15. Hull - The Losers' Bracket (Patreon)

Chapter 15

The Losers’ Bracket

Lily Whoever-She-Was waited for me on platform 9, perfectly poised and stern as a shopkeep. She wasn’t as richly dressed as that earnest weirdo Basil, but her people obviously had some money.  Her dress was a deep green wool that cinched up under the bodice, and a collared shirt of pristine white made her tanned face and bleached-out hair look weathered. Her hands looked chapped as she held them perfectly still by her sides. She was sturdy. Not ugly, by any means; not even really plain, just… hard. Swap out the green wool for salt-stained cotton and she’d be the perfect picture of a fishwife working the boats. My stomach, already sour with anxiety, sank even further. She looked like she knew her business.

I’d gone into the first match all piss and vinegar, and I’d gotten my ass handed to me. If not for Basil’s unbelievable kindness – he’s playing an angle, he has to be – I’d have already been turned out into the street and Ticosi would be taking strips out of my skin right that moment. I’d lost, and I couldn’t shake the feeling. I didn’t want to lose my one good card, but staying in the tournament was the only thing that would keep me alive. They had a room for me, they’d feed me, and unauthorized summoning was impossible for the duration of the tourney. So long as I won every match from here on out, I’d keep breathing.

And afterward? This thing can’t last more than a couple of days. What then, genius? I shook my head and stepped up the stairs to the platform. I had enough on my mind to be going on with – tomorrow would have to wait. That was, if I even made it ‘til tomorrow. I had no confidence I could win this match.

I took a deep breath and blew hard, shaking my hands to fling off some of the fear. Come on, dummy. You’ve been stabbed twice just for sleeping in the wrong spot. You can handle a rich kid play-match. I glared at the girl across the boards, and she looked back, cool and unaffected. Had her hands tightened on her skirts for a second? Maybe she was scared of the dirty gutter boy. I could only hope.

The announcer called our names and began the ritual for the bout, giving his call-and-response prayer to the Twins so the crowd could yell their part all together (which, by the sound of it, they loved doing) and then the isolation dome went up around us. This announcer had a hushed, respectful tone totally at odds with the one from my first match. It sounded affected and snooty, and I suddenly wished for the other guy hurling insults at me. This fellow was likely to put me to sleep instead.

When the crowd yelled their response, I felt a card slip out from behind my right ear and fly up in front of me. I put my eyes down, not wanting to see my Epic spell dangling like bait before the sharks.

“Hmm,” said the match-caller in his hushed, too-educated voice. “The Hateful Hammer Relic for Hull and a Troglodyte Tracker from Lily.”

I jerked my eyes skyward and saw two cards reflected near the top of the dome.

My heart unclenched the barest bit. If I lost, it wouldn’t cost me my Epic.

The commentator made a sound that I could only call detached interest. “Interesting. Those of you who saw young Master Hull’s first match know he lost an Epic, but as I look into his deck, it appears he has it back again. There’s a story there, I imagine. The Epic was the more likely one to be pulled as ante, but it seems that Fortune has favored the draw for the young man. We have a pair of Uncommons in the offing.”

My Relic came flying back and settled back into my Mind Home. It might not be as critical as the Sucking Void was, but I still felt much better once I had it back. Flexing my fists, I focused in on Lily to see her card aura. I needed to know how deep a deck this girl was fielding. If she had as many cards as Basil, I was shit out of luck exactly like before. Why did he give me the card back? No, focus!

Trying to see the silver glow of the cards felt like reading something that was written too small, but once I zeroed in, her aura looked dimmer than Basil’s right from the jump. A tiny bit more effort and I saw the cards spinning ‘round her. As before, they whirled too quickly to get a solid count, but there couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. Not so bad. More than I might wish, but far less than I feared.

I drew my two cards and three source. Neither of us mulliganed for new cards. I threw a Nether overhead when the commentator prompted us for the opening gambit, and Lily’s first source turned out to be Water. Maybe she really was a fishwife. Regardless, I’d be going first.

