Long ago, Atos was divided into uncivilized territories by warring barbarian tribes. Ethnic etymologies such as Hoemba and Yoawarkii made it difficult to categorize the outlying areas. Fortunately, under BORA’s Treaty of the Four Zones, the territories were retitled the more manageable “Forest Zone” and “Mountain Zone.”

- Information Available to Borges Citizens, Pamphlet I

Anthony clasped his hands together, business-like.

“Which way, Hayles?”

Hayley had been grinning since her feet touched the ground—she felt extremely rebellious and proud of it. The familiarity of the streets was coming back to her. She took Anthony’s hand into her own.

“This way,” she beamed.

She led the two boys a few blocks through some twisting alley shortcuts. Anthony could hear music coming from somewhere, and then they popped out into the town square.

“Wow.” Philip said, awestruck.

The square was brightly lit, red paper lanterns hanging from strings converged at the center of the square above a massive fountain. A folk band was playing off to the side, and there were food stands and peddlers and hawkers and cherry trees, and all the noises and lights and smells whirled together in a wonderful sensory experience that reminded Anthony and Philip of Mint Village’s community dining on a grander scale. But the part that really caught their attention: the other invokers.

Children of all ages were summoning, letting their imaginations run free for the first time in their lives. There were luminous knights, pegasi, multi-colored ghosts, and all manners of familiars hugging close to their invokers. A girl laughed gleefully as she ran by with a floating rainbow fish, her parents walking behind. Two boys were having a light wrestling match with their lithe humanoid commands. A toddler, barely able to walk, was summoning as he wobbled next to his parents. Monsters defying classification popped into existence for split-seconds before moving on to other planes.

“This is absolutely amazing,” Philip gawked at everything in wonder. “I haven’t seen such invoking…ever, I believe. This is what should be happening in cities all over Atos. Invokers should be given the chance to stretch their wings.”

He turned to Hayley, waiting for her to respond. She was watching—with a noticeable degree of sadness—the girl with the rainbow fish burble happily to her mother and father, a tiny hand enveloped in each of theirs.

“The Borges are twats,” Hayley said cheerily, but with effort, “families should be together.”

Yea, Anthony said to himself, families should be together. An image of Munroe—pale, shaven, and smiling, of all things—jerked into his head. As the image shifted into Munroe’s Nightmare beast, he shook away his thoughts.

“I wonder if any of these invokers are capable of colossi.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it. There are so many of them, one’s gotta be as good as you.”

Anthony laughed. “Hah, as if. I’ll take any of these invokers on, any day.”

“Oh yea?”

“Yea!”

“What if you lose?”

“Losing is a part of life,” he grinned, “just as long as I don’t quit.”

“Well, alrighty then!” Hayley punched at him playfully. She went up to the two boys who were wrestling their invocations, and tapped one of them on the shoulder. “My boy says he can whoop either one of your beasts in a rumble.”

“He can try,” the boy grinned back, a sandy-haired kid with a chipped tooth. “C’mon mate, we don’t bite. Your command has gotta have two legs—only two legs, mind you—and a head. First one to put a knee or back to the ground loses. No shifting mid-match.”

“No shifting?” Anthony said in disbelief, “That’s not a rumble.”

“That’s how we do it here, buddy.”

Philip ran over, tripping. “Eh, Hayley, what are you starting?”

“Ah c’mon Specs, live a little. Anthony can invoke now, let him lay the smackdown!”

Anthony stepped into the ring, a small circle of chalk, and summoned a four-armed leopard-man. Across from him, the sandy-haired boy had whipped up a blue-metal android whose head was adorned with stag beetle antlers. A crowd had gathered around them, murmuring with excitement. It reminded Anthony of the children who would come watch him rumble against Munroe at Hillside Stage. A long time ago, he thought.

He made the first move, his leopard-man grabbing the horns of the beetle-bot with one pair of arms and attempting wrist control with the other pair. Each command fought to get grips on the other, their feet moving in measure steps and sliding occasionally on cobblestone grit.

Philip watched money exchange hands as spectators bet on winners, spittle flying out of their mouths. He frowned.

“Gambling? This is cockfighting.”

“Not even close, buddy.” A bearded man to his left patted him on the shoulder, “These aren’t real animals. A much better alternative, really. Hell, you should see what they do in Ocean Zone. Now those are rumbles. You gotta be an idiot to do what they do.”

“I don’t care what those fish-heads do, betting is foolish and should be regulated. Luck favors the well-planned man.”

The man stared at him with mock seriousness and chuckled. “Are you some kind of Borges? Do not be so quick to give up the right to act foolishly. You may soon lose the right to act any way at all.”

