—Chapter 8—

—Arcana—

Kellan mouth-fished for words, unable to land anything. Then Mavis stepped around him, her head held high. “Aren’t you human?” She glanced between Nasir and the unnamed man. “Can you help us? Please.”

The bird-man flapped his wings a second time, his yellow eyes narrowed on Mavis. He said nothing, but Kellan suspected he was offended with being left out of Mavis’s plight. Perhaps he had once been human? Kellan had no idea how most fantasy creatures worked.

“They’re outsiders,” the unnamed man said, his attention never leaving Kellan. The single glowing machine eye constricted and dilated, like a freakish camera lens.

It unnerved Kellan, but he never allowed it to show on his face.

“I know they’re outsiders,” Nasir growled. “Outsiders are the easy pickins.” He motioned to Kellan. “You aren’t going to need that arcana. You’re not even gonna make it until the end of the week.” With a laugh, Nasir returned his gaze to Mavis. “So, maybe you two should help me… And not the other way around.”

“Kellan and I just want to get home,” Mavis said. “Is there some sort of arrangement we can make? Maybe you can take us to a portal? Or something similar? And we can give you whatever you want?”

Nasir snorted and then laughed once. He pulled a tin container from his pocket—something the size of his palm—and Kellan stepped around to Mavis’s side, fearing an attack. Instead, Nasir withdrew a black cigarette from the container and then lit it with a built-in lighter on the side of the tin.

He tucked it all away as he took a drag on his smoke.

To Kellan’s surprise, his eyes flashed with the same reticle of information.

Magical Item [Consumable]—Hane Cigarette

The mage gains +2 perception and mana recovery while the hane remains in the mage’s system. Highly addictive.

“What’re we doin’ with these two?” Kin asked. He scratched at where his wings were attached to his body. “We shouldn’t take too much time. We have to register for the games.”

“I want more arcana,” Nasir said as he exhaled a line of smoke. Then he eyes Kellan. “I can’t take you two home—that’s not in my power.” He cracked a smile, the smoke dangling on his lips. “You’re not gonna find anyone with that ability, either. It’s rare for a mage to have travel magic.”

“So, you can’t help us?” Mavis asked.

“No.”

“Then… we’ll just go.”

Nasir took another long drag on his smoke. “No. You won’t be doin’ that either. Either you hand over the arcana, or I’ll carve it out of you.” Nasir snapped his fingers and flashed Mavis a cruel smile. “But since you’re human and I’m human, I’ll make sure it’s as painless as possible, how does that sound?”

The bird-man laughed, Nasir chortled—but not the machine-eye-guy. He remained quiet and serious.

Kellan had already made deductions about the arcana. It was used as fuel or power, and it was obviously valuable. A random man was going to kill him for it. That was always the measure of something’s value—how much trouble was someone willing to endure in order to get it. And clearly Nasir would go through a lot.

But Kellan didn’t know how to give it away. And if he asked, he’d reveal his ignorance on the matter. Was that the best course of action?

“Well?” Nasir asked, his breath laced with smoke. “I’m not going to ask again.”

The motto of the US Special Forces was: De Oppresso Libe. It meant To Free the Oppressed. Kellan thought of it whenever someone tried to manipulate him through force and fear. It angered him more than normal.

“Let’s say I decided to give you my arcana,” Kellan said, trying to keep his voice neutral. “How would I do that?”

He couldn’t avoid asking. He had to know.

“Hold out your hand,” Nasir said, smiling. “And you can make them appear in your palm. Just hand over all your arcana, and we’ll graciously leave you alone.”

The machine-eyed-punk tightened his hands into fists. He seemed tenser than before, his whole body stiff. But Kellan didn’t know what to say to him.

Mavis glanced up at Kellan. For a brief moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. Mavis had a look of worry—perhaps she wanted him to submit?—but Kellan couldn’t bring himself to go down without a fight. He furrowed his brow, and she must’ve known his intentions.

Mavis stepped aside, her hands shaky.

“I’m not going to give you my arcana,” Kellan said.

Nasir exhaled a mouthful of smoke. “Oh? What’s that? But we’re both human, right? Shouldn’t you be helping me?” He chortled at his own sarcastic joke.

