New Blood
by Saber Alexander McConnell
Rated PG13

CHAPTER 13: Shaky Alliance

Once they'd walked a good ten meters away, Killian stopped and took Nohano's orb from his pocket. "Take this, mate," he said, holding the orb out. When Nohano's mouth twisted into an expression of loathing, Killian grasped his arm, cutting off whatever it was he had been about to say. "Nohano, please," he said, looking him right in the eyes. "I know you don't want it, and I probably wouldn't, either. But if this happens again...Nohano, I don't want you without protection."

Nohano didn't answer for what seemed like ten minutes, but he finally looked down, his expression one of capitulation, and Killian could almost feel the last of Nohano's temper drain away into weariness. He took the orb, and Killian managed a smile. "It'll be okay," he said quietly. "Maybe not for a while...but it will be. As for Amaya, I'm gonna have a word or three with her when we meet. For now, though...just...go be with the others. They'll want you with 'em."

Killian breathed a sigh of relief as Nohano finally smiled faintly, and nodded. "Killian," he said hoarsely, and cleared his throat. "Thanks. And—I'm really sorry I shoved you away earlier. I just...I couldn't...I--"

Killian held up a hand, halting Nohano's stammered. "Don't," he said. "I forgive ya. How could I not?" Nohano smiled again, and the two boys embraced briefly. "I'll see you later, maybe tomorrow, okay?"

Nohano nodded, wiping his eyes, and slunk off towards where the other members of No Quarter had gathered, several meters away. When Killian returned to the stage, the others were waiting for him. He said nothing, only followed when Suisei stood up and began to lead the way back to his car. In fact everyone was quiet, even the young boy Tarun, who fidgeted, but said nothing.

---

When the group arrived as Suisei car, Suisei got in and tried the ignition, frowning in bafflement as it started on the first try. "That's interesting," he muttered, turning the engine off and ducking back out of the door. "Well," he said. "I guess we all pile in...it won't be easy to squish seven of us in. Even if one is a shrimp."

"Hey!" said Tarun indignantly, putting his hands on his hips and glaring. Killian chuckled, happy for the distraction. "I am not a shrimp! Besides—I could fit in the trunk!" His indignation melted into delight at having thought of this grand solution to the problem.

Suisei only rolled his eyes to the sky. Demetrius, through a clever translating device he wore on his wrist, offered his lap and Tarun accept agreeably enough. Demetrius was easily the stockiest of the lot, and with both him and Tarun in the front seat, it left more room in the back for the others. As it was, it was still uncomfortable for four of them to squeeze together back there. The car wasn't tiny, but it certainly wasn't very big, either! Amaya ended up half on Rashida's lap, and Xander and Killian squeezed in beside them.

Looking wryly amused, Suisei got into the vehicle and started it up again, driving slowly out of the parking lot.

They were stopped by a pair of police officers on the way out, who expressed concern about the safety factor of all those people in the car, but Suisei assured him he was only bringing the others home, away from the fairegrounds. The officer hesitated for a moment, but he used his radio to check with whoever was in charge, and on finding Suisei had clearance to leave, waved them on. "Be careful, young man," he said in farewell.

Thanking the man, Suisei drove out.

It was a great relief to Killian to leave that place, and it seemed the others felt the same way, for no one said anything. Demetrius grunted suddenly and uttered something in what sounded like Russian, and Suisei admonished Tarun to stop fidgeting and watch where he put his hands. He had to say this three more times on the trip, in fact. No one else had much to say during the trip, and twenty minutes later, they were all standing at the door of Amaya's small rental house.

The house was in a quiet neighborhood with tiny houses and small lots, but the houses were quite large enough for one person to live in. Amaya's house was light brown, with darker brown for trim. Amaya unlocked the door and stepped onto a very small square of tile. "Please take off your shoes," said Amaya, doing the same herself, and stepping into the house. Killian was a little surprised, but did as she asked, discarding the Medieval style boots he'd borrowed from Aaron to wear while he worked at the faire. He realized, startled, he was still in garb. Had they gone to the faire only that morning?

For that matter, what time was it? He saw no clock, and carried no watch.

Once everyone had taken their shoes off, he asked Suisei what his watch said. "It's seven o'clock," he said.

