I sat on the grass beyond the palisade wall. Inside was the buzz of a small city. That’s what the fort had become in just a few days. Thousands of men occupied the space within. The smell of woodsmoke drifted in the air, mingling with the scents of cooking. Beyond that was the faint but noticeable odor of the latrines.

  The night was cool. I had my helm down. I was in no mood to listen to the voice. Without my helm, the night was dark and impenetrable to my human eyes. I kind of liked it like that. It was a moment when I felt very mortal. My notions of saving the city in a single season were coming apart like shredded curtains, the light of realization starting to peek through.

  I needed to be realistic. I had made the right choice that day. The best possible outcome against such powerful Griidlords would have been for the team to need to waste further days journeying to the Boston Tower for more healing. The worst case could have seen one or more of us dead. Griidlords died every Falling, especially later in the season. Locked Orbs could hold the wealth of several regular Orbs, and coming at the end of the season with no prospects to win more, Griidlords were slower to yield. There were also those who attacked without reservation, who enjoyed building their legend on the skulls of slain enemies.

  Without the HEARING of my helm, I didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. I only detected the movement when it was right behind me. Startled, I turned and saw the hulking figure of Magneblade standing over me. I suppressed the urge to cringe. I still remembered the way he fixed his gaze on me when I made the call for us to yield. I could still see the way he fought the stronger Axe. He was alive when he held POWER, alive when he battled. I had put a stop to that.

  Magneblade dropped to the grass alongside me and let his helm fold back. The hard face beneath was staring into the darkness much as I had just been. Then he turned his eyes toward me. I waited, apprehensive, unsure.

  “You impressed me today.”

  I was startled.

  Then he turned his face to me, and I saw no malice. He said, “You have a little bit of something in you like I have in me. It’s not quite the same, but it’s kindred to it. I want to test myself against opponents. I know I have limitations—I reached my level cap years ago—but those limits… they make fighting someone like her more… it’s the impossible that’s most exciting.”

  I nodded but didn’t interrupt.

  He said, “You have something like that. You need the win. It wasn’t easy for you to call quits today. I didn’t think you’d really learned the lesson yet. Wasn’t sure you ever would, really. But you did it, and because you did, we’re all intact, all ready to try again.”

  I said, “Thank you…”

  He smiled thinly. His face never showed too much by way of emotion, and I felt the gesture warmly inside me.

  A voice rang across the night air. “Are we interrupting?”

  I turned my head and saw the other three approaching. They came to where I sat with Magneblade and each of them settled on the grass around me.

  Chowwick said, “You did good today, lad. I know that wasn’t easy for ya, but it was the right thing.”

  Alya added, “It’s a difficult tradition for the new Sword, to be given command over veterans more experienced than he. But we won’t function well without a strong Sword, and part of that will always be command. The Sword needs to have the awareness and the knowledge to know who to boost and where to direct his powers and forces. The tradition might help weed out those who aren’t truly compatible with the role.”

  I exhaled loudly. “I’ve barely used BOOST. I never seem to get the opportunity. Everything happens so fast.”

  Chowwick said, “Ah, lad, that’ll come. BOOST is better in the open field when there’s armies breaking up the action. We’ve been forming tight around you too, while you’re learning, and it takes a bit of space to really get a bit of BOOST going.”

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  I said, “You normally spread out more?”

  Alya said, “Yes, it gives us more room to try and match type advantages, gives the Sword more space to operate BOOST. But when your level is still on the low side, and while you’re learning the ropes, it makes sense for the others to stay near you.”

  I thought about that for a moment. There was silence. Tara couldn’t abide silence. She spoke quickly, soothing herself by ending the moment. “Your friend Olaf is making his presence known in Houston.”

  My head snapped up at that. “He’s in the Choosing then?”

  Magneblade snickered, “Everyone is in the Choosing there. Everyone.”

  I looked to him and back to Tara. “I don’t understand.”

  Tara said, “They’re doing it Indianapolis style. They’re holding an open tournament. They put out the call late because of all the fighting with Dallas and Miami. They invited anyone to take part.”

  “Anyone?” I could feel the incredulousness in my own voice.

  Chowwick said, “Damn fools.”

  Alya said, “Maybe not.”

  Chowwick said, “It’s madness. With all the other Choosings ended and with no conditions on entrants, they’ll be fucking swamped. Four suits to be filled? They’ll have desperate men from one coast to the other piling in there. There could be hundreds.”

  Alya said, “Thousands even.”

  Chowwick said, “Then it’s fucking madness, like I said.”

  Alya said, “It might be brutal, that might be true, but maybe not mad. Houston has no tradition of Griidlords. They have no team. Can you imagine what it would be like if they formed their team and every member was level 1 or 2? It would be as good as having no suits at all.”

  Chowwick cocked an eyebrow. “And it’s better to see hundreds crippled or killed in the arena while they get there?”

  Alya said, “I’m certainly not saying that I approve, but there’s a certain cynical genius to it. They can let a huge pool of contenders fight, in full suits. The ones that make it to the end will have logged hours and hours of battle, far more hours of truly trying experience than our Choosing affords. If they start with a thousand fighters contending for a suit and conduct head-to-head matches, the victor will have to win nine or ten fights. More if they hold longer heats for the better candidates that make it to the final round.”

  I said, “Full suits?”

  Alya said, “In your Choosing there was only one vacant suit, so the contenders couldn’t wear a full suit. Leveling is slower and less relevant in a half suit. The priests use mystorium to add the bulk of material needed to form the suit, but because the suit’s mind is split between multiple wearers, there’s no real connection. Didn’t you notice how you never leveled until you were wearing the full suit?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but I thought that was to do with changing status to Chosen Sword.”

  Alya shook her head. “You level in a full suit. You need to be truly connected to it. Your mind can gain enough affinity with attributes for them to increase, but the suit needs to learn with you to truly level, and the half suits just don’t allow for that connection.”

  I said, “So they’re holding a tourney using all four of the vacant suits? Pitting Axe against Arrow and Sword against Shield, probably to deny type advantages?”

  Alya said, “Who knows how they’ll do it. Maybe they’ll throw type advantages into the mix. Chowwick’s right, it will be terribly brutal. Many will die wielding that kind of power against each other…”

  I finished for her, “But the ones who survive will be leveled enough to do something…”

  Tara’s voice was low, her tone disturbed. “I heard dozens have died already…”

  Chowwick said, “Half of what you’ll hear out here is made-up bullshit. Soldiers spew shit with nothing better to do.”

  I thought about Olaf. I thought about his urgency to win a suit, his desperate need not to be denied the wonders of being embraced by the power and awareness that the suit brought. He couldn’t have been prepared for a gauntlet like the others were describing. I found a sadness in me. He was a natural as a Shield, but would he be cast in that role amongst the chaos of so many contestants? As good as he might be as a Shield, his odds of winning or even surviving could be very low. Chance alone would dictate that he not make it to the end in one piece.

  I said, “And Olaf’s doing okay?”

  Tara said, “Oh yeah. He’s made himself a favorite to win the whole thing. He’s won every fight so far. I think your friend may be the new Shield of Houston before much longer.”

  I smiled at that. I knew it would mean one day having to face him in the field, but I wanted him to have what I had. I wanted him to get what he so deserved.

  Chowwick whistled softly. “That would be a start for them. The winners could come out of that with a lot of experience, half-decent levels even…”

  Alya said, “I can’t say I think it’s worth it, but yes, Houston could be off to a better start than anyone expected.”

  Then Tara said something that made my blood cool a little in my veins.

  She said, “That’s if the Green Man doesn’t get them first.”