The Battle for Olympus

Reyna

Slam! Reyna's knife hit the center of the target. She picked up another from the table next her and twirled it in her fingers. It's metal blade glinted as she brought it back and released it. Slam! It joined its twin in the center of the target.

"Geez," Anissa said, coming up behind her. "Got someone's face in mind?"

"Oh I've got a whole list." Slam! This one clipped the inner circle.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Anissa asked in her centurion voice.

Reyna rolled her eyes. "That used to work. Now I know when I'm being handled." She drew another knife.

"You know, they have moving targets if you want them. It's a lot more fun."

"Please. You only say that because you have the record."

Slam! This knife hit about halfway up.

Anissa was a brilliant knife thrower. When she was Reyna's centurion, she took her to New Rome's target range all the time. It was designed like a bowling alley, a set of twenty targets and a weapons rental/concession stand behind the counter. A great way to relieve stress, but not the solution to the problem.

"Fair enough." Anissa adjusted the ring on her middle finger. Reyna knew that ring turned into a wicked throwing knife. A gift from Venus, Anissa's mother. "Still, whatever it is you're working out is not on the target."

"Maybe not." Reyna picked up another knife. "But this is a lot easier." She chucked this one forward and it nicked the outer edge. "Shit!"

"Reyna." Anissa caught her wrist as she reached for the last knife. "Tell me what's going on."

A part of Reyna wanted to spill her guts to her old friend. But the other part told her to handle it. She agreed to be praetor, this was her responsibility. "It's fine," Reyna brushed Anissa's hand off. "Just praetor stuff."

"If you say so." Anissa grabbed Reyna's last knife and tossed it from hand to hand. "Watch this." Faster than Reyna could blink, Anissa threw the knife backhanded across the room. It flew beautifully, glinting off the fluorescent lights towards the concession stand. The man behind the counter, Joe, Reyna remembered, had just passed a hot dog across the counter and was in the middle of taking change when Anissa's knife wizzed by his hand and slammed into the light switch. The entire concession stand went dark and Joe flinched so hard the change flew out of his hand.

"Anissa!" he yelled. "One of these times I'm going to kick your ass out."

"And risk losing your favorite customer?" Anissa shook her head in mock disappointment. "Admit it. You love having me back."

"What I love is running my stand in peace." He paused. "But nice shot though." He wiped his fingers on his apron and flicked the light switch back on.

Reyna grimaced. "Really? I thought your days of torturing Joe were over."

"I'm never done. I've known him for ten years, I get some privileges. Besides," Anissa bumped Reyna's shoulder, "I've got the praetor of New Rome with me. I can do what I want."

"Yeah-" Reyna rotated her shoulder, a little sore from the knife throwing- "that's not how it works."

"Bummer. Hey, you up for a sparring match? For old times sake," Anissa added.

Reyna glanced at the clock. She didn't have to run any battle drills for at least hour, and she didn't feel like going back to the senate. "Why not?"

The mat smelled just like Reyna remembered, sweat and rubber with a hint of cool breeze from the skylights. Anissa leaned back against the wall and stretched the tape over her knuckles, raising an eyebrow when Reyna made eye contact.