Seven! Only seven! It seemed impossible. Killian shook his head and joined the rest of the group, sitting in a small living room with no furniture in it, and a mat on the floor that looked like it was made of straw or something similar. Amaya knelt on it, looking less furious, but her expression was still not friendly. "I am not used to people here," she said to them. "But is needed."

Killian felt mildly insulted, and wondered why she had suddenly become so unfriendly. Her ways had been different from his and Nohano's from the beginning, but her attitude now was downright hostile! Apparently noting Killian's expression (he was never good at hiding his feelings), Suisei whispered, "The traditionalists in Japan do not entertain people in their homes. It's considered rude to the guests."

Amaya frowned, but said nothing, while Killian digested this information. It made sense, he supposed, but it didn't explain her hostility.

"Well, all right," said Killian. "So...what are we supposed to do? I gotta say this is all new to me."

"It is war," said Amaya.

Her tone was not belligerent, not towards Killian, but her words sparked his temper at last. It normally took a great deal to ignite Killian's temper, but when it did erupt, it was like a tidal wave, and after she'd been so unkind to his best friend, his temper was more than ready to boil over. He brought his fist down on the strange straw mat, breaking several of its little strands, but he didn't care. He glared at Amaya, who looked shocked. "Do not dare lecture me of war!" he snarled. "In case you forgot, I come from Australia, being torn apart as we speak by a civil war that's half destroyed my bloody town! I've seen people cut down in the streets by laser fire, seen soldiers striking down bystanders as they ran for safety! I'd bet I've seen more death in the past year than you have your whole life!"

Everyone was staring at him, and he wondered in a very distracted way why they seemed so shocked. Amaya he understood, as she'd never seen him lose his temper before, but the others couldn't know how unusual this was for him, could they?

He wasn't finished, however. "I don't know where my mum and dad are, or even if they're alive," he said, his voice quieting, but no less furious. "My house was probably destroyed by the bloody tsunami that hit the northern coast, as if the war wasn't enough! I understand war, I understand it just fine. And you know, I swore I would never fight a war, never cause that much misery to people. And here I am, thrust headfirst into another war, and this time I have no choice but to fight! So just stop. Stop. Just like you hurt Nohano earlier, you've hurt me now, and it's uncalled for. Maybe you're able to put your feelings aside, but not all of us grew up being taught the ways of a warrior." He added with a great amount of sarcasm, "You have a slight advantage, being the daughter of a Ronin, and all."

Silence fell, and Killian closed his eyes, taking in a big breath, and calming his ire. He wished he had his fountain; back home, he'd had a fountain a foot high in his room, made of rocks and trickling water. It never failed to soothe him when he was scared or unhappy.

Amaya did something then that surprised Killian. She stood, and bowed very low to him. "I offer sincerest apologies, Zale-san," she said.

'Zalesan?' Killian wondered, caught very much wrongfooted. He glanced at Suisei, who seemed to know about these kinds of customs. "A title of respect," the older boy said quietly. "She's giving you a formal apology. You can bow back if you want, or just accept her apology, if you're willing." He smiled and gave a little "go on" gesture.

At first, Killian wasn't too inclined to accept the girl's apology, but a moment later felt ashamed of his spiteful thoughts. She'd been unkind, but that was no reason for him to return it now. Feeling awkward, and noting she'd not risen yet from her bow, Killian stood and imitated the bow.

Amaya glanced up, and managed to smile a little at Killian's gesture, before standing up again. "Thank you," she said, her tone a little less stiff.

Killian shrugged a little shyly, and nodded his head before they both sat back down.

Tarun spoke up, completely breaking the tension. "I have to pee."

Dead silence rung for only a second before nearly everyone began laughing, even Amaya. Killian caught sight of Demetrius listening perplexedly to his electronic translator, before he and Rashida began laughing as well. It had been a long, terrifying, horrible day, and after the boy's unashamedly irreverent declaration, it seemed no one could stop the laughter.

Tarun did not look offended in the least; on the contrary, he looked gleeful. Amaya managed to stop first, and directed the child down a small hallway. "On the left," she said. "Please to use the slippers outside."

