The Guardian (Coranite Chronicles) (11 page)

Kite laughed. “What’s wrong? Homophobic? You’ll get over it once we’re inside.”

Berik sighed and slowly descended into the small escape pod. Kite looked down into the compartment and, after seeing that Berik was content with his position, was about to crawl inside as well. But he stopped. There was a sharp tug on his foot. Thinking he had gotten his ankle caught in a wire, he wriggled his leg about. However, he couldn’t break free. Exasperated, Kite turned back to see what was snagging his foot. It was a hand.

Kite wondered, “What do we have here? Another Cyzom?”

“That’s impossible. We did not come to the bridge.” Vincent scurried over to get a good look. “This man is alive.”

“A survivor?” Out of concern, Kite went to inspect the person that was lying on the ground. He turned the man over and recognized the injured soldier. Then, Kite’s lips broke into a grin. “It’s the commodore! He’s alive! I don’t believe it!”

Berik poked his head out of the hatchway. He did not look pleased. “Oh great, don’t tell me we have to bring him along too.”

Kite scowled in disapproval. “Shut up and give me a hand, good-for-nothing rookie.”

Berik got out of the pod and grumbled, “I was just kidding…mostly.”

CHAPTER 7

Great Sky Race

Kyrie arrived at the racetrack early next morning. She decided to stop by the practice course and check up on the competition. While she was watching the riders go up and down the course, she noticed Darek was still practicing.

She waved to him. Darek flew down to meet her.

“You’re up early,” said Kyrie.

“Up early?” Darek looked at the sky. The sun was rising. “Are the days short here?”

Kyrie stared blankly. “Actually, it’s about three hours longer than a Federation day. Did you not sleep?”

Darek shook his head. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“You looked tired,” said Kyrie. “Maybe you should rest.”

“No, it’s okay,” said Darek. “I took a few naps throughout the night.”

“That’s not okay. You need sleep.”

“Whatever,” said Darek. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m fine,” Darek insisted. “I know my limits.”

“Darek, it’s a dangerous race. You could get hurt or worse—”

“I can handle it,” he snapped. “And don’t tell Slade I didn’t sleep. I don’t want him worried for nothing.”

Kyrie nodded slowly. Darek sat down to rest. He opened up a bottle of water and began gulping it down.

Slade approached them. “Are you guys ready? The registration is open. And the prelims should be starting soon.”

Kyrie said, “Well…I don’t think Darek’s quite ready.”

Darek spit out his drink. “Hey! I told you not to tell him.”

“What’s this all about?” asked Slade.

“It’s nothing—” Darek began.

Kyrie told Slade, “Darek has been practicing the entire time. He didn’t even sleep.”

“What?” Slade turned to Darek. “Darek, you didn’t sleep at all?”

“I took naps,” said Darek. “Don’t worry. I feel fine. It’s not going to be a problem.”

Slade said, “Darek, I know you want to help. But, even though you needed the practice, rest is important. You need to be alert out there. You’re going to need all the strength and energy you can get.”

“I’m fine,” said Darek. “Trust me. You’ve been training me for a while now. Have I ever done something stupid?”

“Honestly,” Slade said, “if you had a title it’d be ‘The Master of Stupid.’”

“But still,” said Darek, “nothing bad has ever happened, right? The race is being held once a week. We can’t wait another week! Just let me race. I promise that if I really feel tired or weak, I’ll drop out.”

Slade studied Darek. “You’re absolutely sure you want to do this?”

Darek nodded enthusiastically.

“I won’t stop you,” said Slade. “But keep in mind: We lost three Judges yesterday. I don’t want to lose another one. From what Kyrie has told me, this race isn’t a simple race. You’ll need to be extra careful.”

The three of them registered for the tournament. Without wasting any time, they jumped into the preliminaries. There were ten smaller tracks that were used for the prelims. Darek rode slowly over to the starting line of the third track and stood next to three other racers. Then, trying to focus and relax, he studied the special gloves he wore on his hands. These gloves were designed for hover board riding. If he clenched his right hand, he would accelerate, but if he clenched his left, he’d rapidly decelerate. He swallowed loudly as he watched the hovering screen pass over the contestants; the screen displayed a counter.

