Veiled by Benedict Jacka

fire mages tend to go one of two ways: either they learn a lot of self-control, or they’re the kind of people you really don’t want to spend time with. Haken was the self-controlled type. Although the sword of carved flame in his hands
looked
dangerous, the fire was tightly focused and didn’t expel much heat, and none of his strikes came close to touching my skin. I returned the favour by being careful to pull my blows. When you’re dealing with someone who’s considerate enough to restrain themselves from hurting you, it’s a good idea not to provoke them.
    I was absorbed enough in the fight that I didn’t notice anything else was happening until a burst of laughter broke my concentration. I stepped back, lowering my sword, and looked left to see that the other groups had merged, congregating into a loose circle. At some point while I’d been busy with Haken they’d switched to one-on-one sparring while the others watched. Right now most of the group were calling out comments; whatever had just happened, it had obviously been good entertainment.
    Caldera was in the middle of the circle in her white gi. Opposite her was a stocky Keeper with close-cropped hair that I knew vaguely. His name was Slate, and right now he was hunched over and scowling. “Sorry,” Caldera said. She was trying not to grin, and not doing a very good job of it. “Slipped.”
    â€œBullshit,” Slate said.
    â€œHey,” one of the men sitting around the edges called out. “Not like you were using those anyway!”
    There was another burst of laughter, and Slate’s scowl got uglier. “Come on,” Caldera said. “Let’s go again.”
    â€œFuck that.”
    â€œWussing out already?”
    â€œYou know what?” Slate jerked his head in my direction. “You want to do shit like that, why don’t you try it on your
friend
?”
    The laughter died away at that. Heads turned in my direction. Caldera gave me a glance, then shrugged. “Fine with me.”
    All of a sudden everyone was looking at me. There were still a few Keepers grinning, but most of them looked expectant.
    I hesitated. I really wasn’t sure I wanted to take on Caldera—doing it alone might have been fun, but having her mop the floor with me in front of an audience didn’t appeal. Unfortunately, that same audience was waiting for my answer, and from the looks in their eyes I knew I was on trial. They wouldn’t pressure me into it if I said no, but the Keepers already thought I was morally suspect. Backing down now would
also
make them think I was a wimp. Not a good combination.
    â€œYou know, we could—” Haken began.
    â€œIt’s fine,” I said. I was going to have to make an impression sooner or later. “Here.” I handed Haken my focus sword and walked forward.
    The Keepers sitting on the ground scooted aside to let me in, and the laughter and conversation died away. All of a sudden everyone was looking
very
interested. I came to a stop about fifteen feet from Caldera. “Don’t want a weapon?” Caldera asked.
    I shrugged. “You haven’t got one.”
    Caldera raised an eyebrow. She didn’t say the obvious, namely that she didn’t need any.
    We faced each other in the middle of the circle. Caldera was wearing a worn and dirty white gi with a red belt: she wasn’t carrying any tools or weapons, but given her magic type, that really didn’t make much difference. There was a mirror on the wall behind her, and in the reflection I could see myself, tall and long-limbed and wearing a black gi of my own. Thinking about it, it hadn’t been the smartest of clothing choices—having Caldera in white and me in black looked altogether too symbolic. Oh well.
    Caldera bowed, and I did the same. Then she stepped back into a fighting stance and I put everything else out of my mind.
    It’s hard for a nondiviner to