On the Verge (A Charmed Life Book 1) (22 page)

“
Nameless
!” she cried in exasperation.  “
What
did you do to my
plants
?!”

Nameless was curled up on Tracy's soiled pillow as she came into her bedroom, licking at his quite-clean paws.  He looked up with a completely innocent expression on his face.  Tracy shook her finger at him.  “Don't give me that look,” she scolded.  “You're the only cat in here.”

Satisfied that there weren't going to be newly appearing paw prints, Tracy went to assess the damage.  Though the paw prints went near several of the plants, Tracy couldn't find any actual damage or paw prints in the soil of the pots themselves – no obvious source of the footprints.  Nameless followed her along curiously, peering into the pots along with her.  Tracy gave him a suspicious look.

Finally, sighing at the phantom damage, she settled with the knowledge that her plants at least looked all right, and went to fill a bucket with warm, soapy water so she could clean up the trail of paw prints.  She got down on her hands and knees and carefully started soaking, then patting down the carpet, careful not to grind the surface dirt in deeper.  It was slow work, and before long, her hands were starting to ache from resting on them.  She sat back, sighing, and wrung her hands, massaging first at her left, then at her right, groaning and looking at the long row of footprints.

“Wait a minute.”  She lifted her hand over the bucket of soapy water and gathered her mind.  Despite feeling calm and half-rested, the magic responded sluggishly to her call, and she could feel that distant ache in her head that had been developing over the long evenings of practice.  Still, the magic responded to her need, and her breath misted out of her lips.  She had to remember to ask Jacob why she had an indicator that she was using magic and no one else did.  And hope the answer wasn't yet another iteration of “we don't know.”

Her hand started tracing slow circles in the air, and the water in the bucket responded by swirling until it matched the speed of her hand.  She lifted her hand, and a tendril of water came up from the bucket, a sphere balanced on top of it.  She reached out her hand and picked the ball of water out of the air, letting the tendril slide back down into the bucket.  She turned the spinning, watery ball over, watching the ripples over the surface.  In all the practice and work, yelling and failure, and frustration, and the need to get ready for the fight, she'd rarely gotten to really delight in using her new magical powers, but in this quiet moment, she felt a new sense of wonder.  She hoped she would never lose that sense of wonder and just take this for granted.

She used her other hand to encourage the spin of that sphere, making it whirl faster and faster, the orb flattening just a little as the water tried to escape around the middle.  The bubbles formed spirals and rings inside the soapy orb, whirling in tiny little galaxies within.  Turning her hand over, she pressed the sphere into the carpet, and moved it along the path of the paw prints.

The paw prints didn't instantly disappear, but the orb darkened as it picked up dirt from the carpet, leaving behind fainter stains that could no longer quite be identified as paw prints.  Tracy considered it, then lifted the watery orb up and circled her finger in the opposite direction, making different parts of the sphere spin in different directions, creating a chaotic, multi-spiraled mass of whirlpools and ridges along the sphere.  “My life's turning into a kid's cartoon,” she commented to Nameless in amusement, then lowered the sphere to the rug again to run it slowly along the trail once more.

The dirt, assaulted from every different direction by the chaotic waters, quickly gave up and was sucked into the sphere.  The strip of the rug actually looked cleaner than the surrounding carpet, lighter and fluffier.  “I'll be,” Tracy murmured appreciatively.  “This is better than a rug doctor.  It's not even damp!”

The task went much faster after that, and she had to replace the water twice  The accumulated dirt not just from the paw prints, but also from years of feet grinding dirt deep  into the fibers of the carpet, grit which could never be cleaned out merely through vacuuming, was turning into a disgusting sludge on the bottom of her bucket.  She needed to get rid of it just to make herself cringe less.  She'd draw all the water out until she was directing an only slightly dirty stream down the drain and leaving a dry, caked mixture of dirt, soap, and stuff she didn't even want to think of at the bottom of the bucket, which she promptly scraped out into the trash.  Finally, every last paw print was gone, and there was a lighter-colored streak of clean carpet trailing around the apartment.  The majority of the job had taken as much time as the first eight feet had.

“Well,” she murmured to herself, quite pleased with the result, “I can see I'm going to have to take some weekend and do this to the whole apartment.”

Nameless mewed softly at her.

“No,” Tracy responded, mock scolding.  “That doesn't mean you're off the hook.” Then she smiled, gathered up Nameless into her arms, and tickled at his ears in just the way that she knew the cat liked it.  She settled comfortably onto the couch as Nameless purred, his warm body vibrating against her as she relaxed.

It was incredibly tempting to just give into the exhaustion and fall asleep right there, but she had a phone call to make.  Groaning softly at having to move, she nudged Nameless off her lap and got to her feet, crossing the apartment to fetch her phone and hunt around for Slate's card.  Once she had it, the nervousness she'd confessed today came back even stronger. 

