Warriors

FOURTEEN

Magnolia slipped on the boots that Sofia had given her the night they escaped from el Pulpo only to be captured later during the war between their two societies. That horrific night had almost resulted in her death. And tonight, Magnolia was going back to war. Colonel Carmela Moreto was going to die. And Magnolia was going to kill her.

Bending down, she laced up the leather boots. Lighter than her bulky Hell Diver boots, they would allow her to move nimbly in the arena.

She wasn’t as fast as she once had been, or as thin, but she had packed on muscle from routine exercise and a healthy diet of vegetables, fish, and fruit.

“Change of plans,” said a voice.

Rodger and Sofia stood at the entrance to her quarters. He still wore his Hell Diver armor from training earlier, but Sofia had changed into a dress and red shoes. Yellow flower petals graced her braided hair.

She wasn’t dressed for the fight. She was dressed for her final farewell to General Nick “Rhino” Baker. After the fight, they would honor him and spread his ashes over the water.

“What do you mean, ‘change of plans’?” Magnolia asked.

“Colonel Moreto has requested a new site for your battle,” Rodger said.

“What? Can she do that?”

“Yes,” Sofia said. “By tradition, any member of the Black Order can make a request for the site of a fight to the death.”

“So where is this going to take place?” Magnolia asked.

“The Hive. It’s a weird request, but maybe she thinks it will distract you.”

“Good luck with that.” Magnolia finished buttoning up her purple vest. Then she put her Hell Diver armor on over her chest and torso. Armored kneepads and arm guards went on next.

Finally, she strapped on the two crescent blades, sheathed over her back, and a duty belt that held a long dagger.

“Let’s get this over with,” Magnolia said.

She followed Sofia and Rodger out of the room and through the capitol tower. No one spoke, but Rodger glanced over his shoulder several times.

“You sure you shouldn’t be working with Captain Mitchells and Samson on the airship?” she asked.

“Ha! And miss you kicking her butt? Forget it, Mags. Samson said they’re almost done anyway. Should be in the air tonight if all goes to plan.”

Rodger pushed his glasses up on his nose—his nervous tic.

She knew that he was worried about the fight, and her heart ached knowing how disappointed he was in their stagnant relationship. Between their many duties, they stole what moments they could together, and she still dealt with her own issues not wanting to get close to him—or anyone.

Perhaps someday, when the Vanguard Islands were finally safe and at peace, there would be time for her and Rodger, but for now, the timing just wasn’t right.

A cloudless sky greeted them outside. By the time Magnolia made it down to the docks, she was already sweating under the sun’s hot glare.

Sergeant Wynn and a contingent of heavily armed soldiers were at the dock. He gestured toward a ferry and reached out a hand as she approached.

“Ma’am,” he said politely.

Rodger, who had already boarded, reached out, and she took his hand, grinning at his jealousy. Six militia soldiers got on the boat with the three Hell Divers.

It was a short ride to the Hive, but enough time for a pod of spinner dolphins to find them. They jumped and gamboled next to the boat.

“They’re rooting for you,” Rodger said.

“I’m sure Moreto ate a dolphin or two in her life,” Magnolia said.

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Sofia replied. She watched the magnificent creatures, but Magnolia could tell that her friend’s mind was with Rhino.

Since her return to the islands, the grief had gotten worse, and she had slipped deeper into the darkness of depression. But Magnolia would be there to make sure her friend pulled through. In time, she would start to heal.

The dolphins scattered as the ferry approached the rig mounted with the decommissioned airship. Another boat of militia soldiers cruised over the waves around the platform.

There was plenty of security out, and only a few Cazador vessels, mostly fishing trawlers or runabouts. But one boat was different from the others.

Stacked with wood, it rode low in the water.

Sofia got up from her seat and put a hand over her mouth. The yellow petals in her hair blew away in the wind, fluttering out over the water.

“I should never have left him,” Sofia sobbed. “I should have stayed here and tried to convince him not to follow the mad king.”

Magnolia put her hand on her friend’s back. She would cut her some slack for calling X mad.

“Nick fought so hard for so long and didn’t even get to enjoy our freedom,” Sofia said. “It’s all he ever wanted.”