Three…two…one…GO!

Reacting almost instantly, Darek clenched his right hand as hard as he could.
Vroom!
The fierce roaring of the engine startled him. He closed his eyes automatically. Then he forced his eyes open and saw the ring-like checkpoint ahead. He pushed forward and zipped through the opening.

This first race wasn’t very complex. It consisted of three checkpoints on a short winding track no longer than a mile. With the speed of the hover boards, completing the race felt as fast as the blink of an eye.

Though fast and simple, it was not easy. The winding was incredibly sharp. There was no room for mistakes. And only ones who’d be moving onto the main race were those who got the fastest times in this race. You had to be perfect
and
fast. It sounded impossible.

Once he crossed the finish line, he panted for air. The race was over. He tucked the board under his arm and ran to meet Slade and Kyrie.

On the way, a voice came over the loudspeaker: “Please check the rankings in front of you. If your rank is between one and twelve, you will be allowed to participate in the final race. The final race will begin in twenty minutes. You may use this time to rest.”

Gates opened up along the walls and poured out several hovering computer screens. These computer screens went around the large platform, going to all the racers in order to show them their ranking.

One of these computer screens hovered before Darek. Darek glanced at Kyrie with a fearful look. He was too afraid to see the screen. Kyrie checked it for him.

Kyrie read the rankings for all of them, “Slade is ranked twenty-five. I’m ranked fourteen. Darek is ranked…twelve.”

“Twelve?” Darek shrieked. “Does that mean I’m in?”

Kyrie grinned. “It was close. You managed to be a millisecond faster than the thirteenth place. And to think I was worried. You even beat me.”

Slade frowned. “Sorry, Darek. I even said we’d be in this together, but it looks like you’re going in alone.”

Darek nodded. It was all up to him. He rested on a bench for ten minutes. Then he flew toward the starting line for the final race. The thoughts of possible failure were haunting him. He was now wishing he had been a millisecond or two slower. If he hadn’t made it, he could have just shrugged it off and been on equal ground with the others. But now the expectations of the others were raised; all the hopes of his friends were placed on him. The burden felt heavier than before.

The starting point for the final race was different from the preliminaries. He was on the main track now. And this track was huge. The scope was larger than he could imagine.

The course stretched all the way from this massive tree to another, which he guessed was about thirty miles away. The track itself was a black semicircular structure, padded with a soft rubbery material. It was not one simple, straight track. There were rolls, loops, dives, spins, twist and turns, and oddities such as tubes filled with water. There were also plenty of strange machines hovering above and below the course. He wondered what those mechanical devices were for, but he was sure he’d find out soon enough.

The starting point was a giant wheel shaped like the cylinder of a revolver, except it had twelve open chambers, presumably one for each racer. It was an interesting setup that provided all racers an equal amount of distance to where the track actually began. Upon hearing the horn blow, he flew up to one of the top two chambers and settled down.

While waiting for the race to start, he glanced back at the platform. Everyone was gone. They had all gone beneath the platform. Since it would be impossible for spectators to watch the race from stands, a gargantuan theatre was built underneath the platform; all of the spectators could sit inside the comfort of the theatre and watch the action unfold as cameras circled the racetrack.

Without a cheering audience, the race was looking to be uncomfortably lonely. He knew his friends would be supporting him from wherever they were. But now, because of the way this race was set up, he could not hear their cries of support.

The place became eerily quiet. A chill ran down his spine. He positioned himself near the large opening of the chamber and crouched down. The race was about to begin.

A voice boomed, “On your mark…get set…GO!”

Darek shot out of the chamber like a fired bullet and zoomed toward the first checkpoint that marked the beginning of the actual track. His eyes wandered about. He unconsciously looked at the other eleven contestants that were now scrambling to reach the checkpoint. It was only the beginning of the race and everyone was already fighting to get ahead.

