The Nine Bishops

Mika was sitting inside the barrier, alone. She’d arrived roughly thirty minutes early; the last thing she wanted was to be disqualified for being late—or worse, killed. She was surprised to be the first one there since the crowds had already started to form outside the barrier.

Mika was reflecting on the previous night’s conversation with Tink. The two had lost track of time, and when she finally headed for bed, Mika found it impossible to sleep. She was glad to have finally opened up to someone she could trust. Tink, normally a silent listener, was so taken aback by what she told him that he had to ask her questions about everything. He was astounded to hear that she really was a Filth. Mika had told him everything: her memories of her father, her travels to Monsoon, even how she got the Bishop’s medallion. Tink asked hard questions, to which Mika gave hard answers.

Now, Mika was struggling to stay awake and regretting having chosen that evening to tell Tink her story.

She was confident, but not arrogant—she knew she couldn’t afford to not be at her best. Tobias Zan would be a formidable opponent, and it would take Mika everything she had to defeat him.

Even though the tournament broadcast could be seen anywhere throughout Seemos, people still liked to watch it live. Vendors had set up stands to sell food and drink, and to take bets. There was a lot of money to be made during the tournament. Zaya had warned Mika to stay away from the gambling boards, but she was curious about how much coin could be made. You could bet on the length of a round, how it would end (by death, yielding, or unconsciousness) and—most lucrative of all—who would win. The bookmakers set odds for each one of the Selected.

Mika was surprised to find the odds on her to win were forty percent—way higher than she’d expected. That was remarkably high, since Tobias Zan was a prominent mage. Mika’s odds had been twenty-five percent just yesterday, so it seemed that the victory by Bishop Tempest’s candidates gave a little extra sheen to Bishop candidates.

Two names in particular really caught Mika’s attention.

Before Master Beng’s fight yesterday, his odds were apparently ten percent to win. Some people had made a lot of coin after his victory. Today, his odds were eighty percent. In a matter of one day, speculation had gone from a ten percent chance of winning to an eighty percent chance on the second round.

The only person with a higher speculated chance of winning was Lancel Beng. His odds—one to nine, meaning the crowd believed he had a ninety percent chance of winning—were astonishing, since he hadn’t even fought yet. And that wasn’t just for the first round; it was for the entire tournament. For the first round, his odds of winning were ninety-nine percent. If he lost, a few foolhardy bettors would become rich in an instant. Mika wondered how he had amassed such certainty among the oddsmakers, when she still didn’t even know what his magic strain was.

Mika suddenly became aware of someone talking and realized with a start that she’d dozed off. She panicked for a moment, afraid she’d somehow been late to the tournament, then looked up and realized she was exactly where she was supposed to be and that two other contestants were staring down at her. The third, Heart of the Mountain’s nominee, Farl Tobb, was pacing back and forth, talking to himself and sweating profusely. It was his voice that had awakened her.

Mika quickly gathered herself and wiped away a thin line of drool that had escaped her mouth. Wondering how long they’d been watching her, she felt embarrassed under the gaze of Tobias Zan and Jazmine Ado, who wore entirely different expressions. Jazmine was crouched five feet away from Mika, smiling. When Mika woke up, she fell back and started laughing.

Tobias Zan, on the other hand, stood with his massive arms crossed, looking sternly at Mika. He then seemed to lose interest and instead watched Farl Tobb pacing around anxiously. Compared to the two men, Jazmine seemed to Mika to look oddly at ease. She had also revealed her identity to Lancel, Mika remembered, so she had to be confident about her ability. Once she stopped laughing, Jazmine began humming a happy tune to herself, giving the impression she didn’t have a care in the world, while her opponent looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

Farl Tobb was roughly forty, a plain-looking man with brown curly hair. Though he wasn’t Heart of the Mountain’s master, he was reputed to be a fantastic mage. His behavior, though, was hard to watch; he seemed more panicked than confident.

Mika wondered what yesterday’s pre-tournament waiting had been like. Mika knew her master had meditated the whole time, until the fight was over, which made her curious as to what effect that had on the confidence of the other contestants. Mika herself was in an anxious state, but not for herself. Her worry focused on Farl Tobb. Tobias was staring at Farl Tobb, too, but Mika could not discern whether he was worried, too, or simply had a habit of sharp-eyed watchfulness.