“I’m so sorry, Sofia, but he did what he did knowing it would safeguard your freedom.”

Sofia turned to face Magnolia. “What good is that if he’s not here?”

“I know it hurts,” Magnolia said. “But time will heal your wounds, like it has healed mine. And you never know, you might see him again someday.”

Sofia shook her head.

The boat putted into the marina built under the airship rig. Dozens of vessels were already docked along the piers between the rig’s massive uprights.

Wynn tossed the mooring line to a soldier, who pulled them in to the pier and tethered the boat to a pole. Rodger jumped out and reached for Magnolia’s hand.

More militia soldiers waited on the piers. Some were newly trained, coming from jobs that no longer existed now that the Hive was decommissioned.

Wynn sent them across the piers to await Colonel Moreto’s arrival. Then Magnolia and the other divers followed him over to the ladders.

Magnolia looked up at the massive ship. Porthole windows lined the hull, some of them darkened by interior drapes drawn by the sky people who lived there. Some residents stood in hatches that opened to newly constructed balconies.

A cage much like the one at the capitol tower took Magnolia, Sofia, Rodger, and Sergeant Wynn to the top platform installed over the airship’s domed roof.

Sofia wiped away a tear as she looked at the boat holding her lover’s remains.

Magnolia took her hand and Rodger’s. They were two of the dearest people in her life, and she would do anything for them.

At the top platform, the gate opened. Michael and Layla stood talking with King Xavier and Rodger’s parents. Several Cazadores were also there, including Imulah and two scribes. Notably absent was the crew of Discovery. Les, Samson, and Eevi were getting the ship flightworthy for whatever came next.

The small number of spectators was a significant change from the screaming crowds that normally watched from the stands of the Sky Arena. Four rows of chairs had been brought up for the spectators. The sand and dirt of the arena had been replaced with a metal deck, and red flags marked the ring for the combat. Ton and Victor, with spear shafts held vertically, stood at parade rest outside the ring.

At every corner of the rooftop, militia soldiers stood at their posts. Machine-gun nests and flamethrowers looked out over the water.

Although vegetable gardens still grew in long planters across the platform, most of the rooftop had been turned into a firebase.

The group of sky people parted, and X strode out. His open shirt revealed scars new and old. The king had seen better days. Bags hung under his eyes, one of them still swollen from the beating he took at the Purple Pearl. The bruises and scabbed cuts gave the only color to his pale skin.

But it wasn’t just exhaustion and injuries that made him look like a beaten old man. He was clearly hungover from a night of heavy drinking.

“You’re sure about this?” he said in a gruff voice.

“Do you really need to ask?” Magnolia replied.

Imulah walked over to her, his hands clasped behind his robe.

“I wish you the best of luck, Magnolia Katib,” he said. “With all honesty, I hope you end Colonel Moreto swiftly and without injury to yourself.”

“I’m still not apologizing for your hand.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

He bowed slightly, and Magnolia couldn’t help feeling a pang of remorse for the way she had treated him.

“You’re a good man who was forced to do some bad things,” she said. “And I am sorry about your hand.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry as well.”

A shout drew their attention to the fences on the south side. Magnolia went over to look. A dozen boats filled with militia soldiers were flanking another ferry. Even from this height, she could see it was Colonel Moreto sitting on the deck, with Lieutenant Sloan guarding her.

Magnolia waved Rodger away from the growing crowd. She crossed over to the flagged-off combat ring while the other spectators took their seats.

“When this is over, I want to talk to you, okay?” she said.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

Magnolia smiled and kissed Rodger on his lips. “Do not worry, okay? I’ve got this, and everything is going to be fine.”

“Remember, Mags,” he said. “You are fearless, fast, and freaky.”

“Been a while since you reminded me.” Magnolia recalled the words from a card game with Commander Rick Weaver on the Hive long ago. It seemed like yesterday.

Rodger reached into his pocket. She half expected another wood carving, but instead he pulled out a white and purple seashell.

He said, “When I was in captivity, this was my talisman. I rubbed it each night for good luck. Now I want you to have it.”

Rodger placed it in her open palm and kissed her on the cheek.

“May it bring you luck now, Mags.”

