─ CHAPTER FOUR
MARIKO HAD ALWAYS been overconfident.
She had been scorned and sneered upon for being a faerie with no magical prowess, but after practicing hard she had made her way to the top. She had bested them in sword-fighting, hand-to-hand combat and a verbal spat. She had a right to believe that she was the best, for she could achieve anything she wanted if she tried hard enough. If she lost this bout, then she would simply learn from her mistakes and try again (though maybe her ego wouldn't recover).
Mariko made her way over to the crowd, and saw that the men were taking a break from their workouts with a few scuffles. There were bets rippling through the circle, and when they saw her shoulder her way through the men, they gave her a wide berth as if she had the plague.
She couldn't help but feel nervous after she sized up their sweaty muscles and broad shoulders, but her pride urged her on.
To look confident is to be confident, Alaric had once told her.
Mariko rolled her neck with an audible pop and squared her shoulders. "I'll go against the winner of this round."
There was a silence and she thought she saw some open their mouths to refuse, but the presence of their king looming behind her silenced them. The men in the arena set their jaws and started circling each other.
One man was taller, but slimmer. There was an ugly scar across his eyebrow. The other man was slightly shorter, but much more broad-shouldered.
"What're the rules?" Mariko murmured to Ashryn.
"No weapons, jewelry, or any accessories that may injure your opponent in the ring. You may surrender, but you will be eliminated."
Mariko said nothing more, observing the two men. The shorter one had struck first with a solid punch to the face. It would've broken the blondie's jaw - if he had landed it.
The blonde one had ducked his head, corn-silk hair glinting in the sun. Sweat was already trailing down his temple and his chest; he had been fighting for awhile. He was skilled at ducking attacks, but he clearly had no power in his blows - it was evident when he landed a jab at the redhead's chest. The short one barely flinched.
Their bout lasted awhile.
It was clear that the tall one had the upper hand. His strategy was to tire out his opponent and dodge all the others offensives.
"His skill is with a dagger or a bow, isn't it?" Mariko asked Ashryn, and he nodded, surprise in his eyes. "No strength in his punches, but quick reflexes. I'd say he's better with a lighter weapon, and his aim is precise."
Ashryn dipped his head. "That's Langston. He's one of our most skilled archers. The redhead is Jansen. He's deadly with a sword, but no fist-fighter."
No fist-fighter, indeed.
Mariko had seen several openings, but Jansen had not. His movements were sluggish and he was panting heavily. Langston took his opportunity and pelted his opponent with a flurry of punches and kicks. Jansen went down. The crowd roared.
Jansen was smiling when he got to his feet and shook Langston's hand before joining the crowd again. Mariko saw someone hand him a towel, which he accepted gratefully.
Ashryn nudged her forward. It was her turn.
The crowd was unusually subdued as they watched her entire the makeshift ring.
"You know the rules?" Langston asked, flicking a piece of platinum hair out of his moss-green eyes. To Mariko's surprise, there was no condescension in his voice.
"You don't seem irked by the fact that you're going against a woman right now," Mariko observed. They began circling each other.
Langston shook his head, eyes never leaving her face. His first mistake. "There is a woman who has earned all of our respect here. She is as strong as any man."
They looked at each other for a moment before Mariko threw out a punch to his face, which he dodged easily with a duck of his head. She took the opportunity to throw out a kick to his knees, which sent him toppling. Not hard enough to break his kneecaps - only to disarm him.
Before Mariko could lung at him, Langston had already swiftly rolled onto his side and got to his feet, breathing hard. "That hurt like a bitch," he panted, and Mariko laughed. She tilted her head up, making sure to look arrogant.
"That's all you got?" she taunted, putting a hand on her hip. Oh, she would pay for it later.
Determination flashed in Langston's eyes and he leaped at her. She went down, but it didn't wind her as it should. His stance was all wrong; his knees were bent properly and his legs weren't far apart enough, so when he tackled her it didn't have as much force as it should.
His face landed in her chest and she couldn't resist shouting, "That's the closest you'll ever get to second base!"
He scoffed and pinned her by the arms. "Concede?" he asked.
"God, no." Mariko gasped before headbutting him.
They both reeled back from the impact. Mariko rolled them over and pinned him by the throat, squeezing hard enough so that he could barely gasp for breath.
"Concede?" she repeated, and he nodded, choking.
Mariko got off him, fixing her ponytail through ragged breaths. She really needed to practice - she hadn't been so winded when practicing with Alaric...
Or maybe it's because you've been away from Faerie for too long and your Fae immortality is wearing off. Now you're weak like a human, a voice whispered in her ear. Mariko brushed it off, still panting heavily.