“I’m not just human.” Kellan offered the man his own snide smirk. “I’m the kind who knows how to kick ass.”

“What’s his problem?” Kin asked, his feathers ruffled.

Nasir laughed. “What’s it matter? He’s a dead man.”

Without warning, Nasir threw a punch. Kellan leaned back, dodging the blow. For some reason, the man’s hand was covered in a dark, shimmering energy. Although Kellan wasn’t sure what that meant, he could take an educated guess.

It was bad.

Nasir leapt forward, his hand outstretched. Kellan stepped to the side and tripped the man. It was a simple trick he had learned during his grappling classes—using the enemy’s momentum against them.

With a stumble, Nasir caught himself by grabbing onto the crumpled hood of the truck. Rust and rot spread from his fingertips, wasting the metal of the car away into fine dust.

The rot spread to the entire hood, slowly destroying everything.

Kellan caught his breath. What would he do against someone who could destroy a truck by simply touching it? A sudden realization struck Kellan—Nasir wasn’t going to “rough him up,” the man was aiming to kill him.

“Holy shit,” Mavis said as he stepped away, her attention glued to the destroyed truck.

Kellan held an arm out, trying to shield her from the rot-touch bastard. He hardened himself to the reality that he might not live after an attack like that. He grabbed his hoe off the ground, hating the fact he didn’t have his sidearm.

I don’t want to be in grappling range with this guy.

“Wait,” the machine-eyed punk said.

Nasir stepped away from the truck. He ran a hand over his bald head, and his tongue darted out to lick some of his lip piercings. “Why should I wait, Jace? These two are pissin’ me off.”

The unnamed man—now Jace—brought an unsteady hand up to his nose and pitched at the bridge. “You’re not going to believe this, but he’s Alex Kellan.”

Silence settled over the foggy parking lot. Then Nasir and Kin exchanged amused glances.

“It’s a coincidence,” Kin said. “Humans share names all the time. Parents name their children after themselves, like self-absorbed lunatics. This is just one Alex Kellan.”

“No.” Jace shook his head and then shot Kellan a hard glare. “It’s not a random Alex Kellan. He has the Descended of Zenith ability.”

The raven-man fluffed again, his beady eyes wide. Even Nasir seemed spooked, like this wasn’t the information he wanted to hear. He gave Kellan the once over, almost in disbelief. “No. Impossible. Him?”

“It has to be.” Jace shrugged. “That means he was probably brought here by someone intentionally. He’s not a standard outsider who we just stumbled across during the Conflux.”

The three of them exchanged knowing looks. Kellan didn’t like that. When he glanced at Mavis, she lifted an eyebrow, like he might know what was going on. Unfortunately, it seemed everyone knew more than he did. It was frustrating.

Nasir laughed, his smile wide, showing off his sharp canines. Even his morals seemed more pointed than normal. “Oh, this is amazing. I can’t believe it. These Nexus Games are gonna be brutal.” Nasir turned his attention to Kellan. “You’re entering the games, aren’t you? You have a team?”

Kellan didn’t know how to answer. Sen had said something about joining a team, but Kellan wasn’t excited to be a forced participant.

“I’ve got some friends,” Kellan said, at least trying to imply that perhaps he shouldn’t be messed with. “I take it the three of you are entering?” He held his hoe close, ready to strike at the man’s head like a piñata if he got any closer.

“We’re part of a team,” Jace said, his machine eyes still scanning Kellan. “We’ll see you in the games, most definitely.” Then he hesitated, holding his breath as he reached into his jean pockets. He withdrew a necklace. Kellan recognized them as dog tags.

US military dog tags.

“I apologize for Nasir’s behavior,” Jace muttered. He handed the dog tags over. “We didn’t know it was you when we approached. Take these and… Try to stay safe until you raise your rank a bit. Gather more arcana. Learn some useful magical skills. You’re way too weak to be walking around alone.”

Too weak?

Kellan gritted his teeth, irritated at the comment. Despite that, he liked Jace. He seemed different from the other two. With a quick motion, he grabbed the dog tags and shoved them in his pocket.

“Thank you,” he said.