Before they began, Darek had believed he only needed to keep his focus on the track. That was a miscalculation. A mere ten seconds into the race and a hover board was flying into his face. He ducked. A gust of air scraped across his back. Darek glared at the person who tried to run him over, but the racer merely shrugged and smiled.

Darek’s immediate thought was to get revenge. No one gets away with trying to whack him over the head. Except it was easier said than done. As he contemplated how to get back at his opponent, all the other racers managed to get ahead of him. Their burst of speed boggled his mind. Everyone was going full throttle!

Darek clenched his right hand, revving the engine. He accelerated sharply and tailed the others. He followed them onto the track, trying his best to keep up. Harsh winds beat rapidly across his face, rippling his cheeks. This was no longer a matter of simply winning or losing. This was a matter of life and death too.

The first part of the race was truly like a roller coaster, except for the fact that he wasn’t so much riding as he was driving. Eyes widening, Darek focused on staying alive. At this point, all the disappointment about the screaming crowd had vanished. How would anyone be able to hear anything at this speed? It sounded like a hurricane was making its way inside his inner ear and drilling into his mind.

With every loop, his stomach lurched upward. With every turn, his heart was ready to jump out of his mouth. With every dive, he envisioned his body going splat against the ground. Maybe with more practice, he decided, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But he was going into this race completely without understanding of the intricacies of the track.

He squinted his eyes. Something was coming. No, it wasn’t an obstacle. It was something else. It was a person. It was a racer that was abruptly falling towards him while in a loop. Was this foul play? Was someone trying to knock him out of the competition for good? Steering out of the way wasn’t a simple task. The person was coming in too fast.

Darek twisted his body sideways. The person missed him by a hair. Darek quickly glanced back, thinking that the racer might be coming from behind to finish him off. But one look had made Darek realize he was wrong. The man wasn’t an attacker. He was a victim. That person’s face was bloodied up. He was simply falling out of control.

After witnessing that troubling scene, staying behind didn’t seem like such a bad idea. These competitors weren’t aiming to be the fastest. They were aiming to eliminate the competition.

Darek barely managed to survive the first part. There was no time for him to relax. He took a deep breath and flew into a dark tunnel, where all the other racers had disappeared. This section reminded him of the flight through the storm clouds. It was fairly dark; flashes of light lit the way every now and then. It felt tricky. But since he was dead last, he was able to catch glimpses of the other racers and the paths they took, and use that as a guide.

How much longer will this take?
Darek was worried. His only hope of making it through the unknown racecourse was to follow the other racers. However, the amount of concentration was taking its toll. His mind was getting groggy. A rough headache throbbed through his temples and down the back of his neck. A nauseating feeling was trapped in his gut. Darek felt sick, and the constant motion wasn’t helping.

I got to keep it together.
He shook his head vigorously. One last flash of light and he was back in the open air. He stared into the distance, determining what lay ahead. He passed the next checkpoint with an uneasy feeling, as the sight of the next section was burned into his memory.

One after the other, the racers dove head first into a large U-shaped tube full of water. The tube was clear, so Darek could see the others struggling to swim across. Now, this was getting ridiculous. He wasn’t sure how swimming could be part of a hover board race, but it was. Reluctantly, he held his breath and dove into the tube as well.

Darek was surprised. The water was rather warm and inviting. He drifted about calmly, forgetting all his worries. The pulsating current soothed his skin, healing the aches and pains brought by the fierce winds. It seemed to wash his stress away—for only a moment.
That was a close one!
Darek thought. Lulled by the comfort, he had almost lost the motivation to continue. Darek began swimming furiously.

Though he paddled his hands as hard as he could, the board on his feet restrained his movement. He couldn’t imagine how the others managed to swim with their boards on, but there was no way he’d be able to escape the tube with it attached.

Darek stooped over and untied the shackles. With one arm holding fast to the board, he swam diligently, hoping to make it out of the water in time.

The U-shaped tube had many escape hatches along the walls in case the contestants could not handle the arduous task of continuing through this contraption. But Darek was determined to make it through.

