wheelchair toward the edge of the pathway. His expression is as calm as if he’s been discussing the weather. “Lana, you’ll be waiting for Victoria to score behind that white line. Runners and Blockers must fight one another using a variety of martial arts, but most Blockers aren’t as fast as Runners. From what I saw in your tryout application, you don’t have any formal combat training, do you?”

  “No, but I’ve practiced with videos on the Internet.” Mom would’ve known something was weird if I’d signed up for classes. “I’ll try to be so fast, they won’t have time to fight me.”

  “There you go. Your main strategy will indeed be to outrun your opponents. They can’t stop you if they can’t catch you.” Joaquín offers me an encouraging smile. “We’re going to start as all matches start. Victoria will take the Rock Flame to the goalpost. Luis and Gabriela will escort her to the goal and defend her from aerial threats. Héctor will guard the goal. You, Edwin, and Génesis stay put until Victoria scores. For this first run, you won’t be taking the Iron Scale with you. The dragons won’t be throwing fireballs at you, either. We have to see how you do in hand-to-hand combat. The Blockers will pursue you once you reach the Block Zones.”

  I nod and mumble a quick “Got it.”

  Show them you belong here.

  Fantasma and Rayo hover near the mountain, getting ready to attack me.

  Joaquín uses a megaphone to communicate with Victoria, Gabriela, Luis, and Héctor. They nod to his instructions in Spanish. They mount their steeds at the same time. The dragons unfurl their wings together, soaring into the air in a straight line. Titán and Héctor dive toward the goalpost. Each rider steers by leaning and backing away from their dragons. Victoria’s the only one who hangs on to Esperanza with one hand. She’s holding the Rock Flame in the other.

  Joaquín blows his whistle. The first part of the match starts now.

  Victoria and Esperanza zoom across the field. Luis and Daga fly to their left, Gabriela and Puya to their right. Soon enough, Esperanza is sandwiched between her Charger teammates.

  Joaquín pulls out a silver stick thing from his windbreaker’s pocket; a blinking red button is perched at the very end. “Activating blasters.” He presses it once.

  The ground shakes. Three holes appear on each side of the field, like circles leading to the depths of hell. Instead of bats or demons, though, all that come out are long metal cylinders. The blasters aim to where the Striker and Charger dragons fly above.

  Joaquín presses the red button again.

  Fireballs shoot out of the blasters on the left. All three fireballs are flying straight toward Esperanza, but Daga and Puya crisscross between each other. They’re batting the flames with their tails. The dragons are equally fluid and fast, weaving a thread out of shadows and rage.

  With another press of the red button, Joaquín unleashes constant streams of fire from the blasters on the right. Victoria speeds up toward Héctor, but Luis and Gabriela whoop and holler as their steeds take turns opening fire at the oncoming flames. Daga and Puya push back the enemy fire, sending it back to the blasters that shot them out. Gabriela kisses Puya’s neck, then leads him to the goalpost alongside Luis and Daga.

  I let out a gasp. Victoria is standing on top of Esperanza’s head. Poised and careful, she throws her arm back. Esperanza slams mercilessly into Titán. She’s a freight train without brakes. Once the dragons clash, Victoria leaps into the air, swinging her arm forward.

  Héctor also leaps up. He raises his arms to grab the Rock Flame.

  But Victoria doesn’t throw it. The moment Héctor jumps, she sinks back down. Victoria rolls under Héctor’s feet, all over Titán’s back, stopping just shy of his tail.
She then tosses the Rock Flame at the goalpost with a primal scream.

  The Rock Flame flies right through the goal.

  “Yes!” I’m clapping like it’s a real match.

  Joaquín blows the first whistle for me. The second part of the match has begun.

  My hands touch the sand, one knee bent. I’ve done this a million times. I won’t even need to show these people how terrible I am at fighting because they won’t catch me.

  Joaquín blows the second whistle.

  I fly across the sand.