Tarun nodded amiably enough and looked down at the floor outside the bathroom door. He shrugged and slipped the oversized garments onto his bare feet and slipped inside.

'We needed that,' thought Killian, shaking his head and wiping his eyes. 'We needed it badly. That child's got a wonderful gift.' He breathed in deeply, catching his breath, as the room began to quiet once more. But the tense, unhappy quality was gone for now.

Once Tarun had tended to Mother Nature's call and returned to the group, Amaya stood. "I am sorry," she said to the group. "I have been very rude. I will get drinks and food, and we can discuss what we must do." She gave a little bow, before disappearing into what Killian assumed was the kitchen, and a sudden realization struck him: 'It's her defense.' She was not normally so formal, so adherent to what must be the old ways of her country. He had seen it a little bit here and there the little time he'd known her, but now... 'She must be just as terrified as the rest of us. Taking courage from her traditions and her warrior ancestry must help her cope.' Unfortunately, it could be very hurtful to others.

His attention was caught by Demetrius, who had stood as if to go and help Amaya with her task, but Suisei caught his arm and spoke softly to him. Demetrius's device sounded something in Russian, and Demetrius frowned, but sat back down.

"That's really cool," said Killian, referring to the translator, which was small enough to be worn like a wristwatch.

Demetrius was able to answer, though it took far longer than normal conversation would. He said it had been a gift from his mother when he left Russia, and had been the most useful item he had ever had in his life. "Rashida and I are trying very hard to learn English," the mechanical voice of the translator declared for him. "It is difficult."

"I bet it is!" Killian only knew English; he had been taking German in school, but didn't know nearly enough to understand it spoken! Still, the translator made things easier; it was the latest model, one that could translate spoken words in real time, and seemed to "know" all of the current slang. It made mistakes now and then, but nothing too bad.

The conversation was light, until Amaya came out with an attractive serving tray with two large pitchers of what looked like lemonade on it. A stock of plastic glasses and a plate of cookies sat in the middle, and she set the tray in the middle of the circle. She seemed about to start handing the treats out, but finally she smiled faintly and gestured to the tray, indicating they should help themselves.

Killian gladly accepted the offer, grabbing two cookies and glass full of lemonade. He was suddenly aware of how ravenous he was as he bit into the cookie, which turned out to be peanut-butter. "Thank you," he said to her, rather rudely through a mouthful of cookie. She blinked, but then seemed to stifle an amused smirk, and nodded in reply. He noticed the Middle Eastern girl had also quite eagerly grabbed a couple of cookies. She looked a little faint, which concerned Killian, but he decided a moment later she just needed something to eat. He didn't know how long it had been since her last meal.

Once everyone had a bit in their stomachs, they began to discuss what had happened at the faire. They each shared a bit of their story, how they'd found their armor, how they'd gotten to California, and what they'd learned of what powers their armor had. Some of them knew quite a bit, while others had only managed to learn how to form the underneath gear. Rashida was a good deal of help in this, saying through the translator that the full armor responded to one of three things: the correct verbal call, a strong influx of the element the armor associated with, or a strong will to become one with the armor. "I have learned the call for my armor, and Demetrius's." The girl pulled her armor orb from the pocket of her worn breeches, and leaned over so she could hold the orb in the middle of the group. "Look closely," said the translator after she'd spoken. "Look at the smoke. At the design."

Killian peered at the sphere, startled to realize that within the swirling mist shone a faint Japanese character, and he dug his own sphere out. "Strewth, I never noticed that!" he exclaimed.

"It is a clue to your armor's alliance." This was from Demetrius, who had put on his glasses, peering at his own sphere. "Rashida's is 'kourin', which means several things. But for hers it's 'halo.' Mine is earth, or stone. Its name, its call, is 'kongou'. Not merely stone and light, but diamond and halo. It's a superlative of stone and light, I guess."

"It's a what?" asked Tarun, laughing at the strange word.

"Superlative," explained Suisei. "A superlative is like...a very big version of something. Excellent is a superlative of good."

"Oh!" The boy grinned, looking eagerly to Demetrius. "What would mine be? I can get the armor just by wanting it...I did that way that you guys said. But I don't know its name!"

"I don't know," said Demetrius with a chuckle, that, strangely, the translator also repeated. Killian blinked at this oddity. "What is your armor's affinity?"