“Kill him, Lills!” someone shrieked from the stands. “Feed him his own guts!”

The crowd laughed and cheered, and I saw an older woman standing and shaking her fist in a sign that would have gotten her knifed in my neighborhood. Several others near her repeated the gesture, and other folks nearby threw bits of bread and heckled them goodnaturedly.

“Quiet, please,” chided the announcer. “This is a sacred contest.”

The crowd jeered even more loudly at that, and one man skinned his pants down to wag his bare butt in the air. I couldn’t help it – I chuckled just a bit. This contest was deadly serious for me, but I couldn’t help but appreciate somebody taking the piss out of the invisible commentator.

He sighed, a longsuffering sound. “Fortune favor your Summons, contestants. You may begin.” It felt deeply wrong to have such a quiet, urbane voice telling us to beat the blue hell out of each other. I liked this guy even less than the first.

No matter; I had more important things to attend to. I drew one more Nether and devoted the single one I had in the air, wishing with all my heart that the rules of this stupid game allowed me to put up another source when I went first; I had three waiting in my hand. As it was, though, that let me play my first move.

The heavy hammer settled into my hand, and I pounded across the arena as quick as I could, swinging hard at my opponent. She growled a curse that let me know she definitely worked a fishing boat and flicked a card from her hand to meet the blow. It shattered in the air, leaving a quick afterimage of the card that had been destroyed.

“Lily loses a Common Troglodyte,” the announcer murmured. “No doubt she’d have liked to play that instead of discarding it.”

The crowd booed and threw food at the magical dome. Lily had quite a few relatives in the stands, it seemed. I was painfully aware that I was following exactly the same gameplan that had earned me a loss in round one, but there weren’t many dazzling combos a fellow could manage with only two cards. I had exactly one trick; I just needed to make it work this time.

“Give me some space,” Lily snarled at me. “You smell worse than a box of clams left in the sun.” She flicked another source overhead and they both dimmed, one completely and the other halfway. Two separate cards shimmered out of her hands, and each of them flashed before me as their summons misted into being.

I stumbled away, grimacing. Two summons on turn one? Basil had been so slow out of the gate that I wasn’t prepared for immediate resistance. Neither of the troggies looked all that tough, and I didn’t see anything about Venom on either of the cards, thankfully. Still, a finger snap and a point from Lily was all it took for the red-crested Tracker to leap forward, spear extended. The slower, dumber-looking trog hung back, protecting its Summoner.

I backpedaled hard, but the troggie was fast and its spear was long. With a croaking cry, planted its spear in my ribs.

Or at least, that’s what should have happened, but as the iron spearpoint drew near, everything slowed down like molasses dripping out of a jar, even my backwards fall. That vicious point inched closer, and I felt a pressure on my mind that felt foreign, unearthly. CHOOSE, it whispered at me.

Mind racing, I remembered both Basil and Lily blocking my hammer blows with cards from their hands. At the time, I couldn’t understand how they’d gotten them in the way, but… maybe this happened every time? It hadn’t happened to me when Basil’s damned death bird had taken a swipe and knocked me out of the match, but I hadn’t had any options left at that point. That wasn’t the case now. I didn’t have any deck remaining in my Mind Home to absorb the blow coming at me right now, true, but I did have a hand full of cards.

Gingerly, I held out the fan of cards in my one hand, touching one of my source cards to the tip of the spear, making sure it didn’t catch my Sucking Void instead. I still needed that. Instantly, two Nether were ripped out of my hand and into sparkling shards, and time resumed its normal speed. As I hit the ground I swung my hammer at the overextended Troglodyte Tracker. The blow was wild but caught it on the jaw, and the fragile creature exploded into bits of light. I scrambled back to my feet, breathing hard.

“Hull sacrifices two source,” the announcer murmured.

The crowd called for my blood. The old woman had a whole section chanting with her now. “HIS GUTS! HIS GUTS!” Everyone was having a grand old time watching me get pounded.

