For the second time in thirty years, the entire world has fallen asleep...
Thirty years after the Greymen caused the decimation of her people, high school drop out Rain Collins spends her days learning to pickpocket and hold her booze. Yet she long...
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We stopped just outside the stadium as a great roar erupted from within.
"What is that yelling? Are Greymen in the city?" I asked, looking toward the giant dome.
Jacob laughed. "Of course not. Sounds like a duel."
Billy whooped. "Finally! It's been ages."
He took off at a run into the stadium, leaving the rest of us behind. After a quick glance at Beth, Jacob took off through the mouth of the dome, close on Billy's heels. I stared after them, confused.
"Come on," Kayle said with a grin. "You'll like this. The old Dreamcallers practice together and let the people watch."
Beth and I followed my best friend through the stadium's entrance, where a tall man met us and asked for our ticket fare. Kayle laughed and conjured a coin, then pressed it into his hand, mentioning Billy and Jacob's names and descriptions. He frowned, so Kayle conjured a second coin, then a third. Finally, the man smiled at his handful of worthless change and nodded, then led us into the stadium proper. The ways some people cling to normalcy just aren't normal.
Stands had been raised in a circle around the outer rim and the stadium was full of dreamers, all clad in a different shade of green. The makeshift stands swayed as the crowd moved, a living green sea. It looked like the entire city had come out to watch the fight, cheering wildly and stomping their feet, shaking the stands below them.
The tall man ushered us up to an almost empty bench, where Billy and Jacob already sat. We joined the others on the bench and turned to see what all the fuss was about.
In the center of the arena, two men circled each other. One wore a green robe that hung past his feet, pooling on the ground. The other worse a tuxedo.
"Dad?" I said, leaning forward to get a better look.
It was him. His beard shone as though he'd oiled it and his tuxedo looked starched and pressed, but that was my father, the sad sack farmer finally a Knight of the Night once more.
I jumped to my feet and cheered. "Go, Dad!"
We all clapped as the fighters continued to circle each other. My father's opponent faced us now and I couldn't mistake that broad chest, those grey eyes. The Speaker.
"Wow," I said, clapping harder. "Go, Speaker!"
As I cheered, the Speaker leapt up, shooting like a bullet through the air. He disappeared into the sky in a second, but my father stared up into the blue with a grin. He took a step to the side and bowed as the Speaker landed with a thunderous boom beside him. I could hardly hear my own cheers over the crowd.
"Ned! Ned! Ned!" they roared, stomping their feet and clapping their hands.
The Speaker lay crumpled in a heap, dazed from the impact. Honorably, my father backed off waited for his opponent to regain his footing before attacking. Honorable, but not foolish. The moment the Speaker was on his feet, my father leapt forward, swinging his arm down. As his arm whipped through the air, a long stick appeared in his hands. Just before the stick smacked into the Speaker, something that looked like a brick popped out of the stick's head. It was a great hammer. It hit the Speaker in the back, launching him off of his feet and into the air. He howled in pain, but turned fiercely when he landed, as if unharmed.