Mika thought of saying something comforting, but just then she saw Bojo Jack skipping towards them. Today, he was wearing huge sunglasses that covered his face. As he opened his mouth to speak, he was interrupted by a sudden outburst by Farl Hobb.

“I can’t do it. I just can’t,” he started in a shaky tone.

“Yes you can. Fight! Don’t let her win. You are stronger than this.” It was Farl Hobb speaking again, this time in a more confident tone.

“Don’t be a fool. You will die,” the shaky tone retorted.

“I won’t, I’m stronger than her,” the confident voice shouted.

Mika stared at him for a moment, wondering what was wrong with him. Is this part of his magic? Mika thought. She watched the reactions of the others. Bojo’s mouth was open and he was looking around, back and forth, looking for some sort of cue for what to do about this strange behavior. Tobias Zan stared with his arms crossed; Jazmine smiled obliviously.

“Well, uh, I don’t know what I missed, but this guy is crazy,” Bojo said, half to himself and half to the three sane contestants. “But I’m just here to tell ya’ll that the tournament begins in five minutes. Joker’s girl, you can leave that way,” Bojo said, pointing north. “There is a private area where you won’t be disturbed and won’t affect the first round by staying in. The same goes for you, Big T, but you’ll go in the opposite direction. When the round is over, I ask that you immediately come back here to start your round.”

Tobias Zan grunted and walked off toward the southern end of the barrier. Mika took that as her cue to leave as well, walking in the direction Bojo had indicated. She glanced back once, wondering what would happen next between the smiling Jazmine Ado and the seemingly insane Farl Tobb. Before she knew it, she had passed through some other barrier and was in a private room by herself.

The room was empty but for one chair. Mika elected to stay standing. Suddenly, a small broadcast of the tournament appeared on the wall. This, she realized, would allow her to watch the round before hers, to learn something about her next opponent.

As the countdown reached ten, Jazmine and Farl appeared on the screen. Jazmine was still calmly smiling, while Farl, opposite her, appeared more and more deranged. Bojo counted down to zero, then signaled the start of the fight.

But it wasn’t much of a battle. Farl Tobb was now clutching his head, screaming all his doubts and fears aloud, while Jazmine tilted her head and eyed him with a curious smile. It was obvious the pressure of the tournament was breaking Farl. Jazmine edged closer to him, which appeared to distress Farl even more. She unsheathed something sharp from the cuff of her shirt.

And then Farl yelled two words, so loudly that Mika couldn’t believe her ears.

“I yield!”

He fell to his knees.

The shot immediately switched to Jazmine, who smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, uhh … folks, it appears Farl Tobb has yielded … meaning that Jazmine Ado is our winner!” Bojo announced, with surprise in his voice.

And with that, Farl Tobb seemed instantly relieved. In fact, it was a transformational moment, a complete absence of distress that shocked Mika. Dumbfounded, she watched Farl Tobb calmly walk out of view of the broadcast as Bojo proclaimed: “Now, we welcome the master of Royal Flush, Tobias Zan, and his mysterious and beautiful opponent, Bishop Joker’s nominee!”

That was her cue to head back. Mika dispelled thoughts about the last round instantly. No matter how many questions she had about what had just transpired, for now she had to be in the moment. Mika walked slowly toward the center of the barrier enclosure. The distant speck that was Tobias Zan grew larger, until they were standing no more than ten feet apart.

Everything around them was open space. No place to take cover. No place to think. All of Mika’s training over the past two years would have to come to full fruition here, on this battlefield.

Mika stared at Tobias Zan, as he stared at her. He was wearing a shirt with no sleeves, pants that hung loosely to the ground, and wooden-soled sandals. His arms looked like they were carved out of stone. Though three times Mika’s age, he was very fit and intimidating. But she knew she was more than meets the eye, and she wasn’t going to let him stop her.

Bojo wasn’t anywhere in sight, but they could hear his commentary. Then he spoke to the two competitors, a message only they could hear.

“Five minutes until your fight begins. If you fight before I finish the countdown, then you will both be disqualified.”

The two then stood in silence, staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

Mika felt a bead of sweat roll down her face. Two years of training came down to this moment. The countdown began. Ten. She took a deep breath. Nine, eight, seven, six. She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes. Five, four, three, two, one. A wave of determination filled her. Fight! Mika opened her eyes and initiated the first attack.