My mind raced to catch up with what had just happened. That ethereal voice, the slowing of time – Fate had let me choose where to take the damage. Each one of my lost source cards had absorbed 1 damage. It was that much less Nether I could use to power up my blows, but I couldn’t complain. Had I not intervened with my cards in hand, that spear would have plowed into my ribs, found my Mind Home empty, and I’d have lost the match. Thank you, Fate. Turns out you’re not always so bad.

I drew two more source from my soul, feeling them form into cards in my off hand. Somehow I knew in my bones from that moment of stillness that any source still remaining in my soul would do me no good for blocking damage. Source weren’t really cards in the same way that Souls, Relics, and spells were – they just looked like cards in the hand for a moment until you brought them forth. The only way my source would serve me was on the field or in my hand as a temporary blocker. I put one more overhead; the first had come back to focused but wouldn’t be available to draw on until next turn.

It was time for the second half of my one-trick-pony show. Devoting my second Nether, I cast my Epic spell.

I breathed just a little easier as the starlight armor settled around me. No more troggie spears for me for a little while.

“And there’s that Epic I mentioned,” the announcer mused. “I wonder what he had to pay to get it back from his previous opponent.”

Nothing! I shouted at him in my mind as I rushed at Lily again. He gave it to me free and clear and it’s driving me crazy. Why did he do it?

The lesser Troglodyte jumped in front of my swing at Lily’s command, taking the hit. It didn’t kill it, but its arm hung at a funny angle and it hissed in pain. Under other circumstances I’d have felt bad. Hurting people was one thing; hurting dumb animals was another, and I didn’t like it. Then it tried to bite my hand with its razor sharp teeth and I reconsidered. The bite slid off my magical encasing, but still: troglodytes were mean little bastards.

Lily looked panicked as she backed away. “What does it do? The description was too long, and they flash by so quick. What does the card do?”

I gave her my nastiest smile. “It tells you to read faster.”

“A little competitive banter between the contestants there,” murmured the announcer.

“Shut up!” Lily and I both yelled at the same time.

I laughed to hear her echoing me so perfectly, but she didn’t seem to think the moment was amusing. Pulling more cards, she threw another Water source up, devoted one and focused another, and summoned a fresh Soul.

“Kill that scum sucker,” she barked, pointing at me.

This trogger was fishier and burlier than the others, with massive jaws that gaped wide as it lumbered toward me. I felt a moment of instinctive fear, and then I remembered: it can’t hurt me.

Laughing, I offered it my head. It chomped down hard, but I felt nothing more than a slight pressure. One of its teeth broke off and clattered onto the boards at my feet, and I gave it a friendly tap with my hammer just for fun. It wasn’t enough to kill it, but it yelped, scampering back towards its Summoner mommy.

In the background, I heard that boring, sleepy voice drone, “Ooooh, a severe misplay by Lily. She seems to have not understood the effect of her opponent’s spell, and now she’s devoted her hardest hitter in a futile effort to deal damage.”

Lily turned so red she was almost purple. “It’s not fair! I’ve never seen that card before. Who’s ever seen Nether cards?”

I put up my third Nether source and drew on both my available ones hard, devoting them and feeling the rush of rage in both arms and heart. “I’ve lived on the streets as long as I can remember. Don’t talk to me about fair.”

Running in with a roar, I focused on the spine of the retreating Troglodyte Warrior. Just because it couldn’t hurt me right now didn’t mean I wanted it hanging around later, and my hammer’s Overkill meant I could still hurt her with it, too. She’d had to overextend the beast to make it attack the first turn it was in play, and it couldn’t even defend itself. Not that it would have mattered.

My hammer, pulsing with a purple haze that extended out from my hands, tore through the troggie’s back, and it shattered into shards. The sweep of my hammer barely slowed, pushing on through to Lily. Eyes wide and desperate, she threw up her hand to block. Two cards shimmered and vanished, one a Water source and the other a Soul.

