Lori Devoti - Amazon Ink

I looked at Bubbe, surprised. I’d been the one to issue the challenge, meaning she got to choose the battle, but I hadn’t expected this.

“Never underestimate, devochka moya.” She slid her gaze to the first telios -a bull. Hereford by the looks of him. You never could tell with Bubbe; she liked to mix old with new. For whatever reason, I got a bull known more for burgers than fighting.

Might have been some kind of insult. The thought had barely formed before he started trotting forward, horns high and ears erect.

At three thousand pounds it didn’t matter what he was bred for, he was damn intimidating.

My bullfighting experience was pretty much limited to one rodeo I attended back in my Amazon days. And I wasn’t the one fighting him, my designated one-night stand had been-well, riding him, actually. Still, it was all the experience I had to go on.

I rubbed my palms on my jeans.

“Mel.” Mother broke ranks long enough to slide her sword across the gym floor. I watched it twirl in circles, like some crazy game spinner. Where would it stop? Whose move?

Lucky me. It was mine.

The bull lowered his head and snorted. I somersaulted across the floor, stopping next to the sword, and picked it up with both hands. It took a minute for my arms to adjust to the feel of it. It wasn’t heavy, not like some movies and fantasy novels would have you believe, but I wasn’t used to it. Swords were never my thing.

The bull seemed to sense that. He charged.

I tried to position the sword, to pierce the animal in the neck where I calculated I would do the most damage with the least effort, but my movements were awkward and I stumbled. As the creature pounded toward me, sense won out over looking good or doing things right. I deserted the sword and leapt out of his path. I could smell the sweat on his body, feel the air move as he raced past.

I let out a ragged breath, my knees crumpling beneath me.

Telios. Why telios? The rite of truth could be fought any way-with magic, hand-to-hand combat-hell, as far as I knew, two hearth-keepers could stage a bake-off. And my grandmother, who I’d thought carried at least some fondness for me, chose the Amazon telioses embodied. I was glad Artemis hadn’t had a fondness for dragons.

My breathing still labored, I pressed my fingers into the floor to keep from tumbling and looked at Bubbe. Her face was calm, almost unlined. All appearances of frailty and old age were gone.

The old fake-I should have known better. The beginnings of anger pushed me to a stand. Her gaze behind me, Bubbe twitched a brow. I turned, but too late. The bull stampeded, his head down. There was no time to dodge, no time to think. On instinct, I murmured a prayer and blew out a breath. His steps slowed, his head lowered further-as if he were pushing against a wall instead of charging across the open gym floor.

I blew harder. He slowed more until finally he seemed to lose all steam, slowed to a stop, then stood there, head hanging and his body colored dark with sweat.

I placed my hand over my heart, felt the thumping inside my chest, then picked up the sword and strode forward. Staring my grandmother in the eye, I stabbed the weapon through his neck, severing his spinal cord. The telios shimmered and vanished, back to nothingness…air. The sword clattered to the ground.

I’d felt the muscle as I’d shoved the sword into his neck, felt the heat of his body and his breath. He had been real…but now he was gone. Air…nothing but air. Only my grandmother could do that. No sooner had the thought come than the bull reappeared-just as solid and intimidating as he had been originally.

I bent to retrieve the sword and did my best to hide the sinking feeling in my core. I weighed the weapon and my options. Obviously, in my grandmother’s rule book I hadn’t bested the bull. I took a step toward him, hoping some new idea would come to me before he gored me in the stomach, but he seemed uninterested in me, frozen, in fact. I frowned and began moving in a circle, pivoting slowly on one foot to study each animal for movement.

Behind me another telios came to life. I recognized the feeling now, a kind of tingle, like something was creeping up on me-which it was.

I supposed I should have been grateful Bubbe was launching the creatures at me one at a time rather than releasing them in some kind of Amazon blood orgy but, as I turned, I saw the gaping jaws of a lion as he yawned into life. No words of thanks sprang to mind-just a few well-worn curses.

I didn’t bother reaching for the sword. I knew nothing about fighting a lion, but doubted holding a sword would provide me with much advantage.

Again Mother came to the rescue, sliding a shield and spear across the floor. I was thinking something big and loaded with bullets would be a lot more practical, but Amazons didn’t do firearms. Besides, pulling a trigger probably wouldn’t teach whatever lesson my grandmother had gone to so much trouble to relay to me.

I picked up the spear, tossed it up and down, testing its balance…muttered to myself. I was tired of having to defend myself…prove myself even to my own family.

The anger began to build again, this time with no direct focus. I was angry at all of them.

Zery was locked up and a killer was on the loose-standing in front of me, actually. I tossed the spear again, glanced at Alcippe. I’d tried playing this the Amazon way, convinced myself that would be best-and found myself caught in this trial by telios . Maybe it was time to take things back into my own hands.

I turned my grip, readied myself to throw the spear.

The lion lunged. All thought of Alcippe fled. I spun, threw the spear without pausing to aim or think about the best target. To my shock, it hit home, embedded into the lion’s head. Like the bull he shimmered, then was gone. The spear fell with a clatter to the floor. I just stared at it. Again my heart pounded. My pulse jumped at my throat. My gaze shot to my grandmother. She was unmoved, unruffled.

I took a step forward. “What the-?” The lion reappeared, but like the bull, frozen. I snapped my mouth closed and searched for my next opponent. The hare, stag, and fish all came to life.

On the surface, none of these animals seemed particularly dangerous-but I knew better than to relax. I didn’t understand this game, but I knew one was under way-and I needed to learn the rules fast.

The three animals wandered around the court, seemingly unaware of my presence. I glanced at Mother, but no weapon was shoved my way. The first two had saved me from being gored or eaten, but they hadn’t won the game. Perhaps that was all she’d been doing, buying me time to figure things out. Or perhaps she was as perplexed as I was. Either way, I was on my own.

The sword was within reach. And with no better idea leaping into my mind, I picked it up and started toward the deer. He didn’t startle, just lowered his head to munch on imaginary grass, then twisted his neck to rub his antlers on the floor. I raised the sword, ready to sever his spinal cord like I’d done to the bull, but as my arm raised, he shifted-grew, until his rack was an impenetrable maze reaching from floor to ceiling. I lowered the sword anyway, felt the impact as it hit bone all through my body, but the stag didn’t disappear, didn’t even move.

I jerked the sword free from the antlers and stared at Bubbe. Like the deer, she seemed unmoved. I thought about tossing the sword to the side then, admitting defeat, but my fingers wouldn’t let go.

Damn it. I wanted to beat her; I was going to deliver everything I had.

I stalked to the fish, grabbing the spear on the way. I stabbed at him. He slithered right, then left, darting as if swimming with the current, as if my spear were inconsequential-of no threat whatsoever. I dropped it, tried to grab him with my hands. I had him or thought I did, but as my fingers closed, he slipped through, slid out of reach.