Philip blinked with sudden clarity. “I am no Borges. And you may be right, but this still makes me feel uncomfortable.”

“Who you callin’ a fish-head, you woodsy?” Hayley slapped his arm, “Don’t act like Munroe and Anthony never rumbled back in bumpkin-ass Mint Village.”

Philip grimaced. “That’s different.”

The man laughed heartily. “You’re one serious kid! Lighten up, boyo. Only a few days ago the Borges had us under their thumb. Now we are free and celebrating. Let us have a bit of fun.”

He pointed to the sandy-haired boy. “That there’s my son.”

“No way! Did you use to be an invoker as well?” Hayley asked.

“Sure did. Those were the days. Arced down when I was fourteen. Had to find me a real job.”

“What do you do now?”

“I’m a bookkeeper!” he beamed.

Hayley smiled back, but only with her mouth. “That’s nice.”

The beetle-bot’s antlers were becoming disadvantageous, acting as large levers that allowed Anthony’s leopard-man to drag it around. Stumbling, the metallic-blue humanoid fought for footing. The crowd murmured with excitement.

“C’mon, Anthony!” Hayley shouted, “Only good bug is a dead bug!”

“Anthony?” said the lady next to her, “Is that boy the Anthony I think he is?”

Hayley cocked an eyebrow. “Uh, that depends. Who do you think he is?”

“Well,” the lady clucked, “I heard of an invoker named Anthony who stopped a rogue colossus in Lanaya by cutting its head off!”

“I heard,” another woman blurted, “that he blew up a Borges prison!”

“I heard he whooped on two whole Spectre Squadrons!”

“I heard,” said a young girl dreamily, “that he is going to free all of Atos.”

“Ah,” said Hayley, “that Anthony. Yes it’s him. Best invoker in the land.”

“Hayley,” Philip pulled her aside urgently, “quit telling people who he is. We don’t want them to know!”

“Yea we do,” Hayley said, “we’re in a free town. Everyone here hates the Borges, and we need to give ’em a reason to like us. Maybe we can get some food and spikes out of it, and then we’ll be on our merry way, you got it?”

She shook him off and turned back to the fight. “Let’s go, Anthony!”

The beetle-bot had broken its antlers free of the leopard-man’s grasp and locked the upper body of the leopard-man in a ferocious bite, pinning the top set of arms to its side. With those arms negated, the tide had turned in the sandy-haired kid’s favor. Anthony was sweating fiercely. His command misstepped and the beetle-bot grabbed both of its legs and pulled it down. The leopard-man tumbled to the ground and the beetle-bot rumbled a victorious metallic noise. The crowd cheered for its hometown hero.

“Guess that boy ain’t nothing special,” the lady next to Hayley sniffed.

“The tales were perhaps falsified,” the other woman added.

“Get outta here,” Hayley snarled, “you vainglorious puffins. Come back when your boy can make colossi and then we’ll talk.”

She went up to Anthony, who was rubbing his forehead. Philip was already there, helping him up.

“What happened, man?” she asked, “are you okay?”

“I…I couldn’t keep a hold on it. I got tired. Very tired. My command grew weak because of it.”

He looked up at Philip worriedly. “I think I’m losing my powers.”

Philip didn’t say anything out loud, but his face said I know. I have known.

“Don’t worry about it, Anthony,” he sympathized, “you win some days, you lose some days. It has very little to do with your ability.”

“Yea,” Hayley agreed. “Every loss is a learning experience. You come away with something every time.”

“Well, I learned that I’m getting weaker.” Anthony muttered.

“Oh, get up. I’ll get you a pie, crybaby. Who wants to buy the hero of Atos one of Dante’s famous pies?” she shouted to the crowd.

#

The fire had gone out in their dormitory, and the room was dark. Hayley peered through the window before sliding it up noiselessly. She slipped through, quiet as a cat. Anthony tumbled through loudly, caught his foot on the sill and fell. Hayley clapped a hand to her face and groaned inwardly.

“Ow, I got a splinter. Oooh, that stings.” Anthony stuck his finger in his mouth.

“Where have y’all been?” Darius asked quietly, making them jump. He stood up from his chair, looming out of the darkness.

“Out.” Hayley said, matching his gaze, not missing a beat.

“I told y’all not to leave.”

“No you didn’t. You said to bunker down for the night.”

“It was implied.”

“Forgive us,” she said thickly, “we are but children and know not what we do.”

“C’mon, Darius,” Philip implored, “cut us a break. We’ve been through so much and now is the first time we all can walk in the streets without looking over our shoulder. Surely that counts for something.”

Darius crossed his arms across his chest. “Constant vigilance is requisite under my command.”