Sure, Nick had given her his card, but she hadn't acted very nicely towards them.  And here she was only wanting to call because she wanted something from him.  He had been calm and understanding, but she'd barely met him.

Then again, she'd barely met Jacob, either, and she was putting her trust in him.  She'd gotten into a fight just to help him.  But then, he'd also stepped into a fight to try to help her, first.  That sort of thing tends to make one trust someone.  But he'd just been tracking a new charm to try to... Argh.  She couldn't sort it all out.

She plugged in the numbers and waited.

"Hello?" said a man's voice.  It wasn't Slate's voice.

"Hello?" Tracy said.  "This is... uh... I'm looking for... "  Blast, what was his name.  "Nick?"

"Who is this?"

Tracy paused a moment.  What kind of game was this?  "This is Tracy.  We met the other day."

"Ah, yes, you're on the list.  I'll get him.  Please hold."

Now she recognized the voice - one of the men who was with Slate.  She hadn't gotten his name.  This wasn't some game or secret ops thing.  He was just a secretary answering a private line.

In a couple of minutes, Slate was on the phone.  "Hello, Rose Marble.  I'm glad to hear from you!"  He actually did sound happy.

Tracy gritted her teeth a little at the presumption with her name... but she couldn't really complain as she couldn't keep his real name straight either.  And as she was asking for something.  "Hello, Slate.  I hope this isn't a bad time?"

"Not at all, Tracy, what can I do for you?"

Tracy cringed inwardly, and had to force out her next words.  "Funny you should word it that way … I need a favor.”

Tracy waited in the same gym where she'd first met Slate, fighting down nervousness.  They were supposed to meet five minutes ago.  Was this the same gym?  For all Tracy knew, there were twenty identical gyms all around the building.  But it had the right number on the door.  Didn't it?  Had she heard him wrong?

Her phone was in her gym bag, but she refrained from calling to make sure.  She was imposing on them; they didn't have to be here.

What if they weren't going to be here?  What if this was some sort of roundabout revenge on Jacob for however it was he'd insulted them?  Leave her sitting here half the night waiting, wasting time she could be spending in practice...

To calm her nerves, she started into the steps of her Tai Chi, moving from one form to the next, focusing on the movements and her breathing.  It felt a little odd, practicing in a strange place like this, but she soon forgot her self-consciousness in the familiar flow and step.

After several times through those forms, she shifted into some of the Aikido katas, starting at the most basic and working her way up the list.  She hadn't really had to think about the moves of these katas for a very, very long time, but now she was very aware of them, as her mind studied them for clues on how to apply the basic premise of Aikido to the magic she now possessed.  Redirect.  Get in close.  Pin.  Most other martial arts tended to keep opponents at arm's length – but of the grappling arts, Aikido was the most focused towards getting and staying close, pinning your opponent until they could not fight without hurting themselves.  Or, her private musings suggested, until they could not ignore the harm that fighting did, even to themselves.  The way she interpreted Aikido was to have compassion even for your enemy.  How could her magic show compassion to her enemy?

“Very pretty,” said Tyra, “But how long is it gonna take y'all t'finish?”

Tracy jumped in surprise.  She was so used to her classmates coming in while she was going through the katas that she hadn't even noticed when Tyra had come in.  She quickly came to rest and started to bow in greeting, before realizing that Tyra wasn't someone she was supposed to bow to.  She froze halfway into the bow, momentarily indecisive, then straightened up quickly, biting her lower lip with a sheepish smile.  “Sorry,” she said, letting her lip go.  “Sorry, sorry,” she apologized.  “I didn't hear you come in, I didn't realize you were there!”

“S'all right, shug.  It was pretty.  Ah was stretching.  That some sorta Tie-kon-du or somethin'?”

“Aikido.”

“Ah.  What's th' difference?”

“Um.  Taekwondo specializes in kicks and punches.  Aikido specializes in grapples, pins, and pressure points.  Taekwondo is offensive; Aikido is defensive.”

“Felt kinda offensive earlier.”

“You started -” Tracy began, then cut herself off.  She was asking for their help, and Tyra was smirking at her.  Trying to get a rise out of her.  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Right.  So.  When is Nick going to be here?”

“Nick?  Naw, he's a busy guy.  Yer a newb.  Y'all got me, sugar cookie.”

“Oh.  I thought - I mean, Jacob said … that he was the one who could help me?”

“And he's helpin' y'all by sendin' me.  What's yer dif' in getting' it?”

“Um.  Sorry.  That'll do nicely.  What did he tell you?”

“Just that you needed help getting ready to fight that metal jerk, Anthony.  Such a tool.”

“Right.  How does earth beat metal?  I mean, he's got a metal wolf … and metal is immune to pain... how do … “

“Don't worry about th' wolf.  Don' worry 'bout th' fight.  We start with me.”