"Well done," Mariko said to the blonde still massaging his throat. She offered him a hand with a small smile, half-expecting him not to take it. But after a moment, he did.
There were murmurs through the crowd and the sound of money being exchanged. Clearly, no one had bet that she'd win. Mariko felt rather than saw a pair of mismatched eyes burning into her back, but disregarded it. He could goggle all he wanted.
"Anyone else?" she said sweetly, and a distinctly feminine shape stepped from the shadows.
It was Diana Abernathy.
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MARIKO TRIED TO look supremely unconcerned while she waited for Diana to step into the circle. She felt tensed, coiled up like a wire. She was anticipating this fight, but also dreading it.
She had three minutes to observe Langston's fighting style, and he was clearly not very skilled. But Diana, from the sure way she strode towards the arena and the way her gaze never wavered from Mariko's, knew what she was doing. Not to mention that Diana knew how she fought, and would not underestimate her.
Mariko cracked her knuckles in what she hoped was a menacing way, and prepared her fists in front of her face. Diana looked at her chest instead of her face, which meant that she was prepared for upcoming attacks and could still see her face from her peripheral vision.
"Eyes up here, darling," Mariko called, and had the satisfaction of seeing her scowl. That was her weakness; being easily influenced emotionally. If she could make her angry enough, then she would lose her concentration.
Feeling more energized now that she had a plan, she waited for Diana to make the first move while thinking of something to goad her. It wouldn't do them well if she revealed that Diana was hopelessly in love with Ashryn.
Diana straight-up lunged for her.
Taken aback, she landed with a gasp, the air knocked out of her. The dark-haired girl started pummeling her in the stomach relentlessly, and she felt her breakfast churn in her stomach.
Rage coursed through her; Diana could have just pinned her to the floor and asked for her surrender. Instead, she was hellbent on making Mariko throw-up to humiliate her. Mariko could either try and knee her in the crotch, or break her nose with her head. Well, if Diana was leaving bruises, then Mariko would break her nose.
Wheezing through the pain, she managed to knock her head into Diana's face. There was a satisfying crack and the other girl toppled back with a yell. Meanwhile, Mariko was coughing up something that was suspiciously red.
"You bitch!" Mariko croaked. "Did you fucking rupture my stomach?"
"You broke my nose, you dumbass!" Diana cursed. "And that was a piece of strawberry!"
Mariko made a show of considering the girl's words while coughing up her breakfast. "That seems valid," she said between wheezes.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Ashryn being restrained by the other watchers, but he managed to break through and hurried to her side.
"Jesus, Mariko, are you alright?" he asked in a low voice, disregarding the pile of vomit beside her.
She shoved his hand off her arm and stood up on shaky legs. "The fight isn't over. Get out of the ring."
Ashryn looked at her for a moment, and then backed off.
Mariko stepped forward to Diana, who was still pinching her bleeding nose.
"That all you got, Abernathy?" she taunted under her breath. "Worrying over your pretty face when the man you love wouldn't take a second glance at you." It was harsh, but Mariko wished Diana would see sense. Pining over a man who clearly did not love her was not healthy for the soul.
Diana's eyes quickly filled with rage and she stood up. "Oh, don't pretend that he loves you, either. He's incapable of feeling that way."
Mariko opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but met Diana's fist instead. She managed to block it with her hand at the last second, but the movement still jolted her wrist joint. Mariko shook it out, cursing.
"You pack one hell of a punch, Abernathy." Mariko admitted, before trying a hook at the other girl's face. She dodged, and jabbed at Mariko's ribs.
To both of their surprises, Diana landed the jab. Mariko gasped at the pain, and grabbed onto the other girl's wrist before she could withdraw her hand. She twisted Diana's arm before wrenching her towards her chest. With her other hand, she punched Diana solidly in the jaw.
Diana grunted at the pain, but Mariko didn't allow her to recover from the pain before grabbing her by the neck and shoving her into the fence of the arena.
"Concede?" Mariko panted. The floor was moving in front of her. How odd. She stumbled towards Diana to ask if she was okay, but tripped over her feet.
A pair of warm hands caught her. "Mariko, are you okay?"
"I..." I think so, Mariko wanted to say, but she had already blacked out.
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ASHRYN WAS IN the middle of reading a report on the rise in livestock when movement shifted in front of her. He watched Mariko open her golden eyes blearily, her reddish-black hair a dark halo around her head. When she tried to sit up, he cast aside his papers and shoved her back into the bed unceremoniously.
"No." he said sternly. "The doctors have no idea why you fainted, but they told me to give you ointment for the bruises on your ribs and stomach."
They were in his rooms instead of the infirmary. Diana was in the hospital currently nursing her broken nose, and he didn't want a fight to break out between the two again.
