Game of Garlands (The Petralist) Read online

  Game of Garlands

  Frank Morin

  Game of Garlands

  A Petralist Novella

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Frank Morin

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  www.example.com

  ISBN: 978-1-946910-09-7

  A Whipsaw Press Original

  Edited by Joshua Essoe

  (http://www.joshuaessoe.com/)

  Cover art by Christian Bentulan

  (http://coversbychristian.com/)

  Illustrations by Jared Blando

  (http://www.theredepic.com/)

  Book design by Kathryn Morin

  First Whipsaw printing September 2019

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Frank Morin

  About the Author

  1

  Flowers Really Are the Key to a Heart’s Desire

  Anika ducked, and her brother’s rock-hard fist passed so close to her face she could have bit it. He grabbed for her hair, but she flicked it away before he could grab it.

  “Nice try, Erich,” she teased as she slammed her knuckles into his ribs. She hadn’t let him fling her into the wall by the braid in weeks.

  Even though neither of them wore battle leathers while practicing in the stone-walled patio behind their parents’ home, Erich didn’t flinch at her punch. Striking his granite-hardened, blue-tinged torso felt like punching a living wall, but it was so much more fun. Anika’s heart raced with the thrill of the fight, and all her senses felt more alive when she was tapping granite and immersed in battle, even if it was only a friendly bash fight with her older brother.

  Erich caught her in the side of the head with his return back fist. It felt like getting hit by a tree, and the impact knocked her to the hard-packed earth. She rolled and returned to her feet, crouched and ready for his next blow.

  Instead he paused and said, “Good move. If I hadn’t increased my tap rate at the last second, you would’ve cracked a rib.”

  She returned his grin. She loved the unrivaled feeling of granite power that hardened her muscles and transformed her into a perfectly-sculpted living statue. She was the best battle maiden in her company, and she’d never backed down from any challenger.

  Erich just happened to be a little older, a little more experienced, and probably fifty pounds of hard muscle heavier. That gave him an advantage that she was still trying to overcome. She loved the challenge, and loved that she could train so hard with him.

  The early morning air in the practice yard was cool, carrying the scents of earth and stone, overlaid by the smell of mother’s cooking. Those tantalizing smells wafted out of the open dining room window that looked out over the practice yard.

  Anika raised her fists and said, “I haven’t broken one of your ribs in a month. Let me try that again.”

  His grin faded and his tone turned warning. “You can’t be asking for permission around Captain Ilse. Any sign of weakness, and you’ll fail to make the team. You’ll have a hard enough time as it is.”

  “That was just a turn of phrase,” she objected.

  “Turn it a different way next time.”

  “Krokus,” she cursed softly to herself. She wasn’t about to let him see how much the looming test worried her. She couldn’t imagine not making the elite team. “You made it. How hard can it be?”

  He chuckled and released granite. His skin, which had looked mottled blue while tapping his affinity, returned to normal. The Clemens granite that Erich preferred provided exceptional power, but tended to run out faster than other strains of power stone. Erich didn’t often worry about it. He usually beat down any opponents so fast that the quicker exhaustion time didn’t matter.

  Anika preferred stone from the Walther quarry in the eastern mountains. The delicate, rose-tinted stone produced a steady, dependable strength, and it tinted her skin that same rose hue. A girl could feel pretty even when engaged in mortal combat.

  Erich said, “I don’t have time to stand around chatting all morning. I’ve got extra duty today. I’ll show you why I made it.”

  Thorn and blossoms, she needed to return to the barracks early too. If only the extra shifts were for combat duty. She’d love that. Unfortunately, the prince’s upcoming international summit was filling everyone’s schedule with mundane drivel. She hadn’t gotten to punch anyone outside of training in eleven days. And everyone was so busy, she hadn’t gotten even a halfway decent wrestling proposal in even longer.

  She hoped the actual delegates from all the nations of the Arishat League proved more interesting. If not, the whole political mess meant sausage to her. Still, time was short, so she had to beat Erich now.

  Her brother tapped granite again. His skin shifted to blue and his already well-developed muscles swelled and hardened. He charged, but Anika was ready. She slipped around his first couple of punches, focusing on not getting hit and on figuring out something different to finally beat him.

  They’d been sparring for over five minutes, and although she was faster than Erich, she couldn’t always avoid his hammer-like blows. She had to max-tap granite most of the bout. That vastly increased her strength and the protection of her hardened skin, but also burned much faster through the powdered granite she’d absorbed through her skin to fuel her affinity. That meant she might run out first, even though he was using Clemens stone.

  Running out of granite was an embarrassing way to end a friendly bash fight, but it happened all too often. She promised herself today would be different. Today needed to be different.

