I inhaled happily as a flush moved across my body. There was money to be made if I placed my bet properly. And my help might improve the chances of the human winning. Work to the Hoot’s left side. Stay out of reach of the mace in his right hand.
She almost stumbled as she stopped slashing the air with the huge sword and glanced up at the crowd in my general direction. Then she swung the sword awkwardly as more bets were placed against her. However, she had shifted the position of her feet to test moving to the Hoot’s left, something nobody else may have seen. But I did. She had heard and understood me.
The heavy unwieldy sword made her practice swings seem slow and futile. Her newly revised supporting footwork was awkward—and it showed. She appeared unable to defend herself against a strong wind. I suspected otherwise.
She placed her right foot in front and shuffled ahead, testing the new stance until it smoothed, and her motions became more fluid. From that position, she could attack the small shield held in his left hand. If she remained far to his left, she might be out of reach of his mace unless he fully turned to face her and exposed his side. If he lunged at her, she could swing at his unprotected right underside.
Circle fast to his left, I encouraged her. Act like you’re trying to get behind him. He can’t use his mace if you move fast enough to stay out of reach. Remember, you’re faster than he is.
Again, she paused and briefly looked up into the stands, then began shuffling quickly to her right, which was his left, using faster and faster steps as she adjusted her attack. The warmups lasted only a brief time, just enough for the crowd to see them practice and whet their appetite for which combatant to wager on.
Brill nudged me and whispered fiercely, “Are you doing mind tricks?”
“Maybe.”
He’d noticed my concentration on my wrist-comp, a flexible layer of micro-film impressed into our skin. The comp was required by law. The portable device could identify a person and track everything they did in the digital world. I turned my arm so he could see. My bank account had held sixty-three credits a few moments earlier, the most in the last six standard months. I’d just bet sixty of them on the human, holding only three credits aside to buy food in case I lost. In the back of my mind, I wanted to go for it all.
My eyes returned to the small woman and again measured her chances against the Hoot. She was a third of his size and clumsy. Money thrown away. I shrugged in dismissal.
Brill turned his inner wrist in my direction with a sly grin. He’d done the same as me, fifty-seven credits had been in his account, but he’d gone all-in. Still, if he won his account would have more credits than ever before. Hell, fifty-seven was more than he’d ever had because we’d been on a hot streak lately.
I liked his wicked smile.
The odds began slipping. Slowly at first, then tumbling. At those fantastic odds, those who liked long-shots were making huge wagers. Others saw the chance of a windfall and tried to wager before they fell too far. The odds dropped like clay roof tiles in a fierce storm, settling closer to even, which undoubtedly made the house happy.
One fact kept forcing its way into my thinking. Of all the species in the galaxy discovered so far, only a few managed to equal the ferocity of humans. We were unique, not because we had the most muscles, the longest claws, or the sharpest teeth. When our backs were to the wall, our instincts were to reach for the nearest rock, hammer, stick, or knife. We fought to win. Always.
The woman in the arena switched to a smaller, lighter sword with a slight arc in the blade. It wouldn’t cut through bone like the broadsword. While the Hoot only needed to land one massive swing to dismember the woman, she would have to slice many times with the new sword to win. My heart sank. My money was as good as lost.
Watch his eyes, I pushed the anxious thought her way. He always looks where he is going to swing.
She stepped away from the practice circle and chugged water from a glazed stoneware cup. Her eyes searched the crowd, looking at places close to me. I turned away and pretended to talk to Brill, who seemed puzzled in response by my sudden display of public affection.
Inside, I quaked.
My stomach hurt, my head pounded, and sweat broke out across my forehead in tiny beads that threatened to join and run down my face despite the morning chill.
She knew about me and my mental power!
No, that couldn’t be true. Nobody was supposed to know about my ability. Not even my best friends, those who had lived in the streets with Brill and me. I’d done it hundreds of times. Made suggestions. Provided pointers. Not so much interference that the person became uncomfortable. Just enough to shift the balance of a situation in my favor.
When playing cards for copper pennies, I occasionally pushed opponents to throw in a winning hand because they were convinced my hand was better. Not often, but enough to make sure I left the table with more than I’d sat down with.
The Hoot towered over the human woman who seemed to shrink while standing at his side. His huge bulk strained the seams of his leather and bronze chest-plate. The shin-guards of the same material rose well above his angular knees, and additional armor protected the entire left side of his body. The armor covering