"Sun!" said the boy. "Or day. I don't know what one."

Killian listened quietly, very interested in the conversation, and wondered idly what his would be. Not water, surely, that was too mild. But... "Torrent," he said quietly. The Dynasty jerks, they'd called him "Torrent." That was definitely a superlative of "water". He looked up at Amaya, who sat across from him. "How would you say the word 'torrent' in Japanese?"

Amaya frowned. "I'm not sure," she said. "I do not know exactly what a torrent would be...a rush of water?"

"Yeah, pretty much...I'm not sure I know another word for it, really."

"'Se', maybe," she said doubtfully. "Like the fast water in a river. Or doshaburi, heavy rain."

That sounded like it could be it...Killian supposed he wouldn't know until they tried.

"Oh...and Sanada Ryo was my great grandfather, not my father."

"Oh, sorry," said Killian distractedly. "I hadn't remembered which one. So doshaburi—so you just call out the name, or what?"

"Maybe that's best for another time," said Rashida. "Perhaps for now we should recover from our fight. Some of us will need to find lodging, and we will need to exchange information like phone numbers, so we will be able to call one another if something happens."

"That's a good idea," said Killian. "We need to know more about this bloody Dynasty, too...like what do they want? Amaya, you said last time they attacked one of the major cities in Japan? He's trying to take over the world or something?" Amaya nodded. "Why the blazes did they attack a small town like this, then?" Killian mused. "Were they just after us?"

"Probably," said Xander, the first thing he'd said after mentioning he'd left home because of his parents' divorce and consequent bad behavior. "You heard that one jerk-off, he pointed you and the Hawaiian kid out right away. They targeted you too. Not that they limited their attacks on us. They seemed to like hurting people."

"Bastards," Killian spat. He sighed, sitting back, and taking a sip of his lemonade. Then he frowned. A most peculiar feeling came upon him then: a miserable unhappiness, but detached, as if he were tuning in on someone else. He blinked, sitting up straight, and frowning, trying to identify the feeling. "What the hell."

"What's wrong?" asked Suisei.

"I don't know." The feeling was getting stronger, filled with resentment and guilt. And for some insane reason, it reminded Killian of Nohano. "I think—I think I'm feeling someone! I mean—I mean mentally, like telepathy, or--" As soon as he'd said it, he knew that it was true, as bizarre as it was. He was feeling Nohano's emotions, broadcasted like a radio wave!

"Is that even possible?" asked Suisei.

"Yes!" said Tarun with a grin.

"You think everything is possible," said Suisei with a fond smile.

"Yes," Tarun agreed. "Because it is!"

Killian barely heard this exchange; the misery in his head was a very distracting thing, and he stood up. "I've gotta find him, something's happened. I dunno what, but I gotta get to him." Worry clenching at his gut, he said to Amaya, "You know where to find us, right?"

"Well, yes," said Amaya, frowning. She seemed put out by his departure, but seemed to be honoring their recent truce and keeping quiet about it. "But how will you find him?"

"I dunno yet," said Killian, hurrying for the door and grabbing his boots. "I'll see." Waving briefly to the rest of the group, Killian hurried out into the street.

Once he was away from the others, Killian was able to feel Nohano's presence much more clearly. Echoes of what had made his friend so happy flashed across Killian's mind, a voice yelling at Nohano, accusing him of being responsible for Robert's death. A flash of anger, then guilt, as Nohano ran from the building.

Killian stopped at the end of the street, closing his eyes and calming himself, trying not to let Nohano's roiling emotions affect him. A sudden impulse struck, and he began thinking of water, languid, cleansing water. He thought of soothing things, comfort and friendship and safety. He smiled as he began to feel the mental fire die down, calming. Not doused, but soothed. 'Nohano?' he thought tentatively.

Surprise, and a bit of fear, but no response. Killian was both astounded and elated. He was using telepathy! Real telepathy! And it seemed to be almost instinct! 'Where are you?' he thought.

Again there was no reply, but an alien feeling of direction suddenly veered into his mind, and he wondered suddenly if that's how a compass felt. Chuckling quietly at the comparison, he heeded the pull, pulling on his boots, and breaking into a jog.