Ashryn handed Mariko the ointment and gingerly she lifted her shirt. He looked at the smooth strip of skin. He knew that he should feel lust or something, but it was like seeing everything through a glass window. The princess applied the cream to the purple splotches on her stomach either oblivious or unconcerned at his attention, and asked, "Any internal bleeding?"
"No, but you should still be careful about movement for the few weeks." Ashryn said. Worrying over your pretty face when the man you love wouldn't take a second glance at you. "You shouldn't have said what you said to Diana before, you know."
Mariko glanced up at him disinterestedly. "You're right, but it was my strategy."
"Your strategy for what, getting jabbed in the stomach and ribs?" Ashryn asked dryly.
She snorted. "It was clear that she was more skilled than me, and I'd wager that she'd been training from a young age while I had only been training for two years. I planned on diverting her focus by taunting her." Mariko looked at Ashryn. "Don't pretend it isn't pathetic that she's been pining over you for so long, when you clearly don't love her." Her eyes dared him to contradict what she said.
"Still," Ashryn said, folding his arms.
Mariko smirked before saying casually, "You know, Diana mentioned something interesting to me. She said that you couldn't love her even if you wanted to. What did that mean?"
Ashryn debated staying silent, but the princess would probably just find another way to needle him. "You must have noticed that my eyes are two-colored."
"An unusual case of heterochromia, perhaps?"
"It's a long story, but I died once. The Wild Hunt went to claim my body, and gave me the choice to join the Hunt, or pass into the Afterlife. I chose to stay for... purposes, but after a year, I wanted to leave, so they made me a deal. I would trade my soul in order to leave the Hunt, and so I did. But my two-colored eyes remain. I know that I should feel something, but I can't." Ashryn thought back to the woman he loved, and the hollowness in his chest after she had broken his heart. "It's better this way."
Mariko stared at him. "You are undead?"
"Yep. The zombie groom-to-be." Ashryn tried to joke.
Mariko tilted her head. "You know that two members of the Hunt are missing?"
"Well, they're flying all over the place to collect dead bodies, I'd hardly say they're missing..."
"Be serious, Ashryn." Mariko said exasperatedly. "The leader of the Hunt told my sister that two of his Riders were gone. It must be powerful necromancy, for the Riders are bound as one. They cannot part, unless willingly or given express permission. And it must be serious, for although most of the Riders are faeries, they aren't sworn to the Queen of the Seelie and the Unseelie Courts."
Missing Riders.
That was impossible. They were an ancient group, known even to humans through bedtime stories. The Wild Hunt was a group of the dead and the Fae, immortal and of incredible magical prowess who soared the skies alongside the moon and stars. An eternity of freedom with the taste of moonlight on their tongues. Their only job was to carry the souls of the dead into the Afterlife.
"And... that's why I'm also trying to find Alaric." Mariko continued at his silence. "I believe he has the missing Hunters."
Ashryn perked up at this. "Why do you think that?"
"Alaric's always been... extremely fascinated by magic." the princess said carefully. "Although he came from a line of notorious sorcerers, he could not possess magic. The Wild Hunt - they neither create nor wield magic. They are magic. Perhaps he thought to steal their powers for himself. Especially their immortality."
Ashryn remembered the glimpses he had snatched of his half-brother. He had never talked to him personally, only saw him when he shot Laurier. Ashryn remembered the pure hatred in Alaric's stormy-grey eyes as he shot the person who mattered the most to him.
Would he really take hostage an immortal faerie of immense magic, capable of spearing his intestines on a spear in the blink of an eye?
Ashryn was jolted by something. "Why don't you just use a looking glass at your Faerie Court?"
Mariko stiffened. "I would prefer not to bring my sister, or any faerie, into this matter," she said at last.
He felt foolish as he asked why.
"Because," she snapped, "I do not trust my sister. She and Alaric were very close for a time, and I do not know if she helped perform necromancy to capture the Riders. Cassiopeia was certainly unbothered when the leader asked for her assistance."
Ashryn tucked away these pieces of information. Alaric and the Faerie Queen were close?
"That is why I must talk with your guards. Only when they cannot provide me information of Alaric's whereabouts will I seek my sister's assistance." Mariko said, letting her shirt drop.
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AFTER AN HOUR of talking with the men, Mariko felt she was ready to punch someone. It was true she had earned their respect, but clearly the ladies who she had eaten breakfast with had spread some nasty rumors of her. So, the guards, forced to tolerate her presence, only gave her inaudible grunts and shrugs as answers.
She wasn't getting anything out of them.
Mariko debated asking Ashryn to perform a tracking spell, but she had none of Alaric's belongings to summon him. She only had one last option left.
She had to go to her sister.