I was grinning from ear to ear despite the rage pounding in me. In fact, the thrill of the battle transformed the rage into something more like joy. I threw my face to the sky and let out a primal battlecry. It felt good, and the crowd loved it. Except the old lady and her friends; I heard one of them yelling about what I should do to my mother. I barely heard it. Hearing the cheers, ripping cards out of my enemies, instilling fear – suddenly I felt like I was born for this.

Careful, stupid. Last round was going great too, until it wasn’t. Don’t get cocky. I had one more turn on my Sucking Void. I needed to shut this match down quick. Lily looked at the one card remaining in her hand and her face fell.. She hesitated, looked to her one remaining injured Troglodyte, and said something I couldn’t quite understand in a seafarer’s dialect. It must have been exceptionally foul, because the old lady who’d been screaming accusations of incest sagged into her seat with a slack mouth. Whatever the words, the meaning was clear: Lily knew she couldn’t penetrate my Sucking Void, and she couldn’t cast anything else to protect herself. She was stuck, and her turn was wasted.

I used the moment’s respite to focus in on her card aura. I had to know how much damage she could still absorb. My heart lit on fire when I saw no glow at all. She had no cards left in her Mind Home. I must have miscounted at the beginning – she was played out.

I put up another Nether source and devoted both the new one and the one that had just refreshed. Last turn of invulnerability. How many damage can the cards in her hand absorb? I had no way of knowing, and it was the difference between winning and losing. If she didn’t go down now, my spell would expire and I’d be defenseless against her remaining troggie. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to block with it, would she? She had to be waiting for her chance to attack.

“Fortune’s favor,” I muttered, a fervent prayer in my heart. I waded in one last time and swung my hammer. The troglodyte didn’t block, and Lily shrank away from the blow, holding up her card. It shattered and showed itself.

The barest trickle of the hammer’s force bled through and hit her in the face, throwing her to the ground. She sprawled there, groaning and clutching her nose. I stood over her, blood ringing in my ears and hammer held tight in my fist. Every street instinct in my body was screaming to hit her again and again until she couldn’t get up.

Then I heard the crowd roaring, looked up, and realized I’d won.

“‘The round goes to Hull, Contestant 27,” the dry-voiced announcer said. “What a match.”

I staggered back, my muscles suddenly loose and rubbery. I put my hands on my knees and breathed deep. The announcer said something else, but I couldn’t hear it. I got to keep playing; Ticosi couldn’t get his hands on me yet, and that was worth a word of thanks to the Twins. When I looked up again, a thousand faces were still pointing and cheering. I gave a little wave and the noise doubled. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, and they loved that even more. Sure, there were a few sour faces in the mix – I couldn’t see where the old woman had gone – but these people didn’t see a violent street kid they wished they could ignore. They saw a violent street kid who’d just won.

The dueling barrier came down, and Lily’s ante card floated over to me. I snatched it out of the air and laughed in sheer glee. Another Uncommon card, and this one was actually decent!

Unlike the Fire spell I’d stolen from the tailor, this was trade-worthy. I suddenly itched to get to the trading tables I’d seen outside and make the most of it. Looking around, I saw Lily had already left the dueling box and was retreating toward the tunnel, head hanging low. I remembered that walk of shame; I’d made it myself not half an hour before. I felt the sudden, insane impulse to run and give back her card like Basil had done for me.

I shook my head and flicked myself on the ear with a finger. Don’t go soft in the head. Basil’s a bleeding noble. His family probably has a library full of Epics. It’s not the same thing. You won this fair and square. I watched her go and said nothing, but I didn’t like knowing how the girl felt right now.

“Excuse me, Master Hull?” It was the same functionary boy in his official robes. “My sincerest congratulations on advancing in the Tournament. If you’ll follow me, the Mess Hall has been prepared for the competitors and your room is also ready. Your next match is not until later today. Now is a good time to rest and prepare for the matches ahead.”

My stomach grumbled. The hand pie that had been sitting so heavy in my stomach before the match had disappeared, and I was ravenous. “Show me where to go,” I said. “And then show me the trading tables.”