“For the day?” asked the Lightbringer, Olympia. “Because I’m actually okay with that—”
“For the year,” roared Nikolai, “which means you leave the Academy, right now. There is no place here for cowards.” He scanned the suddenly silent crowd, and nodded, his voice quieting to its usual rumble. “If there are no further questions?”
“What are the rules of engagement?” Matthew wanted to know.
“You’re Paladin?”
“I will be.”
Nikolai nodded. “See to it that you don’t shame the name.”
Matthew stood even straighter, blue eyes flashing. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ve already given the rules,” continued the teacher. “Fight until the other surrenders or is unable to continue. The school Healers will be standing by to attend to you after the fight, and the dampeners should prevent any fatalities.”
“Should prevent them?” squeaked a small guy with pale skin, freckles, and carrot-colored hair.
Nikolai shrugged meaty shoulders. “Nothing in life is guaranteed.”
•—•—•
I wasn’t one of the first ten names called, so I found a good spot to watch the fights unfold. In addition to the glass window, five vid screens had lowered from the ceiling, each providing a high definition view of one of the pits.
On the first screen was Matthew, performing a handful of stretching exercises and looking calm and composed. Across from him was the class Titan, Erik Thorsson, who had told Nikolai to call him the Viking. He rolled his neck from side to side, and yawned, confident in his significant size advantage.
The pair in the second pit couldn’t have been more different from the first. On one side was Ishmae, looking even smaller and younger out of her robes, her dark face expressionless. On the other side was the ginger who’d been worried about fatalities. Shane was two years older than Ishmae, but equally small, and the whites of his terrified eyes were clearly visible on the monitor above.
Next over were Tessa and Olympia. Neither woman looked happy to be there, but where Olympia was white-faced with fear, her silver eyes enormous on the large vid screen, Tessa looked angry enough to chew rocks.
After that was the outspoken Silt, facing down a woman I’d yet to meet… but badly wanted to. Her codename was Orca, and she moved like a vid dancer, all sleek muscle and controlled motion. I was almost positive she was our other Stalwart.
The final pair were Caleb the Jitterbug, looking more than a bit sluggish without his power, and Santiago the Druid. Neither looked happy to be there, but Santiago still had the presence of mind to toss a confident smile—and a wink—to his pit’s camera.
I was kind of excited to watch those two beat each other senseless.
•—•—•
With five vid screens, it was impossible to keep up with all the action, but I did see Olympia immediately drop to her knees, throw up her hands, and surrender. For someone who hadn’t wanted to even participate, Tessa seemed oddly irritated that she didn’t get to throw a punch.
The second fight was over almost as quickly. In just under a minute, Ishmae had Shane flat on his belly and splayed out on the ground, her arm snaked under his chin. He waved his own pale arms ineffectually for about ten seconds, then dropped into unconsciousness.
Santiago didn’t do anything fancy, but it was clear this wasn’t his first fight. After a minute or two of circling, he sidestepped Caleb’s charge, grabbed an arm, and swung the Jitterbug into the wall with a thud audible even from the observation room. Caleb staggered back to his feet just in time to receive a perfectly timed punch to the face, breaking his nose with a splatter of blood, and dropping him to the ground. This time, the Jitterbug didn’t stand back up, curling in pain on the pit floor until the match was called.
Someone on the observation deck threw up. I wasn’t particularly grossed out—the shit show I’d come through with Her Majesty on the way to the Academy had been way worse than a broken nose—but I wasn’t thrilled either. I’d been in plenty of fights in the orphanage, but those had been for something. This was just violence for its own sake.
The other two fights were less one-sided. Silt appeared to have an edge in strength and weight over Orca, but the other woman was always two steps ahead, reacting to attacks almost like she could see them coming before they even happened. She moved a lot like the Stalwarts I’d seen in vids; the real Paladin or even The Scarlet Dynamo.
In fact, she moved just like them.
I frowned, suddenly suspicious, and looked to the other fight to see Matthew duck a wild punch from the Viking. The Titan’s fist hit the wall with a crack that echoed through the room, but it was the stone that crumbled, not the big man’s fingers. Meanwhile, Matthew landed three or four lightning-quick punches into the other man’s midsection, hard enough to break a normal man’s ribs. Neither fighter appeared winded yet, let alone injured.
Son of a bitch. Nikolai had said the dampeners would be high enough to cancel our active powers… but Stalwarts and Titans had passive power sets. Unless the dampeners were turned up all the way, the three of them would have some measure of their strength, speed and durability.
I was suddenly very glad my name hadn’t been called yet.
•—•—•
Silt put on a good showing, but as the fight wore on, Orca just kept getting faster. The end came without warning, as she slipped past Silt’s punch, and dropped the other woman with a flurry of blows too quick to see. Similarly, Matthew rode out the Viking’s initial rush, returning multiple, pinpoint strikes for every one of the Titan’s missed punches. When Thorsson finally fell, more than fifteen minutes into the match, I couldn’t tell if it
