Tristan's Tale Pt. 06

This time, he didn't even say anything. He just sighed, and gestured for his cadre to follow him. They turned their backs on me, and left.

I hated looking stupid in front of people that didn't like me. It was like handing them the ammunition they needed to confirm their bias as true. And the last thing I needed was for Tower to think I was weak.

Or maybe it would be a good thing. They'd underestimate me.

Who knew. I was spinning to look at the goddamn thing that had nearly scared me half to death.

But, predictably, the room was empty. It wasn't like there was any place to go. Training rooms are bare to the point of being spartan. It's just a mat on the ground. No places to hide, and yet there was very obviously nothing in the room. Classic Caer'Aton. The sky would probably fall in this universe if things made sense.

I briefly wondered if maybe I'd imagined the whole thing, but I couldn't really let that thought hold water. When you know you're being mind controlled day-in and day-out, there isn't really any room for doubt. You can't wonder if something is true or not, because that kind of question gets you wondering if the walls are real, if the ground is real. . .

If you yourself are real.

Yeah, no thanks.

I went back to the stands to watch the rest of the Tournament, my stomach uneasy.

~

I walked through the stands to sit near Erë, because I wanted to ask him something.

"That moment earlier," I said, sitting on a cushion next to him, "You sounded like you'd understood something right before we fought. You said "I see"."

Erë shifted uncomfortably. "It's nothing."

I hadn't been expecting that. "What do you mean, nothing? Come on. Don't be like that."

He sighed. For once, it actually sounded sort of like it was supposed to. "I realized why you can read my expressions so easily, why you can hear me so well. I'd been puzzling it over since we first spoke." He measured me with a slowly whirling gaze. "You are Guojen."

I looked at him flatly. "That sounds like a kind of tea," I said.

He turned away from me. "Okay," he replied.

It was my turn to sigh. "What I mean is, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm not from this place. What's Guojen?"

"Guojen? It is. . . you are it." He gestured toward my feet. "I saw it when you touched the ground. You've spoken to Guo. The. . .big stones?" he asked, faltering a little.

"Stonekin!" I exclaimed. "The Stone Giants in the grove!" To be honest, I'd mostly forgotten about that whole experience. There was simply too much going on in Caer'Aton for me to hold on to any one thing.

I wiggled my toes on the ground, though, and just having the connection there was like a bit of bedrock in my soul, a piece of joy inside me. "You're saying that's making it easier for me to interact with you?"

"I don't know," he said. "But if you learn Jassanese, Aarturian is much easier. Perhaps it is like this. Usually people don't know how to listen to wind. Maybe you've got to be a certain kind of thickheaded."

"Are you calling them stupid?" I asked, bristling slightly. The Stone Giants were like my brothers.

Well, no. Not quite. Not anymore. For a moment when I'd shared their underground awareness, I had seen how we were all things of the earth. How these stony creatures were my family, after a fashion.

All that had faded, but I still felt affection for them, and didn't like the sound of some uppity wind Jhinn talking down on them.

"Not stupid, no," replied Erë. "If you gave them a complex problem, they'd solve it. It might take them a few millennia or so, but they'd solve it."

I didn't know the history between these people. It wouldn't make sense for me to react to a conflict that I didn't understand, if it even was that. But they were my friends, damnit. "Sounds like you don't like them very much," I said, trying not to sound angry.

"When a storm comes," said Erë, "The rocks get flung for miles."

I was going to defend them against that statement—also, what the hell kind of storms was he talking about?—but he interrupted me.

"I'm not trying to disparage your friends. Their priorities are vastly different. But if I speak from my eye, then I must admit the truth is that I'm hurt by their presence here."

What? "Hurt?" I asked. "Do you visit them?"

"No. The commander doesn't allow outings. But even if it were permitted I would not go. Our lives are different streams. They have been given the gift of a small eternity. Their captivity will be, to them, a pebble among boulders."

I understood him. "But yours has taken away a lot more of your life. A larger percentage."

He roiled angrily within his clothes, and I swear I caught the sound of distant thunder. "You cannot understand."

I looked at him. I was a newcomer here, so I didn't have that perspective. Truth be told, I didn't know what it would be like to be a captive here for years and years. But as that possibility began to dawn on me—that the few weeks I'd been here could stretch on until I was old and gray—I began to see his pain.