That determination was wavering. The hover board wasn’t buoyant and only served to drag him down. The added weight forced him to crawl along the handles of the hatches rather than swim straight around the bend. He could see the exit above him. However, he had already held his breath for far too long. In spite of only a few feet left to climb, he was desperately seeking a gasp of air. He had wasted too much time at the beginning of this torturous tube. While he persuaded himself to keep going up, his eyes gravitated to the hatches. His lungs were screaming within, screaming for any ounce of air to seep in. An involuntary jerk would spasm in his chest, as though his body was seeking to forcibly open his lungs. For every moment he pressed on, the hatches served as a constant reminder to give up.

It was easy. All he needed to do was open the hatch. Then he’d be free. He would be able to breath. He would be able to live. His hand slowly gripped the handlebar and yanked on it.
NO! I have to keep going!
 
He released the handle and clambered up again, his vision darkening. His movement was getting sluggish. Just a little bit more. Just a little bit more. Then a gentle touch of air brushed the tip of his nostril.

He made it.

Splashing the surface, Darek poked his head out and gasped uncontrollably. He shook his head and brushed his hand over his face to wipe off the water. His body was telling him to rest, but his mind was telling him to go. The other racers were already long gone. He had little chance of winning to begin with, but wasting precious time here would surely put the final nail in the coffin.

Darek hastily strapped the hover board back on and set off again. He had a clear view of the checkpoint that was in a middle of an area full of strange contraptions. It was finally time to find out what those things were. As he approached the mysterious devices, he studied them with scrutiny. Mines? Would they really be that cruel to create a hovering minefield in the middle of a racecourse?

They could be that cruel. That tube of water already showed some semblance of cruelty. He had to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. If they were mines, he could either take it nice and slow in order to stay at a safe distance, or he could drive straight through so they wouldn’t even be able to catch up.

Straight through, he decided, was the only way to catch up to the others.

Darek cranked up the acceleration to full. He decided to ignore the objects and pursue the racers ahead. His plan didn’t quite work out.

A sharp pull came from below, nearly taking him off the course. It jerked him off balance. With quick reflexes, Darek was able to steer right back up.

“What was that?” he exclaimed, breathing heavily. “A snare?” He looked below and saw nothing out of the ordinary. There was nothing that managed to latch itself onto his board.

Staring downward, he was soon caught off guard by another pull; this time it was hauling him up. Darek vehemently regained his course. Exasperated by the sudden pulls, he wondered what was going on. Was there some kind of invisible net? And then it dawned on him. Those contraptions were gravity destabilizers. Gravity was being distorted all around him. Knowing this did not help him. He was at the mercy of these random gravitational pulls that were dragging him left and right, and up and down.

His only solution, if he could call it that, was to wait carefully for the pull then steer full force in the opposite direction to negate the effect. It worked fine for the most part, except for the inevitable strain on the board’s engine. Darek thought for a second about how silly he must look while struggling through this field of gravity destabilizers. He must’ve been flying around in loops at all different angles without making much progress. He also started to feel woozy when the gravity pulled him upward, sending all the blood to his head.

After the last of the gravity destabilizers, he hit the final stretch. From this point on, there were no more obstacles. There was only a winding track that led to the finish line, which he could barely see from where he was. He held his breath when he discovered there was no one to be found on the track. Did everyone already cross the finish line? Was the race already over?

He couldn’t resist the urge to glance back. There they all were. There were only five contestants left. The remaining racers continued to fight each other, attempting to knock each other down. All of the contestants were fighting furiously against one another to become number one without realizing Darek had already passed them.

Darek eagerly took this opportunity to sneak his way to the finish line. With a hasty burst of speed, he landed back on the semi-cylindrical racecourse and began the last section. The other racers noticed him when he jetted ahead, and they cooperated in order to get past the gravity destabilizers quickly.

Darek’s lead was diminishing ever so rapidly. He had to navigate the treacherous turns alone. There was no one to follow this time.
Don’t look back
, he repeated these words over and over in his head. But even without looking back, he could see them clearly in his mind’s eye, chasing him down.

