Sparks

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  My fifteenth summer passed, and like the ships of Lagodon Cove, I could only sit by and watch as everyone moved on without me. It started with Parvani: she finally got the yield she'd needed out of Patna once he was released. She started Round Three before the snows had fully melted.

  Micha followed, soon after, and earned his yields here and there. He beat others fairly, and worked to be better when he lost. It was my choice entirely to throw our match. There was no way he could beat me-I knew him too well-and his thoughts always stood out above the crowd. I played out our fight, though, and made it look good when I finally yielded to him. Then he, too, was gone.

  When Shaz came back in the heat of the summer, he challenged everyone except for me. He would watch me through his misshapen eye, his hatred harbored in his fists. We fought twice: I earned a yield on the first, and he got one from me on the second. I'd like to say I let him win, but in the end, he managed to get me on my back again. I had my suspicions that he used his influence over the earth to make me slip, but no good could have come if I told anyone. I was the last student for him, so he moved on like the others.

  The true challenge for the summer was Khea. We fought nearly every day, or at least every other day, for a span of several weeks-and neither would yield. She was a small target to hit, faster than anyone I'd ever seen, and she never missed a block. I had thrown hundreds of punches and never landed a single one. Always, I barely managed to escape with all my limbs intact. She was good; she was better than me, and it was only a matter of time.

  We were both obstinate, though, and-despite her speed-she couldn't beat me. We waited on who would yield first, and I wondered why she didn't just kindly give hers to me. I took an extra summer of combat training for what I'd done to Shaz, but she just wouldn't give in. Wasn't that enough for her? I couldn't help but think it, but I knew it wasn't her fault. I didn't want her to give up anyway; I wanted to become better than her on my own-but I couldn't, and the frustration began to burn a hole.

  Our fights increased in pace, our punches became faster and truer, but still neither of us would yield. By the end of summer, my anger toward her burned white-hot. She was my last yield, but she wouldn't give in. Finally, in the middle of one of our desperate fights, I gave up. She threw a punch at me, and I didn't block. I gave her my yield before I even touched the ground. At least I wouldn't have to see her around the combat area anymore.

  With Khea moved on to the next round, there was no one left for me to fight. I lay in bed and refused to get up or go to the combat area again. There was nothing left for me there; I would just have to wait out the rest of the fall as my anger simmered in my room.

  Avis knocked, and then pushed his way in to give me a look that said he disapproved of my choice. I should have known I wouldn't get the chance.

  "You've completed Round Two," he said.

  "No, I haven't."

  "You defeated all the other students."

  "There's no frost on the ground. You of all people should know." I knew it wasn't wise to talk to Avis that way, but I didn't care. He could do what he wanted.

  "For the rest of the season you'll be with me."

  "I'm not allowed to go to Round Three." Doesn't he remember? It was yet another cruel trick from my loving mentor.

  "You're not. You'll continue combat training. With me." You can't be serious.

  "I'm not going to fight you."

  "Fine. You think you know everything, Sir rule-breaker? If you can get me to the ground, I'll leave you alone until the frost. You have my word."

  I jumped up then, with only my loose brown bottoms on, and attacked. In an instant, he grabbed my wrist, spun me around, and slammed my chin into the floor. What the hell was that?

  "Come on," Avis mocked, "you'll never get me to the ground with those scrawny arms." I'm not that small anymore. As a matter of fact, I'd grown at least an inch since winter and gained enough weight to hide most of my bones.

  And so, the rest of summer-and the start of autumn-continued in a blur. Avis forced me to eat and beat me in turns. He never faltered, never created openings, and never missed a block. He was like Khea, in that respect, only I couldn't fake a yield to get out of it-and he never showed an ounce of mercy. We fought everywhere: in my room, the combat training area, the gardens, and even at the library once. I could never get close to him, much less put him on the ground.

  I was trapped in a prison of defeat and frustration, and even if it started to snow in the middle of fall it wouldn't have made a difference. I couldn't hit him. I was just stuck.

  One cool, foggy morning I met Avis by the lake on the eastern side of the school grounds. "Did you eat?" he asked patiently.

  "Yes, of course I ate." Even as I voiced my annoyance at his constant insistence to take me to the dining hall for meals, I knew it was doing the trick. Muscle started to fill out my body, and I'd grown even taller. As if I'd ever tell him that.

  "Ready to get beat again?"

  It was a simple question, but it was also that little bit extra that pushed me over the edge. I'd been destroyed on a daily basis by him for three months, if not longer. I couldn't beat Khea, I couldn't beat him, I couldn't do anything right. My mind filled with rage, and I flew at him. By the time my thoughts cleared, I was on his chest, and continued to beat on his face. Is he laughing?

  "Alright, alright! You win! I yield!"

  I slumped over onto the grass beside Avis and breathed the cool air deep into my lungs. What happened, did I just do that? I was shocked to see blood smeared across my knuckles and even more shocked to see Avis's face. Blood streamed down his cheek and dripped onto his grey shirt. His lip didn't look too good either, but he just laughed. "I guess you're ready for Round Three," he finally said.

  "What's so funny?"

  "I was starting to think you'd never do it."

  "Why's that funny?"

  He seemed to immediately sober up at the prospect of having to explain himself. "Never mind."

  "So what now?"

  "Now we wait for the frost."

  The snow stuck by the end of the week, and Avis showed up in his mysterious fashion to leave my second stripe across the corner of my dresser. More than a year, I couldn't help but notice. At this rate, I'll have twenty summers before I get my pendant.