"Maybe I can't understand," I said softly, "but I'm more than willing to listen anyway."

A gust passed across the clothes that sent a ripple across them like a wave in water. Except the wind was coming from beneath the surface. "I. . .thank you." He was silent a moment. "The match is starting," he said, and it was almost a whisper. "Let's watch."

"Sure," I said. I didn't want to push the issue.

The shaping continued. It was just like round one, except for the addition of a second table.

On the whole, it wasn't terribly exciting for me. Other people seemed to get pretty invested in the outcomes, though. Especially when someone from Tower was on the stage. They had the whole Clan shouting at them.

Me, I hated that kind of pressure, even if it was supposed to be encouraging. Erë barely understood it.

"Even before I was taken, I'd heard stories of the Haerthkin. Droll that rolled rocks up mountains at the break of day only to let them plummet come when the first star appears in the sky. Ifrits that refuse to eat unless their food has been spiced with some strange red mineral.

"But I hardly believed the stories about Humans. The chanting around fires, the division into tribes. What's the point of unity among Kin if it doesn't extend to all of them?"

"You telling me none of the Jhinn fight each other?" I asked.

"Of course not. How else would a Kin be prepared for fights with other Kin? But we don't form. . .factions among ourselves."

"You think this is crazy," I said, gesturing to the group of Tower. "You should see the elections back home." Holding her Tower pin high, the winner grinned widely as the guy who lost slunk away. He looked vaguely familiar; I think I'd fought him in my climb up. A first-mat fighter. The Tower group in the stands was celebrating so enthusiastically it was hard to imagine they weren't drunk. They were pushing each other, shouting so loud I thought their vocal chords were definitely getting messed up.

And then I had a thought. Could you simulate being drunk with the Art? Why not? Why would, of all things, that be the line?

I looked closer at the clump of Tower cheering, and my suspicions were confirmed. I don't know what he was doing, but Colin was standing on the fringe of Derrik's group. He wasn't a part of the celebrating. In fact, he looked rather concentrated.

And then I had another thought.

Who was really at the head of Tower? The guy around whom everyone was cheering, or the guy making them cheer in the first place?

I filed that one away, and Erë nudged me. "That's-what?"

I'd flinched away abruptly. "Sorry. I just. . .that was weird." I rubbed the place where he'd touched me. My skin still felt cold. "Wasn't expecting that."

The smoke on Erë's face coalesced into smile. "Your mud-partner is going next."

I looked. Jade was walking to the stage. "She's not. . .ah, never mind."

Her stride had purpose. I noticed it almost immediately.

It stood out because Jade's walk had been one of the things that had marked her from the crowd. Words fail me, but the best way I can describe her movement is as an imperial drift. Jade did not hurry. She moved to places as if blown by a wind that the world had offered her as a courtesy. And she held herself regally as she did it.

Damn. I don't know, I must sound like an idiot. In all honesty, maybe I just liked the sway of her hips and the way she parted a crowd around her. I've got a theory that says old romantic poetry was made by guys who caught sight of a nice rack and couldn't just flat out say, "My mistresses eyes are like the sun and I want to squeeze her breasts".

But she was hitting those stairs with purpose. She met her opponent on the stage, some guy with a Tower pin who may as well just have been Douchebag#647 and almost as soon as the bell rang and the match started, it was over.

The tables flooded bright campfire orange in the space of a heartbeat. The bell rang out, ending the match before the sound of the first one had finished ringing.

The Arena was silent for a beat. And then it erupted into applause. I noticed a few of the Droll clapping, and it may have been the first time they'd done anything but stare mutely at the stage.

The Tower group was silent. Jade tossed a brief look at them over her shoulder, and then she was walking off the stage.

"Jesus. . ." I muttered. It reminded me of the cold efficiency with which I'd dispatched people on my climb of the ranks.

Erë was laughing. It sounded like a gust of wind had a bad case of the hiccups. "I can't believe she chose you for a mud-buddy." He paused for his laughter. "Weynd at the end of all things," he wheezed, "she's cut from a different cloth. You must be very magnetic to secure her for your partner."

