Chapter 40: Volume II: Chapter 7: The Hornet

The Pride led Will to a congested patch of trees. Twisted white and brown trunks reached toward a canopy of green blocking out all but a few rays of sun. Will could still hear the occasional sound drift in from the sparring match. The pair called as they left were the highest ranked recruits in their class. It would last a while.

“Do you see the target?” the Pride asked his green skin glowing brighter in the dim forest.

Will followed where he pointed and spotted a metal plaque half-hidden in the foliage. Branches and a few trunks stood in the way of a clear shot.

“Sep, Sen,” he confirmed.

“Hit it.”

Will raised a brow, taking a step forward. He pulled a bee out of his back pouch. The trees created a natural shelter so using the wind for a bend shot was out of the question. He’d have to put it through the small gap between a split trunk and a few low hanging branches.

He lined up the shot and let it fly. Ding, buzz, it hit. He turned back to the Pride.

He grunted his approval. “Next is from the Crow’s Nest.” He pointed up. Will spotted the small platform balanced precariously among the closest tree’s branches. He forced his face blank.

“Uh, is there an option to hit it from here?”

The Pride stared at him, amusement flickering across his face. “Successful Beekeepers always seek the best vantage point. For the next target, that would be the Crow’s Nest.”

Will hesitated. He’d had his fill of heights for the morning. It was supposed to be a sparring session, no climbing in sight, just a regular, old-fashioned beat up on the slow, clumsy human day. His shoulders sagged as he took a step toward the tree. It didn’t even have a decent ladder, just a series of easily reachable branches.

“I’ll tell you what, Novi,” the Pride cut in, stopping Will in his tracks. “If you can hit the target from here on your first try, you can stay on the ground.”

“Deal.” Will turned eager to keep his feet firmly planted on the forest floor. He searched for the next plaque, coming up short. “Where’s the target?”

The Pride let out an indulgent chuckle, “The bottom of the tree trunk 80 meters, that way. Do you see the one marked with a red flag?”

Will squinted through the congested path, glimpsing a small slash of red. “Yes, I see it.”

“The plaque is directly below it even with the ground.”

“Right.” Will’s mouth went dry. Doubt crept in despite his continuously perfect record. He pulled his goggles down sending a quiet thank you to Merk.

The pilot had passed him a few days after the girls’ shopping trip, throwing the new pair in his lap. “I’m tired of listening to Mic go on about your backwood Luna fashion sense,” he’d said. “Try to wrap your tech-addled mind around the interface and don’t break them.”

Will had raised an eyebrow at his friend’s retreating back, then went to find Chleo to muddle through their new gadgets together.

The goggle interface came to life the moment it closed over his eyes. Reading his cornea, it unlocked, popping preset options onto the lenses. He chose a custom setting he and Chleo talked Mic into loading onto their sets after hearing him brag about it.

The trees became outlines, metal targets remaining solid. He counted ten in the surrounding area. Focusing on the only one that mattered, he examined its placement gaging the angles needed.

“That should work,” he muttered. Grabbing another bee and lining it up, the doubt he’d felt earlier melted away. He let out a breath to steady his hand and let it fly.

One, two, three, four, five, he watched it collide with the last branch overhanging the target. It ricocheted, shooting directly center. Another second passed before the faint ding reached them. Will turned, catching unrestrained disbelief on the Pride’s face before he wiped it blank.

“Again,” he demanded.

Will re-sighted, letting his doubts and fears bleed away. He shot, its path identical. Another command, another hit, it repeated until only one marble remained in the pouch, his perfect record still intact.

“Good, Novi. Again.”

“Sep, Sen. Only,” he hesitated, no recruit was to ever be without at least one bee, “I need to collect.”

The Pride showed him half a smile. Will had the distinct impression that he’d just passed some unspoken test. “You have five minutes.”

Will took off, flipping his goggles back to a normal view with a flick of his eyes. The underbrush slowed his dash considerably. By the time he reached the target with a neat pile of bees resting at the bottom, he had seconds to collect them. Scooping them into his pouch he thanked the Star for his aim, and dashed back. He hoped the run would be enough time for the Beekeeping pouch to recharge the bees.

“Seconds to spare, Novi,” the Pride acknowledged. “Now, the next target. The Crow’s Nest is still an option if you require it. Begin.”

Will followed his pointing hand to the next location, flipping the goggles back to Mic’s custom view. The plaque jumped into sight. It sat closer than the previous shot, but plastered to the opposite side of the tree’s trunk. He examined the surrounding elements, lining up a bee. He sighed in relief at the slight vibration resting on his thumb. The pouch did its job and recharged it. He flicked.

The bee collided with three branches and one trunk before the successful ding, buzz echoed with finality. On it went. The Pride pointed out a target, each one harder than the last, Will emptied his pouch until one remained, he dashed to collect, then they repeated with a new plaque.