  So when he again snapped fists toward her face, she ducked to the left. Instead of throwing another jab that would ultimately do nothing to slow him, she side-kicked his leading foot, just before he took his next step.

  Erich stumbled.

  Anika grabbed his right arm and, using it as a lever, flung her legs up and wrapped them around his neck, locking her ankles behind. Continuing the motion, she swung her entire body sideways, dragging him off his feet.

  They struck the ground hard and she rolled away, laughing. Max-tapping granite, Erich could rip full grown trees out of the ground, but he still could fall if his balance wasn’t set properly.

  By the time he staggered back to his feet, muttering a curse about annoying little sisters, she had already grabbed an eight-foot log, almost three feet in diameter. She smashed him in the face with it. The heavy log splintered against his rock-hard skull, and the blow again threw him from his feet.

  The back door of the house opened to her right. Their father peeked out and scowled at the cracked and splintered wood. “Don’t just stand there, girl. Hit him again. Try to break the wood off more evenly this time. When you’re finished, come in for breakfast.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Anika charged Erich as he stood, aiming another heavy blow at his face. They had already splintered most of the wood their parents would need to fuel the winter f
ires, but father constantly complained that they didn’t break it into regular lengths. The uneven, jagged sections were hard to stack.

  So she decided to beat Erich with that log until she reduced it to kindling. Erich was ready this time though, and he caught it. As they grappled over the log, Anika max-tapped granite and drew upon every ounce of strength to break it free of Erich’s grasp. Her body shifted to perfect lines, every exquisitely-sculpted muscle straining for dominance. She would show him she could match him strength for strength.

  Anika growled with the effort as the log began to creak under the strain of their superhuman struggle. Erich’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a fierce grin as he bent his strength to beat her.

  He max-tapped, and his already bulging muscles grew larger still. She felt the shift through the log and realized she’d already lost half a heartbeat before it happened. With a heave of his massive shoulders, Erich yanked her right off her feet and smashed her into the triple-reinforced concrete wall at the back of the practice yard.

  The brutal impact actually rattled her for a second. By the time her vision cleared, Erich stood over her and poked her in the center of the forehead with one thick finger.

  “Match.”

  “Brute,” she growled as she accepted his proffered hand and let him haul her back to her feet.

  She released granite, and her body returned to normal. Erich sometimes complained that releasing his powers was depressing, but Anika didn’t see it that way. She loved her granite-hardened, Rumbler battle body, but she liked being herself too.

  At nineteen, she was at the peak of health and fitness. She was tall for a girl, nearly able to look Erich in the eye. The two of them shared the same shade of blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was glad the likeness didn’t extend to his big muscles, thick limbs, and wide face. She liked the fact that she wasn’t a skinny twig of a woman, but also not built like a tree trunk.

  Erich nudged her with a shoulder. “You lose, little sister, so you do dishes.”

  “Don’t rub it in.” She glanced at the wall he’d smashed her into. The concrete sported a new crack. She grimaced. “Father won’t be happy about that.”

  Erich grunted. “I say we stack the next pile of wood right there.”

  “Done.” She clapped hands with him and said, “I almost had you that time.”

  “Never gonna happen, little sister. You’re a good fighter, but you’ll never out-wrestle me. You need to fight smarter.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

  He grabbed for her long braid, but she skipped out of range and led the way inside. After washing the sweat from their hands and faces, they joined their parents at the breakfast table.

  “How did it go?” Father asked.

  “I almost had him,” Anika insisted.

  Father asked Erich, “So, is she ready?”

  Erich paused before answering, and Anika fought down another flutter of nerves by checking the flowers in the large vase at the center of the table. She’d prepared the arrangement the day before, and the blossoms still looked fresh. The colors were a vibrant mix of delicate, white edelweiss, bright blue cornflowers, and purple crocuses.

  Erich said, “I can’t think of any other battle maidens who could beat you, but Ilse is looking for more than just fighters.”

  “What do you mean?” Anika asked with a frown. “She’s assembling an elite team of warriors. How can she do that if she doesn’t pick the best fighters?”

  The problem was no one knew exactly what Captain Ilse planned to do with her special new team. She was already a star in General Wolfram’s staff, and word about a new team had spread through the ranks like wildfire. Ilse and her husband, Lucas, already commanded the Crushers, the most elite force in the entire Grandurian army.

  Erich and Anika had both planned to join the Crushers until they heard about the new team. Speculation ran wild about the potential missions Ilse might be assigned, and Anika yearned to take part in them. So far Erich was the only Rumbler to make the team. Anika planned to be the second, but the rather loose requirements made preparations difficult and nerve-wracking.