Then he walked over to stand next to his parents, leaving her with the smooth purple shell in her hand. Her heart thumped. Rodger was a goofball, but he was her goofball and a sweet, sweet man. She closed her fingers over the shell and tucked it into her vest pocket.

Layla came over and gave Magnolia a hug. So did Michael.

“Trust yourself and stay wary,” he said.

“I will.” Seeing Layla’s worried expression, she smiled and said, “Don’t worry. It’s not good for the baby.”

“You’re a brave gal,” Cole Mintel said, putting his arm around Rodger. “For putting up with my son, that is.”

Bernie shook her head, but Magnolia chuckled—until she saw the cage rising back up to the top of the roof.

Lieutenant Sloan opened the gate to let Colonel Carmela Moreto out. The handcuffed colonel walked toward the flags.

Magnolia glared at the woman, who was twenty years her senior. The colonel had opted not to wear her body armor or cape, instead donning a light shirt with brown leather arm guards that partly covered her tattoos. A turquoise necklace hung at her throat.

She held Magnolia’s gaze as she halted and Lieutenant Sloan unlocked the cuffs.

Thank God they didn’t let her bring that dumb bird, Magnolia thought.

King Xavier walked over, limping slightly. His face had taken on a new greenish color, and for a moment Magnolia thought he might puke. Imulah stepped up to translate.

The entire rooftop fell silent but for the whistle of the wind and the distant call of a seagull. X cleared his voice and wiped his forehead with his stump.

“Carmela Moreto, you stand before me today accused of treason and plotting my death,” X said. “If it were up to me, I’d kill you myself, but seeing as how I lost my arm recently, I’m going to let Hell Diver Magnolia Katib have the honor.”

Imulah relayed his words while Moreto kept staring at Magnolia.

“You have been granted your request to fight for your freedom, and you have also been granted your request to do so here, on this rooftop.” X tapped the ground with his sandal. “If you survive, you will be exiled to the Iron Reef in Belize, to hold the fuel outpost for the rest of your days.”

Imulah translated, and Moreto bared her sharpened front teeth to X.

“I will be glad to be rid of you,” X said. He nodded at Magnolia and stepped away.

Lieutenant Sloan tossed a cutlass onto the deck. Moreto walked over and picked it up while Magnolia unsheathed her two sickle blades.

The people straightened in their seats. Rodger, standing in the back, brought two fingers to his mouth. She smiled at him and then turned to Moreto.

“Any final words, bird lady?” Magnolia asked.

Imulah spoke, and Moreto replied with something about an octopus and death.

“Yeah, yeah,” Magnolia said.

All across the rooftop, militia soldiers turned from their posts to watch. Wynn stepped up beside Sloan.

Moreto moved first, charging faster than Magnolia had anticipated. Backing, she let Moreto take the first swing.

The colonel struck hard, and Magnolia brought up her two blades together to deflect the powerful blow. The newly sharpened blades clanged against the rusted metal of Moreto’s cutlass.

Magnolia screamed and kicked Moreto in the shin, but the old woman responded with a punch that almost caught Magnolia on the jaw.

Moreto swung again, screaming in a raspy voice. Her blade arced from the side this time, and Magnolia parried the blow with the blade in her right hand, then sliced with the left.

The tip found purchase, cutting the turquoise necklace from Moreto’s neck. It hit the deck, drawing the colonel’s gaze downward. Magnolia used the stolen moment to strike again, bringing the curved sword in her right hand upward.

Moreto moved at the last moment, but not fast enough.

Sharp metal cut through cartilage and flesh, severing the colonel’s ear. It fell to the deck, beside her necklace.

Moreto let out a screech and swung the cutlass several times, forcing Magnolia backward. The crowd got to their feet.

Moreto jabbed, but Magnolia jumped out of the way.

Instead of keeping her momentum, Moreto stopped and went back to her necklace. A trail of blood dripped from her head as she hurried away.

Magnolia didn’t give chase but just watched, curious. The necklace must have sentimental value.

“Kill her, Mags!” someone shouted from a machine-gun nest. All across the roof, soldiers had paused to watch the fight.

