The Faerie Guardian

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

The Fish Bowl is an enormous orb that shimmers in the far corner of the Training Center. It had another name once, but it’s been called the Fish Bowl for so long that not even the mentors can remember the original name. Several trainees have already gathered at the edges of the opaque orb, waiting to stick their heads inside to watch my session with Dale. They’re supposed to be doing their own training, of course, but mentors always seem to turn a blind eye when it comes to fifth years.

On either side of the orb is a tower that stretches almost to the ceiling. I head for the tower on the right. Two figures sit at the very top, their legs dangling over the side. I recognize them from their hair color: blue and blonde is Hank, one of the Training Center designers; pink and brown is Tina, a mentor.

“So you’re today’s setting designer?” I call up to Hank.

He leans over and looks down. “Sure am.” He winks. “Hope you enjoy it.”

“Enjoy it?” I cross my arms. “The last setting you designed gave me a broken arm.”

Even from down here, I can see the mischief in his eyes. “It’s not my fault you fell off the swinging trapeze.”

The swinging trapeze. Now that was fun.

“You nearly ready?” Tina asks. I nod and step onto the starting plate. Tina gets up and walks across the beam that joins the two towers, presumably to check whether Dale is waiting on the other side. I look around. It could be my imagination, but every trainee I make eye contact with seems to give me some kind of self-satisfied smirk. I bet they all love the fact that I, the supposedly perfect trainee, was suspended for a week.

Well, I’ll just have to show them I still plan to be number one. I close my eyes and rub my hands together. I can do this. Breathe in. I can take down a guy more than double my size. Breathe out.

“Opponents ready?” My eyelids spring apart at the sound of Tina’s shout. She stands in the center of the beam, her legs slightly apart. She raises her stylus above her head. I tense. Sparks explode from the tip, and “Go!”

I run at the shimmering wall of the orb. It gives way, ghostly white tendrils wrapping around me as I pass through—and then I’m inside. I stop and look around, taking it all in as quickly as I can. An abandoned warehouse. Scaffolding to climb. Bars to swing from. Planks to balance on.

A roar from the other side of the warehouse attracts my attention. It’s Dale, barreling straight toward me without bothering to take a look at his surroundings. It’s remarkable how much he reminds me of the goblin I fought last night. I stand still, waiting for him to get closer. And closer. At the last second, I jump aside and grab hold of a metal chain. I scramble up it. Dale tugs the chain to the side, and I almost lose my grip as it swings wildly about.

I keep climbing. As soon as I’m level with a wooden platform, I jump onto it. The whole thing shudders as Dale throws his weight at it. I lose my balance. I fall, but manage to catch onto a metal bar. I swing, let go, and land on Dale’s shoulders. He topples to the ground, taking me with him. His breath escapes him in a grunt as he hits the ground. My head smacks concrete, and for a second I feel dazed. The transparent top of the Fish Bowl swims before my eyes.

I blink and sit up. I twist Dale’s head sharply to the side with my knees, but he’s too strong for me to do any real damage. I kick his face as he lashes out with a broken pipe. The sharp end slices across my arm.

I smell blood. Blood and dust. I roll away from him and jump to my feet. He’s up too. He throws a punch, followed closely by a kick. I dodge both, and while his balance is off, I sweep my leg out behind him. It connects with the back of his knees, forcing him to the ground. I jump onto his back, grab the end of the chain, and wrap it around his neck. He claws at the metal links, then changes tactics. Bringing his elbow up sharply, he knocks me off his back. He turns over, clamps his fist around my neck, and slams me down on the concrete floor. My skull screams in protest. My lungs reach for the air he knocked out of my chest.