I did some mental translating, and wondered if the Jhinn had a word for attraction. It stood to reason, since they had a word for love. "I may surprise you yet," I said, "but to be honest, I didn't secure her. I don't think anybody could. She came to me." I stood up. "And I think now it's time I go to her."

"If she kills you, it was nice to meet you, Tristan."

I smiled. "Likewise." And then I left to go see why my girlfriend had just provoked the most powerful Clan of Moleh. Maybe she was taking after me.

~

"I can't stand the noise they make," exclaimed Jade. She glared at the Tower group lower in the stands, cluttered together, discussing the nuances of sheep-fucking. Emmit was gone, and Sailor and Alice were probably in a different part of the stands, doing things. "It's like listening to a bunch of high school students at a football game. They get so vocal about victories that they were obviously going to get. Peter didn't have a chance. . Their celebration is so masturbatory, it disgusts me."

"I bet you don't like when people talk in movie theaters either," I said.

She glared at me. "Where have you been? I looked for you at the break. Aren't you supposed to be here to, I don't know," she waved a hand inarticulately, "encourage me? Support me?"

I blinked. "Since when do you need that? I kind of assumed you had it all in the bag until at least the quarter-finals."

"Very flattering," she said. "But I'm feeling the pressure. Your pressure, mind you."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry."

She sighed, and flattened down her pants. "Just don't get yourself killed, alright? I know you're curious about the other peoples, but this Tournament doesn't feel the same. Not after André." She glanced at me. "We should be freaking out, you know."

"I know."

"I wasn't just trying to make Tower shut up. I wanted us to come out strong. We can't just go for the win, Tristan. I don't like it, and I don't like the pressure it puts on us, but we have to dominate. We need everyone to think we're strong." She gestured at the stands. "Not just them." Her eyes flicked up. "Her too."

I followed her gaze. Shae had a hand on the back of someone's head, pushing them between her legs. She looked bored, resting her head on her other hand.

"This is so fucking surreal," I muttered.

"I know," she said. She took my hand. "But it's real. I know she's in our heads. She's taking the edge off the death, we both know that." She fixed me with her eyes; they were deep green and serious. "But someone died this morning. Before that, she killed who knows how many Ifrits. I care about you, Tristan, and this place doesn't feel as safe as it used to be."

"If it was ever safe."

The sky abruptly changed, darkening rapidly. The sun set at breakneck pace. A sliver of moon rose, as if chasing it. Soon it was dark enough for stars, and the Arena was basking in the light of a cloudless night.

You get used to it—we barely even blinked.

"You heard her yourself," she said. "It's more serious now. We've got to be careful."

"Is that what careful looks like?" I asked. "I'd hate to see you being reckless."

"I'm taking a page from your book. I didn't doubt you before, but today is more proof than ever that strength is what Shae rewards. How easy would it be for her to have stopped whatever killed André? She obviously let him die as a message."

"I think you're right," I said, "but I'd also like to point out that we know next to nothing about this world. Shae may be all-powerful compared to us, but who knows what else is out there? Dante has a goddamn dragon and he says it isn't even a dragon. I'm pretty sure Jet told me there used to be angels."

"Yes, I'm sure an angel is responsible for his death," she said sarcastically. "The agents of God are primarily concerned with passing judgment on those who have continued to wax their mustaches past the twentieth century, oh my God, I'm making fun of it. Oh my God." She put her hands over her mouth and looked at me wide eyed.

I put a hand on her leg to comfort her. "She's good. Really good." I flicked my eyes up to our leader. A woman made of seamlessly stitched butterflies that could burst apart at a moment's notice. The last of her kind, she said. But what kind?

I felt like she was looking at us, but she was too far away for me to be sure. I pulled Jade close to me. "It's okay. She's in our heads. We have to be okay with that."

Jade was taking deep breaths and I felt her chest expanding against mine. She turned her head into the crook of my shoulder and let out a long sigh. The closeness of her was like a dream. I felt like the luckiest fool in the universe to have this person in my arms. To have her want to be there.

"I think I did a fair imitation of your arrogance," she said. I laughed suddenly, and she met my open mouth with a fierce kiss. "Don't let it go to your head."

"I'll try not to."

We stayed entwined together and I was happy just to feel her arms around me, the side of her leg against mine, the brush of her hair where it touched my neck. I felt suddenly incredibly protective.

