Deadly Wands by Brent Reilly Page B

yelled into Liz's ear, not counting those Billy
got before the championship.
    Sure enough, a scared man in expensive armor
flew wildly at Billy, shooting like crazy. The boy let him come,
moving as needed to dodge his fire, acting almost bored. Billy let
him shoot at point-blank range. Instead of avoiding the blast, the
prodigy simply crouched down and shielded himself with both wands.
The flame smacked harmlessly off the small wall of steel.
Astonished, the man did not flee quickly enough and Billy speared
him like a fish, without even leaving the ground.
    The crowd went wild.
    William tried not to show how proud he was,
as his wife glared at her disobedient son.
    Billy took off his battle helmet to show he
was now a brunette, and his mother swore under her breath for
teaching him how to die hair. Billy lined his face with black
streaks, which started a new fad, to make identifying him
harder.
    Everyone now jumped to their feet to
celebrate the Empire's new champion. Fights broke out and fans
spilled an unseemly amount of liquor. Liz pulled on William's arm,
who reluctantly followed her downstairs.
    "We need to find management."
    She asked someone selling wine sacks, who
pointed out someone in a security uniform, who brought them through
several doors to a woman behind a desk.
    "We’re the parents of your wonder boy," Liz
told her.
    "Boy Wonder. That's what they call him," the
clerk replied.
    "If the authorities discover you’ve been
letting a ten year old fight a thousand quads without his parent's
commission, well, I imagine some heads could roll."
    The woman's face changed color and gestured
for them to follow her down more stairs until they reached someone
of obvious authority. William placed a restraining hand on his
wife, then spoke first.
    "Our son, your Wonder Boy, ran away and sent
us this message." He replayed the video sent via the postal
service. "Here we are celebrating his tenth birthday with him,” he
said, playing another video. “I assume you do not want problems
with the police for letting a ten year old duel without his
parents' permission. I also assume our son lied to you in order to
duel. However, we expect your cooperation."
    The guy took the news well. He sent a beauty
after Billy who returned totally unsurprised to see his parents. By
now a small crowd of employees gathered, hoping to get an image
taken with the youngest champion in history.
    "You came!" Billy shouted, as if he didn’t
expect them. He hugged them to avoid getting screamed at.
    His mother, in tears, brought herself to eye
level so Billy could see her anger. The boy wisely appeared
suitably contrite. Once she concluded it was contrived, she rotated
her upper body to slap him silly. After several years living a
hard, nomadic life, her wiry muscles could pack a punch. The smack
knocked the boy clear across the room to astonished silence. The
manager looked shocked at anyone striking a champion with a
thousand kills to his mantle. Liz was less impressed.
    "I've been crying myself to sleep! Did you
even think of me at all?"
    Billy got up warily and kept his distance.
“Mom, if you ever hit me again, you’ll never see me again.” He then
addressed his father. "Dad, the betting here is unbelievable. I’m a
counter-party to almost a million bets a day. I’m no longer getting
bets against specific duelers, but against one hundred a day. A
week ago nobody believed I’d survive a thousand duels, so
practically everyone with two coins to rub together gave me
ridiculous odds. Despite monopolizing every money transfer service,
I’m still accumulating more coin than I can move.
    “There are more Mongols here than in
Mongolia, and they’re all rich. More fans bet on dueling than on
every other sport combined. This is a dream come true, and you’d
have stopped me, so I decided it’d be better to ask forgiveness
than permission.”
    As if any mother would let her child have the
last word: “I’ve yet to hear you ask for either