Storm Girls (The Juniper Wars Book 4), Aaron Ritchey [best beach reads txt] 📗

The woman took it in stride. “Sure, guy. Take as long as you need.” She motioned to a colorful carpet three feet long and two feet wide.

He sat down cross-legged on the mat and got into position. He’d lost all his flexibility, so he couldn’t get his legs on top of his feet. He put his hands in his lap, his fingers on his left hand resting on the palm of his right. His thumbs were close to touching but he made sure they didn’t. That was part of the cycling process. He focused on his breathing and tried to clear his mind, but that wasn’t going to happen. His emotions bucked like a horse.

He thought of a high school teacher who had made his class read a section of The Pranad, based upon an ancient Hindu text called the Katha Upanishad. The sacred Battle Artist book said the body was like the chariot while the horses were the senses and the reins were the mind. The driver was the intellect. The master of the entire chariot was the piece of the divine inside him. Some called it the Self, but others called it prana.

He tried to keep his mind in the moment. He tried to do one round of the Duodecim, starting with the Sanguine Battle Sign, and he counted his breaths to twelve. He wasn’t even at six and his mind started to wander.

He wasn’t going to be able to cycle his prana like he had when he was fighting every weekend in the junior academic leagues. No, his core of energy was sluggish, partially frozen, and woefully out of shape. It was like when he’d first started, but even then, in first grade, at his local Arena, he’d had the excitement of youth, and dreams, such dreams. Life was a magical adventure where the Arts did seem like magic, and Artists were the greatest superheroes. They did important things in the anime he’d watched. It was all so exciting, and the promise was there, the promise as big as life itself.

The promise had ended with Taylor Sebastian, and his senior year in high school.

Niko knew he wasn’t going to be able to get around the memories, the regrets, the worst decisions of his life, and the worst nights. His concentration crumbled away as the emotions swept through him.

He stood up abruptly.

The woman with dreadlocks had a customer lying on her table, but she gave him a soft look. Her hands glowed a soft silver color, and that silver leaked into the man lying there, through his clothes. She gave him a slight nod.

He nodded back.

Niko walked out of the stall. He wasn’t much to look at, a little under six feet tall, a strong if slightly soft fame, a normal twenty-three old guy with dark hair and muddy green eyes. A light stubble shadowed his jawline, which wasn’t as strong as it used to be. Living and working near a noodle house gave him too easy access to too many carbs.

Yet, he knew that little bit of focus had woken up his core.

He drifted to a wall, leaned against it, and closed his eyes. Before the memories of Taylor had wiped away his concentration, he’d managed to get a little energy up into his fists and it was flowing through him, but it wasn’t the feeling of power, speed, and strength he’d known before. It was there, though. It was enough. He was limited to his First Study technique, his offensive ability. He’d take a couple on the chin, throw a nice series of punches, and then this Stan Howling would knock him down to the tiles.

Niko didn’t mind physical pain. It was better than emotional torture. He’d take a beating and then get on with his life. However, Maddy owed him big.

Teddy came over to Niko’s place on the wall and grabbed his shoulder. “Okay, Niko, I’ve been talking to people. Stan Howling isn’t that tough. I think you might be able to take him.”

Leave it to Teddy Martinez to complicate everything with his dumb, misplaced optimism.

Chapter Two: The Friend

Niko and Teddy stood near a display of classic comics in a tall glass case.

One caught Niko’s eye, an old Marvel edition of A Princess of the Changing Winds. It was probably the book—the original novel and not the comic adaptation—that had changed Niko’s life the most. He’d read it in the third grade. And then reread it every summer after.

He’d forgotten there had been a comic book run of the novel in the 1970s. The colors were bright, and the illustrations not quite right. The princess, the sage old teacher in the book, had always been older in Niko’s imagination. Seeing the characters gave Niko a bad case of nostalgia.

Teddy snapped his fingers in front of Niko’s face. “Focus. We both can’t afford anything in those cases. And those old Marvel editions of Princess only had the flash and not the flesh of the story. So, let’s talk about Stan Howling.”

“Maddy said he isn’t too terrible. But that name. Stan Howling. What is he?” Niko asked.

Teddy wiped his face. If Teddy was walking, he was sweating. “He’s a Third and Fourth Study Sunfire, Mars Belt, but close to Venus.”

“A Sunfire?” Niko wondered. “With that name?”

“Artist names are like band names. It’s easy to come up with bad ones. I think he was going for the surprise name. Like, I’m Stan Howling, and I could be any Battle Sign, and you won’t know until I throw my first fireball.”

“Third and Fourth Studies,” Niko repeated. “That’s odd as well.”

Third Study was offensive prana attacks. Fourth Study was for defensive energy skills. It was a little strange that he didn’t have First Study abilities, since most people started there, imbuing their punches and kicks with prana. That was the traditional way to do things.

Before his terrible decision, Niko had been a Mars Belt Quintessence, with First and Second Studies; he’d had a physical attack as well as a defensive