Mavis pointed to Jace. “How do you know Kellan?”

Jace’s face reddened, and then he took a step backward. “No. I don’t know him.” He gestured to the edge of the parking lot. “C’mon, fools. We need to see the Arbiter before the registration closes down. Let’s go.”

Before anyone could offer any further commentary, the three biker thugs headed out of the parking lot. Nasir and Kin whispered the entire way, chuckling as they went, amused by their own commentary. Jace glanced over his shoulder several times, his brow furrowed.

On the back of their jackets was an elaborate coat of arms.

They had a sword, a handgun, and a manticore stitched into the leather jackets. The words, “Win, Conquer, Execute” were stitched underneath.

Once they were gone—so deep into the fog that Kellan couldn’t see them anymore—Mavis brushed off her pants. Only the smell of Nasir’s black cigarette lingered.

“What was that?” she asked.

Kellan shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently, people already know me. And they think I’m going to enter the Nexus Games.”

“What are the Nexus Games? Survivor or something? The Hunger Games?” She glared at him. “Are we going to have to kill each other? Because if we are, I’m out.”

“It’s a team competition,” Kellan muttered, his gaze drifting to the asphalt as he mulled over the new information. “Mages group together to do something and gain keys. The prize is worth killing for, at least according to the kid.”

“Keys?” Mavis crossed her arms and exhaled. “Okay. Well, the next question is—do we trust those guys? They said we wouldn’t be able to find a way back. Do we keep looking for one anyway?”

Can we trust them?

Kellan reached into his pocket and withdrew the dog tags. He turned them over until he could read the information. His heart stopped for a brief moment, his hands shaky.

The tags read:

Kellan, Alex

991-93-6789

O Pos

Catholic

The random biker punk had my dog tags? Kellan stared at them, his vision tunneling. He hadn’t really worn his tags since his time in the army. Once he had joined Delta Force, he hadn’t needed them anymore—he wasn’t supposed to wear anything that could easily identify him.

“Are those your tags?” Mavis whispered as she stared at the necklace.

Kellan only replied with a nod.

“He said he didn’t know you… But he had your tags?”

Jace had been the only one whose information had been completely concealed. And he had been the only one with friendly advice. Kellan was willing to bet Jace knew more than he had said, but was it worth chasing after them?

“That guy kinda looked like you,” Mavis muttered.

“No, he didn’t.” Kellan touched his own dark hair and thought back to Jace’s appearance. “He was scrawnier than me.”

“Less muscle, yeah. But otherwise…”

“What does it matter?”

Mavis shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we should team up with them?”

Kellan didn’t want to team up with men like Nasir.

He didn’t want to team up with a kid like Sen, either.

And he still didn’t know what he was going to do about the games in general. Would he really be forced to participate? Was it the only way home?

He put the dog tags on around his neck. He missed the feeling of them.

“I think we should just do what Jace suggested,” Kellan muttered. “Gather arcana and get stronger.” He glanced over at the ruined truck. “Laser beams, rotting touch… People have some powerful skills. We should have some, too.”

“We had to smash a Pestbyter to get arcana, apparently.” Mavis twirled some of her purple hair on a finger. “But it could’ve easily killed us. Maybe… We could find something easier?”

“Perhaps.”

Kellan hadn’t obtained the arcana until the machine stopped functioning. And Nasir wanted to take the arcana—by killing Kellan if necessary. Which meant acquiring arcana would likely be a violent affair from start to finish. Unless there were other ways to gather it? Kellan wished someone would just answer his questions.

“Ah! There you are!”

Kellan and Mavis turned on their heels. The fog at the edge of the parking lot swirled again. This time, Husker and Sen emerged from the mist. It was easy to identify them. Sen was short and dragging his robes behind him like a child dressed up as their parents. And Husker was a hulking werewolf with a heavy cloak and hood.

They were the oddest of all odd couples.

Sen hurried forward, his giant ruined robes billowing outward. “What kind of fool are you?” He glowered—his child-like face scrunched in irritation. “I’ll find you no matter where you go. My Tyranny Worms connect us. Now get over here, warrior. You’ll serve me with no further incident, or else.”