  Fantasma and Rayo dive for the mountain, but I’m focused on the pathway. It stays level for a few paces, then rises into a coil that fully wraps around the mountain. There are three Block Zones ahead—the only places where Blockers can dismount their steeds and engage me in combat. Their goal is to steal the Iron Scale attached to the Runner’s belt, then toss it back to the foot of the mountain. Runners will have to go back and fetch it, losing valuable time. Block Zones are also where the Blockers’ steeds are forced to stop blasting fire at me. Red lines mark their beginnings and ends on either side. The first Block Zone is the longest one, spanning forty feet, which is enough for any Blocker to drop in and deliver a beating for the ages. I blow past the red line, entering the first Block Zone with energy to boot.

  Wings flap somewhere around me. Either Fantasma or Rayo approaches from the right.

  All my strength is devoted to crossing that other red line. I’m halfway there, then closer and closer until it’s only a matter of a couple of steps.

  Edwin jumps right in front of me. He grabs my arm and yanks me back. My butt finds the ground first. Since there’s no Iron Scale to steal from me, Edwin places both legs at my sides, trapping me where I sit. He stares at me like this is easier than he expected.

  No. You’re not going to beat me.

  I slide under him, then push myself up to a standing position.

  Edwin grabs me again, this time by my waist. He pulls me down before I know what’s going on. When I stand, he kicks my legs from under me, sending me to the ground quicker. I aim a kick at his shins, but he evades it like a pro. Once I’m up again, I throw punch after punch at him, which he sidesteps effortlessly. He’s not fighting me back. Every time I try to swerve and flee, he’s there to drop me like a ragdoll. I lose count of how many falls I’ve racked up. Edwin sneaks in one last knockdown. I choke out a yell as I hit the sand, weak and sweaty and done.

  I’m supposed to be faster than him. I’m supposed to not have time to fight him.

  Edwin offers to lift me up, and I let him, regardless of how ashamed I am. He and I both search for Joaquín at the bottom of the mountain, where he’s clicking a megaphone on.

  “Okay,” says a hopeful Joaquín. “Let’s try it again.”

  I never make it past the first Block Zone.

  Fourteen different attempts. All failed. Edwin is an unmovable force. I know I’m not good at fighting, but this is ridiculous. And I don’t even know what awaits me with Génesis.

  Manny’s not even here anymore. He left at some point during my multiple defeats.

  I sit on the sand next to Joaquín, deflating with every gulp of bottled spring water.

  Joaquín waits for me to finish before speaking. “Génesis and Edwin will take you to their training room now. Outrunning the Blockers isn’t enough. There’ll be no more practice on the mountain for you until you can at least master the basics of repelling an attacker.”

  Oh, for the love of God. “I don’t get to watch the rest of practice?”

  “Not today, Lana. Go train with the Blockers.”

  Genesis, Edwin, and I leave Training Room E, but I’m the only one with my head down. I’m supposed to use my real uniform for practice soon. I’m supposed to run from real fire and carry a spot-on replica of the Iron Scale to the top of the mountain. This first day is baby food compared to what lies ahead. And yet here I am, sucking way worse than expected.

  If I keep this up, I won’t have to worry about the Sire threatening the Cup again.

  I’ll get kicked off the team before I even see the Blazewrath stadium.

  The Bond always begins the same way. Soon after a dragon is born, they invite a human to ride with them through psychic communication. Once the invitation is accepted, dragon and rider are entwined for life. But why do some dragons connect with humans while others refuse to? This is where the theory of a destined rider-dragon Bond falls apart. It would suggest that the universe has designed certain dragons to hate humans. Or perhaps this is the perfect cosmic balance. Some dragons try to kill us; others have been sent to keep us alive. The universe, it seems, is playing a game of chess. We just need to figure out how long we have left until checkmate.

  —Excerpt from Carlos Torres’s Studying the Bond Between Dragons & Humans

  CHAPTER NINE

  FIGHTING ISN’T HALF AS FUN AS IT LOOKS ON TV.

  I have to accept someone else into my space. I have to study them and predict how they’re going to move. I have to already know how to defeat them before they even try.