Hayley stepped right into his face, her nose nearly touching his. “We are not under your command.”

Philip nodded. “Yes, Darius, we’ve said it many times. We will gladly work alongside you, but not under you.”

“We? You mean me, right?” Anthony scowled at Philip, but pointed at Darius. “I know what you want out of me, Darius.”

Darius sighed and rubbed his eyebrows with two fingers. “The OZM effort could really benefit from an invoker of your ability, Anthony.”

“Yea, well, I’m no weapon. You can’t force me to work with you!”

Darius fell silent. The moonlight streaming from the window fell across his face, and his eyes looked sadly from Anthony to Philip.

Philip knew. He moved to shield Anthony with his body, as if it would help. “Darius, don’t you even think about doing that to him.”

“Doing what?” Anthony asked.

“I am…obligated,” said Darius, his hands trembling as he rubbed them across his face tiredly.

“You are not! That is unfair to him!”

“Him? Me? What’s unfair to me?!”

“This is bigger than jus’ him! It’s bigger than alla us!” Darius swept his arms dramatically, his shoulders heaving with his breath. “The freedom of many depends upon him!”

Hayley gasped as it dawned on her. “You’re going to blackmail him. You’re going to keep his mother from him unless he fights for you!”

Darius sat back in his chair, the guilty feeling he had been holding back somewhat relieved. “Anthony, I didn’t want ta do this—”

“You can’t.” Anthony said, in a voice hardly louder than a whisper. It still cut knife-like across the dark room, completely dismantling Darius. “You were my father’s friend. You fought alongside him. I trusted you!”

In the darkness Anthony seemed to be giving off a faint ethereal blue and red glow.

“Tell me where Ma is.”

Darius stared somberly at him, through him, past him. The chair he was sitting in creaked.

Tell me. Where. MY MOTHER. IS.” A red, hoofed beast with goat horns began to rise out of the floor. Two militiamen burst through the door. They were aiming guns that appeared very similar to Spectre Men railguns, but glowed green instead of purple. They flanked Darius and aimed their weapons at Anthony.

“Get down!” one of them ordered. It was the one who had been whittling at the end of the hall. The devil-beast stopped mid-summon, trapped confusedly in half a body. Anthony paused, unsure whether to attack professed allies or let them shoot him. It didn’t matter, for Ikoa had come in and knocked both of the guardsmen heads together.

“I could not help but overhear,” he apologized. He turned to Darius, one man to another, and frowned. “What you do does not befit one in your position.”

The devil-beast disappeared. Anthony rushed forward to Darius but Philip held him back.

“Where’s my MOTHER, DARIUS?” he screamed. He struggled in Philip’s grasp for a few seconds before fizzling out.

Darius looked sadly at him. “Back in Mint Village, did ya ever seen us cut down a tree?”

“Yes, all the time. What is this, a trick question? We’re a logging town for crying out loud.”

“Suppose yer cutting a tree and it’s right about ta come crashing down. While it teeters there for a moment ya notice your Ma is right in the path of where it’s gonna fall. Ya would give it that one push ta make it fall in another direction, right?”

“Yes, of course, what of it?”

“Well suppose when you push it, the direction it falls in makes it so the tree is gonna land on a house filled with ten other people. Good, innocent people. Would ya still push it?”

Anthony was silent. Darius reached across and held his hand.

“What would ya have me do, kid?”

Ikoa snorted. “He is a child who has never held a blade. He cannot answer.”

Darius eyed the large warrior. “There is more ta war than swinging a weapon like a savage.”

“Certainly. But walk into battle without one and tell me how that goes.”

“Quit arguing,” Anthony stomped on the floor, “where is my mother?”

Darius rubbed his temples with two fingers again. He was tired, mentally and physically beat. “She is in New Haven at Fort Wu Wei. It is OZM territory and completely safe.”

Hayley was already packing, strapping on her weapons and tightening her armored jacket. Ikoa stuck his axes in his belt. Philip pulled some books off the shelf and stuffed them in his backpack.

“I already sent word ta the defenses at Free Crossing that ya would help them.” Darius said soberly.

“You shouldn’t have.”

Anthony summoned a colossus to help them out the window. Ikoa exited first, then Hayley, then Philip. Anthony turned back to Darius, one foot over the sill and on the colossus’ massive hand.

“I am not a weapon.”

“I know, Anthony. I shouldn’t have done this t’ya, it’s too much for a kid.”

Anthony’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight. He hefted his other foot over the sill, prepared to leave. He thought of something and poked his head back in the window.

“I could make a tree fall in a million different directions, couldn’t I?”

“I suppose ya could,” Darius smiled tiredly, “I will find another way.”

Anthony grinned, and was gone.

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