Moreto brought the necklace up, but instead of putting it back on, she brought it to her lips. Her cheeks expanded as she blew into it. The whistle sounded much like the one that el Pulpo used to call the Octopus Lords from the depths.

Magnolia’s heart skipped when she realized that this wasn’t to summon the beasts—it was a signal.

“Oh shit,” she said, and started walking toward Moreto, who was running toward the north side of the rooftop.

A gull flew overhead and then swooped down. Not a gull. It was Moreto’s white cockatoo.

Moreto stopped and reached up for the bird to land on her wrist.

“You got to be kidding me,” Magnolia said. She almost broke out laughing. “You called your dumb bird to help you, huh? Guess it’s the best you could do, since your soldiers didn’t come to help.”

Imulah, who had followed them across the roof, translated to Moreto, who put the bird on her shoulder.

She spoke rapidly and then blew into the necklace again.

Imulah looked over to Magnolia, eyes wide. “She says her soldiers are already here.”

Footfalls sounded across the deck as people left their seats and milled about. X drew his sword and walked over.

“What the fuck is she talking about?” he asked.

“Horn,” Imulah continued. “El Pulpo’s bastard has come to the islands.”

Moreto spoke again and then brought up her whistle.

“Her bastard,” Imulah corrected.

“Somebody, shoot her!” Magnolia yelled.

Several soldiers aimed their rifles, but X held up his hand.

“Wait,” he said. “I don’t—”

An explosion tore into the Hive, rattling the entire airship and knocking Magnolia to the deck, beside X.

Screaming chaos sounded in all directions.

Another blast hit a machine-gun nest, erasing the two militia soldiers aiming their rifles at Moreto.

Magnolia pushed herself up and ran. Three strides later, a third impact knocked her down again. Then the realization struck her.

Moreto had requested to leave the capitol tower and fight on the Hive instead of the Sky Arena, to draw the king and his soldiers into the open.

Magnolia got up and bolted after Moreto as gunfire hit positions around the north side of the airship. Another militia soldier dropped to the deck, his head blown open by a high-caliber round.

Moreto was running right for the machine-gun nest now.

She’s going to freaking jump.

“No you don’t, you fucking bitch,” Magnolia growled.

Machine-gun fire rang out from the other weapon turrets. Judging from the muzzle angles, they were aiming at boats.

But how had Horn and his men gotten past security?

She considered throwing her dagger at Moreto to stop her, but the woman was already too far away. When she got to the machine-gun nest, she kept running, right over the edge.

More explosions rocked the airship. The skinwalkers’ bullets were hammering the machine-gun nests across the northern edge of the rooftop.

Magnolia hunched down in the nest where Moreto had leaped, just as tracer rounds nearly took off her head. On all fours, Magnolia climbed over the two dead militia soldiers. Her hands slopped into the blood pooling around their mangled corpses.

One of the men grabbed her.

“Help me,” he mumbled, gripping a spurting wound.

Another blast went off behind her as a second machine-gun nest vanished in smoke. Most of the sky people had retreated toward the elevator, but they couldn’t all go down at once.

She spotted Michael and Layla waiting to get on behind Cole and Bernie. Rodger was running toward her with a rifle.

When Magnolia turned back to the injured soldier, his eyes had closed in shock.

“Rodge, help me!” she yelled.

He climbed into the nest and pressed on the man’s belly while Magnolia risked a glance over the sandbags.

Another flurry of rounds forced her down. The spray then chopped into the machine-gun position to her right, blowing one of the soldiers backward in a spray of red mist.

She picked up a dropped assault rifle and moved closer to the edge for a better look.

“Mags, be careful!” Rodger shouted.

Now she saw why the militia hadn’t detected the skinwalkers’ vessels.

Three hundred yards out, a submarine had surfaced.

Another shell exploded behind her, followed by a chorus of screams. Ducking, she turned. A projectile had hit the elevator cage. It had been packed with people frantic to get off the rig.

Twisted metal and smoldering bodies lay strewn under a pall of smoke.

“Mom! Dad!” Rodger shouted.

A force suddenly slammed into Magnolia, knocking her backward. She managed to bring up her hand to shield her face as a scorching wall of fire washed over her and Rodger.