Tyra shrugged out of her jacket and dumped it to the side, then dropped her sweatpants on top of it.  Underneath, she was wearing a pair of black lycra shorts and a bright green sports bra.  Tracy wasn't exactly self-conscious about how she looked.  She knew she wasn't all that special - kinda pretty, but her nose was too big.  Tyra, though, made Tracy feel inadequate.  Powerful, healthy figure, without sacrificing a bit of femininity.  Exactly what they had in mind when they said 'statuesque beauty'.  Tracy wished she had that sort of build.  While Tracy watched in trepidation, Tyra took out some padded practice gloves.

Tracy swallowed.  So far, all her 'wins' against these folks had been by surprise.  No one had been expecting a fight.  Sure, Tracy was really good at practice sparring in Aikido, but those were all folks to whom it was just an activity.  These people fought for … what, exactly?  Honor?  Rank?  Life?  As a lifestyle?  It seemed a large part of things.  For power, she supposed.

As Tyra moved her gym bag to the side, her skin darkened to the obsidian stone.  Then she moved to heft the gym equipment to the sides of the room, lifting the several-hundred pound pieces of equipment – with the weights still on them – as if they were nothing.  Before long, there was a large, clear space in the center.  “Ready t' start?” she asked.

Tracy took a deep breath and stepped up to face Tyra.  “All right, then.  What am I going to do?”

Tyra stared at Tracy as if she was stupid.  “Yer gonna fight me.”  She threw a punch at Tracy without any further preamble.

Tracy stepped back and blocked instinctively.  She was used to people being stronger than her, but this was ridiculous – like trying to push a statue to the side.  She stumbled back, pushing herself away more than she pushed Tyra's fist aside.

Tyra glared at Tracy, faint grinding noises sounding as she moved towards her, like stones scraping against each other.  “Use yer stone.  C'mon, y'did it th' other day.”

Tracy nodded and held up a hand.  “Right, hold on a second.”  She looked down at the bracelet around her wrist, and concentrated on the earth charm there.  After a few moments, the pale grey with pink striping of the rose marble form started to spread across her arm.

Tyra's hand closed around her forearm, and magically strong fingers grabbed the bracelet and pulled it away.

“
Hey
!” Tracy cried, a blaze of rage suddenly coursing through her.  The earth charm had already disappeared, and the stone continued to spread across her arm, disappearing under her sleeve.  She could feel it spread further, knew that in a moment, her whole body was of that rose marble.  Tracy focused inwards to gather her strength together, then moved forward in a series of quick strikes, aimed towards taking her bracelet back.  She knew Tyra was just trying to get her angry, but it had worked, and Tyra's quick reflexes to keep the bracelet from her just made it worse.  It reminded her of being bullied in middle school, and she was a little embarrassed that all those old feelings came back so easily.

“Jacob ain't gon' train you proper.  He don' want t' hurt a pretty gal like you.  Tony ain't gon' give you time to get yerself ready.  An' Pax is gon' take every advantage.  Pax woulda already kicked yer ass.”

Tracy frowned.  Yes.  She was used to this.  She stopped responding to 'Tyra the bully' and started thinking of Tyra more in the sense of a teacher, like Grandmaster Lee.  She was trying to get Tracy ready for a real fight.  Not just a spar.  A fight.

Tracy thought about the things Jacob had taught her, and decided she was going about this all wrong.  Instead, she focused on her bracelet, on summoning it to her wrist just like she had the day when Craig had attacked Jacob.  She'd practiced it dozens of times with Jacob, and she knew she was doing it right, now, but nothing happened.

"What'd you do to it?" she asked, more curious than upset.

"What do y'mean?"

"I can't call it to my wrist."

Tyra smirked, rolling the charm bracelet in her obsidian fingers.  "Ain't gonna be able t'call it if someone else is holdin' it.  Has t'be left unattended."

Tracy stepped back, nodded, and held up her hand.  “Wait a moment.  This is only the second time I've turned to stone.”

Tyra stepped back and nodded.  “Get th' feel fer it,” she said.

Tracy flexed her arm, looked at her hand.  She felt … mostly normal.  A little stiff.  Remembering how easily Tyra had moved the machines around, Tracy stepped over to one and, gently at first, then with increasing force, started trying to lift it.  It wasn't nearly as easy as Tyra had made it look, but by straining mightily, she managed to start lifting one side of it up – and then, when she let it go, it thumped loudly in the room.  Tracy panted and looked up to Tyra in surprise.  “How'd... how'd you … lift that?”

Tyra smirked.  “If'n we weren't stone, an' ah lifted somethin' y'couldn't, would y'all be askin' that?”

Tracy nodded.  “Ah.  Works on … how strong you already are.  Thus why … working out.  Make the most of it.”  She sighed.  “So don't grapple with Anthony.”