  Edwin and Génesis have zero issues with this. For most of the session in Training Room C, they have me doing slower, no-contact versions of their moves on the field. They show me how to properly place my feet and shoulders to deliver a punch. Then they have me using my elbows to strike even more invisible opponents behind me. I turn and hit, dizzying myself until I learn how to keep my eyes focused on a spot on the wall. Both Génesis and Edwin are hell-bent on having me build up speed and strength.

  “Very good. Now let’s try something different.” Génesis gets in front of me. “Move.”

  Her fist shoots out toward me.

  I squat way too fast, lose my balance again, and land on my butt.

  “Try doing it like this.” Génesis leans to the left and lowers her head.

  I get back up. “Okay.”

  She sends another fist my way.

  I squat even lower this time.

  “You might injure yourself if you keep that up,” says Génesis. “Let’s go again.”

  An hour later, I can gracefully lean away from a punch. I can throw one in return, too, relying on my core strength and feet placement to get the job done. Edwin also takes his time showing me how to tilt my whole body to drive two quick jabs. Once the session is over, I drop to the mat, dripping as much sweat as the body is capable of producing.

  “Tomorrow we practice grappling and tossing. Edwin will lead the session.” Génesis puts a bottle of water and a clean, lavender-scented towel next to me. “No eres una causa perdida.” She tells me I’m not a lost cause, which I’m choosing to take as a compliment.

  I gulp down the whole bottle at once. “Did you two train in karate alone?”

  Génesis points at herself. “Karate and kickboxing.”

  Edwin simply says, “Judo.”

  “Nice. So is Joaquín coming to tomorrow’s session?”

  “Most likely,” says Génesis. “He probably stayed with the others today because he’s been trying to get Daga to master one of the dive-and-turn techniques. She’s a bit slower than Puya.”

  “What about Manny? Will he be here, too, or is he going to hide in his room all day?” I don’t intend to sound bitter, but I can’t help it. It’s not so much like he’s keeping a respectful distance from us so we can train in peace. It’s more like he’s doing his best to avoid us.

  “He’ll probably stay in his room,” Génesis says.

  What a wonderful guy. “Has he always been this distant?”

  Génesis and Edwin share a look. While Génesis’s expression suddenly shifts into a frown, Edwin seems even more serious than Victoria.

  “Pues realmente no,” he tells me. “Todo comenzó cuando Brian se fue.”

  This all started when Brian left?

  “Why did he get fired?” I dare to ask.

  “Because he punched me.” Edwin speaks the words in English as if he’s practiced them for people other than his teammates. “Sworn M
agazine?”

  My hairs stand on end. That waste of human skin hit Edwin after he came out publicly? I’m glad I never met him, then. I’m even happier I’m taking his spot.

  Well, technically, I’m sucking at taking his spot, but it’s still mine.

  “Sí,” I say. “Excelente entrevista. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Gracias.” Edwin smiles. “Cuando trató de darme otra vez, lo dejé inconsciente.” Edwin had knocked him the hell out when Brian tried to hit him again.

  “Good. He deserved it,” I say. “Manny was the one to fire him, wasn’t he?”

  “He called the IBF immediately,” says Génesis. “Manny was so kind to Edwin and Gabriela, and he’d been such a warm soul to the rest of us, too. But then he left for London to meet with the IBF after Brian’s firing. When he came back to San Juan, he wasn’t the same man who treated us like his kids. He barely spoke, and he just … checked out.”

  That sounds more like the man I know.

  After I thank Edwin for sharing his story with me, I clap softly. “So. Is it shower time?”

  “Yes, please. You desperately need it,” Génesis says.

  I pretend to hit her with the towel, which makes Edwin crack up. Then I toss my water bottle at the nearest trash can, but it lands two feet away.

  Now Edwin and Génesis are both laughing at me. Awesome.

  “I promise I’ll fight better than I throw,” I say. “A lot better.”

  “I’m choosing to believe you,” says Génesis. “Come on, Lana. Let’s get cleaned up.”

  On the way to my room, Edwin and Génesis discuss everything from tomorrow’s training session to their Doritos cravings. I’m still stuck on the man who went cold. There has to be a way to figure out the cipher that is Manuel Delgado. What happened in London? Manny hadn’t been a fan of Brian, so something else must’ve rattled him.