But, looking at Jade, I wasn't sure why. By all accounts, she was miles more powerful than me. She had Set. She'd won the Tournament. I had a few flashy shows of power under my belt and some weird favoritism going on from Shae, but nothing concrete. Nothing I could point at and say, that's why I'm safe. Why I won't be the next André. Jade was in a much better position than I was.

I didn't want to lose what I had with her. And if push came to shove, I wasn't sure if I could stop this world from keeping us apart. In fact, I was positive I was next to helpless. If Shae wanted me to do something, I would do it without knowing it was coming from her. If I got Set, any Tower asshole could break us up through any kind of manipulation.

"Do you think we can really do it?" I asked. "Together?"

She gave me a flat look that pretty much said it all. "Tristan, I don't even know why you're asking me that question." She pulled me in for a forceful kiss, and when she broke it, there were the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "I do. I really do. I don't know what this is between us, but I have more faith in it than anything else." She gestured to where our hands had become interwoven. I didn't remember it happening. "This is the stuff of stories, Tristan. I'm not letting go of it. I'm not letting go of you."

A pang of something went through my stomach, and my own eyes brimmed with tears. "I'm scared," I said.

"I know."

"I'm scared they're going to separate us. I'm scared one of us is going to die. I'm scared that this has all been an illusion."

She smiled, and it was a sad smile. Tears streamed openly down her cheeks. I huddled into her, pressing my face into her collarbone. Her hand came to my back. "Better to believe the boy at your chest is real. That's what I tell myself."

I wanted it to be real. I wanted to know that the two of us would be safe. There was this part of me that was already planning what Jade and I would be doing in five years time. But there was no guarantee even of a tomorrow. I'd never been scared for my life before, but the week of training had worn down my psyche, and there had been a death, a literal death earlier today. But everything was gravy, Shae was forcing someone between her legs, watching us fight like gladiators for her amusement, and, oh yeah, whatever had killed André was still out there.

André had Set. I didn't.

Jade had Set. So not only was I scared for my life. . .

I was scared for hers.

And I didn't have any way of knowing what the future held. I hated feeling this powerless.

"Jade, you better be real." I straightened myself, and wiped my eyes. "It would be so fucked for someone to make as perfect a hallucination as you."

"We can only hope," she said.

"That's it, isn't it," I said softly. "All we have is hope."

She nodded. "Know what I think?"

"What?"

"Hope sucks."

And the way she said it was like a little child throwing stones at the world. Maybe I was just slowly losing my mind from sleep deprivation, but I burst out laughing.

"I'm serious," she said. "I've got this new boyfriend, and page two in the Gospel of Tristan says 'When in doubt, go get in trouble.'"

I smiled. "Is that verbatim?"

"Yes. I'm an attentive reader of him."

The bell rang. "Jade." I cupped her face in one hand and tried to wrap my mind around the presence of this beautiful, beautiful person. Her green eyes, her freckles. The fierce determination she was wrapping herself around. The hope she was making and holding out to the world like a sail. The words just started to come out. "I think I-"

"Do you think they're ever going to notice us?"

Jade turned, the words caught in my throat. I was stuck staring at her in profile.

It's strange to say, but Jade has the most beautiful face I've ever seen when seen from the side. I think it's her nose that does it. Or the tumble of her hair, or the expression on her face when she's got her attention on something else. It's one thing to be the subject of that attention. Quite another to watch it on someone else. It was like watching a leopard lounging in a tree observing a distant herd with vague interest, or like an artist watching something she's thinking about painting.

I tried to wrestle down the feeling that had risen in me. Tried to remember that there was an outside world.

"Well we got one of them," said Emmit. "Fifty percent's not bad."

I finally looked. The whole crew was back. Jade blushed, standing. "It's time for quarterfinals. I should go."

"We're going straight to the end, actually," said Sailor.

Jade's eyebrows shot up. "I must have missed that on the sheet." She glanced at me. "I haven't used it yet."

"Used what?" asked Vanessa. I hadn't seen her or Rodrigo, with whom she was characteristically intertwined, since we'd set out at the beginning of the day. Though they didn't have Set, they were a part of Talon, lead by Jeff and Thad, so they'd been training with their Clan. Talon lacked Tower's flair for universal assholery, but they also lacked its strength.