Tyra smirked.  “Yeah, but he'll be usin' metal, not earth.  That ain't near so strong.  Just much tougher.  Wrestle all y'want.  But that's not now.  Now is me.  Y'got yer chance t'get used to it.  Time t'fight.”

Tracy grimaced, then nodded.  She glanced around, worried suddenly.  “Um, Tyra?  If we start throwing each other, aren't we going to knock over equipment or go through a wall or something?  Super strength … could make some simple moves go a lot further.”

Tyra nodded.  “Could.  Won't.  Come over here and fight.  Stop stalling.”

Tracy crossed opposite Tyra, letting the stone skin ease away.  Tyra still held Tracy's bracelet in her hand, and Tracy had an itch across her mind – just a faint one, but enough of one to make her realize why people would do anything to get their core rune back.  She fingered the little diamond-shaped charm that had reappeared in her hand.  “Is that why Sla- why Nick isn't here?  Because I'm a girl?  He wouldn't 'train me proper'?”

“Ain't you listen'?  It's 'cause he's important and busy, and you're not.  He'd have yeh flat down in no time.  Now stop askin' questions and fight!”  Without another word, Tyra dashed forward, crossing the few feet between them and throwing another punch.

Tracy had been waiting for that.  She clenched her fist around the charm, felt it dissolve under her fingers.  The stone came swiftly across her, this time.  She lightly brushed the blow aside, stepped inside Tyra's normal range, and attacked back.  Tyra turned aside, and Tracy's fist glanced off a solid abdomen that was probably rock hard without magic.  Tracy cried out in pain as Tyra yanked her backwards by her hair.  Her head was wrenched around, and the pain distracted her so she didn't even see the foot coming for her ankles, knocking her to the floor with a loud crash.  Then Tyra's foot was on her back, keeping her down.

“Now, 'bout that 'in pain on th' floor' club?” Tyra snarked wryly.

“That... that was dirty!  That was cheating!”

“This ain't yer fancy dojo!  This is a fight!  There ain't no rules 'gainst fightin' dirty!  Y'all only got a couple days, you better get that through yer head!”

Tyra got off of Tracy and offered a hand up.  Tracy ignored it and kippuped to her feet, but her weight and timing was off, and she found herself flipping forward to land on her face on the floor, once more.  It didn't hurt, it was just embarrassing.  “Um, that usually works.”

“Yeah, Ah imagine it does.  Take mah hand.”

Tracy took her hand, this time, and was pulled to her feet.

“Yer gonna have t'get used to yerself again, hon.  Y'only got a couple days left.  Take time t'practice movin' like this, or yer gonna make those mistakes in the circle.  But later.  Now we're fightin'.”

This time, Tracy didn't wait.  She held tighter to Tyra's hand, pulling Tyra towards her while throwing a punch with her other hand.  Tyra didn't resist the pull – she stepped into it, and used Tracy's pull to add to her own strength, stepping inside the blow so it glanced off the side of her head, and slammed her fist into Tracy's ribcage.  The breath wooshed out of Tracy's lungs and she was blasted off her feet, and only Tyra's hand clenched on hers stopped her from flying into the mirror behind her.  As it was, her shoulder wrenched as she hit the length of her arm, and she half-fell to the ground again.

“Better,” Tyra said proudly.  “Now yer gettin' it.”

Tracy didn't say anything, her stone body fading back to flesh as she curled around herself, trying desperately to suck air in with a spasming diaphragm that didn't want to work.  Her lungs wouldn't work, she couldn't catch more than half a gulp of air.  This wasn't a new sensation – she'd gotten the wind knocked out of her before, and she knew, logically, that in half a minute she'd be breathing fine once again.  All the same, the panic of not being able to breath coursed through her.

Mercifully, Tyra waited for her to recover herself.  And being able to breath again only meant she was able to focus on the pain in her shoulder.  “Ah... ow... Tyra, I… I won't be able to fight in a couple of days… if you take me apart now...”

“Oh, don't worry.  Ah'm not th' only help Nick sent.  He also sent his medic along.  He's jes' waitin' in th' other room jes now.  Ah ain't gotta hold back a'tall!”

Tracy blinked a few times, staring up at Tyra as the pain started to subside from her shoulder.  “Gee,” she murmured, “Thanks.  I think.”  It wasn't dislocated; it was just a little wrenched.  She'd have to be careful with it.  "I see how this is going.  All right, then.  Let's do this."  She put her hands together and gave a formal little bow, then struck a defensive stance.

Tyra looked like she was about to say something, but instead she looked appraisingly at Tracy.  Both of them were learning not to underestimate the other, Tracy decided.  During their first meeting, Tyra had underestimated Tracy.  After that all-too-easy surprise defeat, Tracy had underestimated Tyra.  They were both done with that now, and were viewing each other cautiously.