Read Five Odd Honors for Free Online Page A
Authors: Jane Lindskold
to a window. “Pearl and Riprap are slowing down. I bet they’ll be quitting soon. Why don’t we go out and use the patio?”
Ten minutes later found them out on the brick-surfaced patio beneath the shade of a ramada overgrown with grapevines heavy with several varieties of grapes.
Riprap was seated in one of the chairs in the shade, alternating between sipping from a tall tumbler of water and mopping sweat off his face.
“Pearl is in a mood,” he said. “Man, did she ever push—off-hand made no difference. If I’d closed my eyes, I would have thought I was fighting Flying Claw.”
Given that Flying Claw was in his early twenties and in perfect physical condition, this said a lot.
Nissa grinned. “If you’d closed your eyes while fighting either one of them, you’d have been flat on your butt, fellow. Now, Brenda and I came out here to practice. Are you going to let us get on with it?”
“I’ll just sit here in the shade, ma’am,” Riprap said, drawling his words like a cowboy in an old western, “and admire your technique.”
Brenda grimaced, but there was no sense in asking Riprap to leave. The man was not only their fellow student, but he had spent years as a coach. If he had anything to say about their technique, it would likely be useful. The two women ignored him, and took places across the patio from each other.
Brenda and Nissa had brought out an assortment of amulet bracelets. These resembled nothing so much as fourteen mah-jong tiles strung together with elastic into rather chunky bracelets.
Resemblance was deceptive. Unlike the jewelry they resembled, these tiles were made from polymer clay, each tile shaped by hand and carefully etched with the various symbols: bamboo, dots, characters, winds, and dragons. When created with appropriate concentration, the tiles stored within them a single spell that could be released upon the destruction of the bracelet.
There had been a time when Brenda, exhausted from the expenditure of both ch’i and concentration that went into each bracelet, had tried to envision willingly destroying her handiwork. That reluctance had vanished the first time one of those stored spells had intervened between her and danger. Now she broke the amulets willingly, and longed for the days when she could summon and direct ch’i without the need for an intermediary.
“Nissa,” Brenda began, “you said you wanted to work on getting your defenses up fast. Why don’t we start there?”
In reply, Nissa lightly touched her left wrist where an amulet bracelet rested.
“I’m waiting.”
Brenda reached behind her back and came out with a Japanese bokken, a sword-shaped piece of polished wood, that she had stuffed in her belt when Nissa wasn’t looking.
“You can’t wait,” Brenda said, drawing and coming at Nissa, the bokken upraised to strike.
Brenda had no skill with a sword, but the bokken was well balanced and felt natural in her hand. She’d had ample opportunity to watch real swordplay over the last couple of months, and came at Nissa as if she knew what she was doing.
Her act wouldn’t have fooled a real fencer, but it flustered Nissa. She fumbled at her wrist for the bracelet, but hadn’t slammed it down to summon the protective spell within before Brenda had brought the bokken against her waist.
Brenda pulled the stroke so that the polished wood only touched Nissa’s side.
“Damn!” Nissa swore softly. “That would have been right through me. Step back and come at me again.”
“Right.” Brenda skipped back several paces. Then, again without warning, she charged forward.
This time Nissa did much better. She hooked the amulet bracelet with the fingers of her right hand and threw it down hard against the bricks. The polymer clay tiles exploded into dust. Brenda felt the ch’i released into the surroundings. She didn’t pause, but continued her charge, bringing the “blade” of the bokken in at Nissa’s head.
Nissa ducked, but Brenda had
Ten minutes later found them out on the brick-surfaced patio beneath the shade of a ramada overgrown with grapevines heavy with several varieties of grapes.
Riprap was seated in one of the chairs in the shade, alternating between sipping from a tall tumbler of water and mopping sweat off his face.
“Pearl is in a mood,” he said. “Man, did she ever push—off-hand made no difference. If I’d closed my eyes, I would have thought I was fighting Flying Claw.”
Given that Flying Claw was in his early twenties and in perfect physical condition, this said a lot.
Nissa grinned. “If you’d closed your eyes while fighting either one of them, you’d have been flat on your butt, fellow. Now, Brenda and I came out here to practice. Are you going to let us get on with it?”
“I’ll just sit here in the shade, ma’am,” Riprap said, drawling his words like a cowboy in an old western, “and admire your technique.”
Brenda grimaced, but there was no sense in asking Riprap to leave. The man was not only their fellow student, but he had spent years as a coach. If he had anything to say about their technique, it would likely be useful. The two women ignored him, and took places across the patio from each other.
Brenda and Nissa had brought out an assortment of amulet bracelets. These resembled nothing so much as fourteen mah-jong tiles strung together with elastic into rather chunky bracelets.
Resemblance was deceptive. Unlike the jewelry they resembled, these tiles were made from polymer clay, each tile shaped by hand and carefully etched with the various symbols: bamboo, dots, characters, winds, and dragons. When created with appropriate concentration, the tiles stored within them a single spell that could be released upon the destruction of the bracelet.
There had been a time when Brenda, exhausted from the expenditure of both ch’i and concentration that went into each bracelet, had tried to envision willingly destroying her handiwork. That reluctance had vanished the first time one of those stored spells had intervened between her and danger. Now she broke the amulets willingly, and longed for the days when she could summon and direct ch’i without the need for an intermediary.
“Nissa,” Brenda began, “you said you wanted to work on getting your defenses up fast. Why don’t we start there?”
In reply, Nissa lightly touched her left wrist where an amulet bracelet rested.
“I’m waiting.”
Brenda reached behind her back and came out with a Japanese bokken, a sword-shaped piece of polished wood, that she had stuffed in her belt when Nissa wasn’t looking.
“You can’t wait,” Brenda said, drawing and coming at Nissa, the bokken upraised to strike.
Brenda had no skill with a sword, but the bokken was well balanced and felt natural in her hand. She’d had ample opportunity to watch real swordplay over the last couple of months, and came at Nissa as if she knew what she was doing.
Her act wouldn’t have fooled a real fencer, but it flustered Nissa. She fumbled at her wrist for the bracelet, but hadn’t slammed it down to summon the protective spell within before Brenda had brought the bokken against her waist.
Brenda pulled the stroke so that the polished wood only touched Nissa’s side.
“Damn!” Nissa swore softly. “That would have been right through me. Step back and come at me again.”
“Right.” Brenda skipped back several paces. Then, again without warning, she charged forward.
This time Nissa did much better. She hooked the amulet bracelet with the fingers of her right hand and threw it down hard against the bricks. The polymer clay tiles exploded into dust. Brenda felt the ch’i released into the surroundings. She didn’t pause, but continued her charge, bringing the “blade” of the bokken in at Nissa’s head.
Nissa ducked, but Brenda had