The first major turn came. Darek whisked over the frictionless track in a drift. A few people were on his tail, they all performed perfect drifts and stuck very close to the inside of the track. Turn after turn, he managed to stay ahead, but the tension was killing him. At any moment, someone could just come up from behind and steal away first place. It was especially stressful as they were nearing the end of the race. One mistake and it was all over.

A sudden fear bit painfully into his chest. A panic-attack gripped him. The scenery began to deform, warping into a twisted picture, though he was pretty sure it was either an illusion or his imagination. The feeling in his gut worsened. Blotches of red and black crossed his vision. This was a signal coming from the confines of the mind—a warning. His instincts were telling him of a certain danger that awaited him at the finish line. He could feel it: a terrifying blood thirst. It gave him chills. He felt so frightened that he suddenly became rooted in place. The other racers passed him, and Darek didn’t even care. He did not want to be first place, not with that overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

The others drew near the finish line. Darek watched in horror. Jaws of death came like a thief in the night—so unexpected, so sudden. The one who was about to receive first place was snatched up in one bite. Was this part of the race also? A giant shark was glaring at the contestants, seeking another snack. It had come from below and didn’t mind to overstay its welcome.

Darek supposed the term would be sky shark. Could sharks fly? On this planet they did, and it wasn’t a good sign for the racers ahead. Only a couple managed to escape its rows of ravenous crimson-painted teeth.

Darek geared up. He quickly transmuted his mystical black gloves over his hands. However, he had forgotten that he didn’t bring his daggers. His powers did not work without a dagger. It’s not like he could throw fireballs or anything.

Through much experimentation, Darek understood the concept behind the gloves. Weapon enchantment. Other Judges had standalone powers, such as Slade’s metal fist or Elize’s snake-like claws, but Darek’s powers were dependent on having a weapon. He could enhance weapons with the power of fire by using Chrovel’s spirit energy within him. He had no weapons and, unfortunately for him, fists didn’t count.

Chrovel, the Guardian of fire, spoke into his mind,
Darek
,
use the board! Use the board, Darek!

“What board?” Darek wondered, glancing around. “OH! The hover board!” He thought for a moment. “Wait a minute. Does it really work like that?”

Chrovel replied,
Almost anything can be used as a weapon. The board will work!

Determined to win, Darek gritted his teeth. He accelerated toward the sky shark that was heading straight for him. He then crouched over and grabbed the board with both hands. His board erupted into a blazing fire. “OW! THAT’S REALLY HOT! AAAH!”

Calm down
, said Chrovel.
Let me help. I’ll shield you from the flames. Just focus on winning the prize.

The flames deterred the sky shark from trying to engulf Darek. Terrified by the fire, the shark dove and disappeared out of sight.

Sweating like crazy, Darek made it past the finish line, weary and weak. The flames over the board vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He stumbled and tripped over his own board. Darek collapsed to the ground. All around him, everything turned dark. The sounds of footsteps and worried shouts penetrated his ears.

“Hey, kid! Are you okay? Say something!”

Darek tried to stay conscious. He found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar faces. His sight and hearing were all fuzzy. Even his mind felt blurred. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he didn’t really bother to think about it. All he knew was that he was lying on a cold floor in pain.

“Get out of the way,” he heard a voice yell. “Give him room! Go on!” The words echoed in his ear. Picking his head up slightly, he surveyed the hazy faces one by one. There had to be someone he knew in this crowd.

Darek soon felt the tug on his arm as someone pulled him up. He was hoisted to his feet, his arm wrapped around someone’s shoulders. He heard a voice mumble loudly, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you to the nurse.”

It was Slade.

Darek said weakly, “Slade, did I win? Was I able to win?”

“Yeah,” Slade replied. “You were great. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s good,” Darek muttered. “I won.” Even though it was hard for him to express it, Darek felt a deep satisfaction in the victory. He did not disappoint his friends; he did not let them down. This was the greatest feeling. “I can—I can walk on my own.”

“You sure?”