  Mother interrupted her thoughts by placing a huge platter of sausages, eggs, and ham onto the table. She was already dressed for the day, wearing a stylish, if faded, dress under her apron. She’d styled her silvery hair into loose curls, even though she was old enough that she shouldn’t still worry about such things. Anika’s parents might not be rich, but her mother didn’t let that keep her from staying current with fashion trends.

  Erich filled his plate to overflowing and began shoveling enormous helpings into his mouth. Anika heaped her plate just as full, but pointed her fork at her brother and said, “What did you mean by that comment?”

  He swallowed and she read concern in his eyes. “I hadn’t been worried for you. I’m on the team, so I figured you’d get in easy.”

  “Just because you’re on it? Are you suggesting I couldn’t do it without your help?”

  He raised an eyebrow, as if the point was a given. “You’re a great fighter, Anika, but you’ve followed my every footstep. Do you really think you would’ve risen through the ranks so quickly and caught Ilse’s eye without my influence?”

  “Of course.” She filled her voice with absolute confidence, but hated that dark little fear that rose to haunt her yet again. She had wondered often about that very point, and as much as she told herself and everyone who brought it up that Erich’s assistance didn’t mean anything, she had to wonder.

  While she worried about Erich’s words, she began pulling the flowers out of the vase and weaving them into an intricate crown wreath. She barely looked as she worked, her fingers moving by feel as she added in more flowers and a pattern emerged. The work helped calm her.

  Father said between mouthfuls, “Stop worrying, Anika. You’ll make the team and make us proud. What does it matter how you get there?”

  “It matters that I get there on my own merits.”

  “That’s exactly what you’ll have to do, but that’s the reason I’m a little worried,” Erich said. He lowered his fork. “I’ve helped you every way I could, but that might actually make things harder for you this time.”

  “How is that possible?” Father asked.

  “Yesterday, Xaver took his test. He failed.”

  “What?” Anika gasped. Xaver was one of the best fighters in all of Granadure, had come in second behind Erich in the last two annual bash fighting games. She’d figured his acceptance on the new, elite team was all but guaranteed.

  Erich shook his head. “Ilse said he was a gifted fighter, and a credit to the prince’s guard, but that’s not enough to make the team.”

  “What more could she want?” Father asked. “If Xaver can’t make it, who can?”

  “Someone with leadership potential, who sees the difference between strategic and tactical situations, and who can think fast and adapt to unexpected situations.”

  That was a daunting list, and Anika marveled that Erich had passed all those requirements. He was the undisputed champion Rumbler in all of Granadure, but she’d never considered him smart or strategically clever.

  Maybe Ilse needed one bash fighter she could simply point in the right direction and unleash overwhelming destruction. Ilse was legendarily clever, so maybe she figured she could do the thinking for Erich. He could out-bash anyone, but for the first time Anika wondered if maybe there were aspects to him that she hadn’t noticed in her single-minded drive to perfect her own fighting abilities.

  While she considered that, she continued working the crown wreath, shifting the pattern and changing the entire construct into a looping weave, the kind her mother loved to wear across her shoulders in the afternoons while reading.

  To conceal her worry, Anika teased, “So how did you make it?”

  “I’m on, so I’m not the one who has to worry.” Erich fixed her with the most serious expression she’d seen from him maybe ever. “You do. You’ve always cho
sen to do exactly what I’ve done and what I’m best positioned to help you with. You’ve never proven you can do anything on your own, that you’re more than just a talented follower.”

  “I can’t help it if I enjoy doing the same things you do,” she exclaimed.

  “But not all the same things,” Mother pointed out. She had served herself less than a quarter of the helping that Erich and Anika had. Neither of their parents had any Petralist gift, and sometimes it shocked Anika how little they needed to sustain themselves.

  “All the things that matter,” Anika said.

  “But you’re not the same person, dear. You’re a great fighter, but do we really need two special-forces Rumblers in the family?”

  Anika rolled her eyes, and Father grunted, looking disgusted by the suggestion. He loved the honor and prestige that their family won from Erich and Anika doing so well in the armed forces.

  Erich laughed. “What else would Anika do?”

  “I do other things,” she insisted.

  “I can’t think of one thing you’ve done on your own,” he teased.

  “Then you should release granite from your head. You’re squeezing what little brains you have left,” Anika snapped.

  Erich sat back and said, “Fine. Name one thing you would even consider doing as a career that I haven’t already done first.”

  The question caught her by surprise and she hesitated, her fingers stopping work on the nearly-completed flower construct. She really did love fighting with granite strength more than anything, but it wasn’t the only thing that defined her, was it?

  Erich grunted. “Come on. If you can’t convince me, you’ll never convince Captain Ilse.”