It was near mid-day when Will remember the sparring tournament. It was the first time he’d made it through the first round, and while he wasn’t exactly eager to have one of the bigger recruits crack his ribs, he also wanted to practice reading the tell he’d noticed. After finishing the last target his goggles picked up, he decided to ask.

“You are a Beekeeper,” the Pride replied. “You belong here, not in the sparring circle.”

“But-,” he started before a familiar voice interrupted from behind.

“The kid giving you trouble, Malek?”

The Pride snapped to attention as Merk pushed through the underbrush to join them.

“Nip, Sen.”

“Then you’re already doing better than our crew.” Merk winked at Will. “Status?”

Pride Malek stood straight as a board. “All ten targets accounted for, Sen.”

“Misses?”

The Pride hesitated. “None, Sen.”

Merk’s eyebrows shot up. “None?” He threw something in Neonian at the end striking up a quick discernible conversation. It ended with an impressed whistle. “Well, kid, it looks like I was right to set you up with my team.”

“Your team?” Will asked recovering from Pride Malek’s reaction to his friend’s appearance.

Merk clapped him on his shoulder. “What? You thought they just let you join the recruits on a whim. You’re old,” then added as an afterthought, “and human.”

You are reading story Neon Chronicles at novel35.com

He turned back to Pride Malek still unflinchingly rigid. “Your assessment?”

“He is slow and quick to frighten,” the Pride said barely concealing a sneer. Will forced his face blank. He thought he’d been doing better. “But,” the Pride continued looking down at him from the corner of his eye, “he is dependable and his skill is undeniable. Pass, Sen.”

“Good.” Merk gave a nod. “Din and Moshi are in the circle now. I left the bracket on the flagpole. Dismissed Pride Malek.”

“Sep, Sen.” He turned on his heel and left, every movement correct and unyielding.

Merk shook his head. “How can someone so good at Beekeeping be such a buzzkill?”

“Um-,” Will started unsure if he was supposed to answer.

“Doesn’t matter. You passed, kid. You know what that means?”

Will opened his mouth to answer, coming up blank. He didn’t even know there was a test to pass. “I’m good at angles?” He shrugged his words searching.

Merk boomed out a laugh. “Ain’t that the truth. No, it means you can start hornet training,” he said it with a grand presenting voice that would have been more in place coming from Mic. Will stared at him blankly.

The proud smile spitting Merk’s face melted into a grumble about humans not knowing anything and that lunas were worse. Will was too confused to be offended.

“What’s a hornet?” he asked. Merk’s smile returned with an excited spark.

“This,” he said pulling a small ball from his pouch, “is a hornet.”

It sat in his hand three sizes smaller than a regular bee, blue and black stripes replacing the usual metallic gleam.

“Blue,” Merk explained, “to remember, they are only to be used with a clear head and true aim. Black, to remember they are never, under any circumstances, used to kill. Horrible luck follows anyone foolish enough to try. There’s no truer curse to be had, or so they say.”

Will, pulled closer by the promise of something new, took a step back.

“Kill? Bees can’t kill people. They don’t have enough charge.”

“No,” Merk confirmed, rolling the small ball between his fingers, “but hornets do.” He tossed it a few centimeters up, and it stuck midair waiting to be claimed. “They’re programmed to a single individual. Anyone else trying to touch it would receive a zap big enough to bring down a horse. They’re too dangerous, you see, only trusted to the most skilled and ethical among us.” Merk gave him a look. “They’re a big deal. People are honored to train with them. You’re honored right now.”

“Right, very honored,” Will shot him a smile prying his eyes off the hypnotizing ball floating in front of him.

“Good. Ground rules: Never shoot it at a human. Your puny bodies can’t take it, and remember rule color black-”

“No killing,” Will repeated with him.

“Right. Next, no one other than you is allowed to touch it. Other than the zap, there are some who would want to steal the design. We can’t allow it. Only those chosen and trained can touch their hornet.” He paused giving Will a hard look. “That means Chleo, Will. I love the girl, but she can’t beekeep worth an umbra.”

Will nodded. He didn’t want her to get zapped anyway. Talking her out of studying it would be a challenge, but he’d manage.

“Last, and this is the most important, kid, only shoot if you have the shot. Friendly fire is inexcusable and will see your hornet in the trash bin next to the hand that flicked it. Understand?”

Will swallowed, eyes once again glued on the floating ball shimmering blue and black in the filtered light.

“I understand.”

“Good, take it.”

Will glanced at Merk, making sure there wasn’t a hidden prank somewhere in the order. He seemed serious. Will reached a hand forward, hesitating above the floating weapon. With a breath he closed his fingers around it.

A shock ripped through him, dropping him to a knee. His hand seized around the undersized marble refusing to let go. Another shock radiated up his arm. His teeth clenched as he fought to stay upright. By the time the last shock rippled through him, he was ready to fall over and let himself pass out. Still his hand refused to open.

Merk’s hand clapped his shoulder, throwing and steadying him in equal measure. “It’s not great with first impressions, but here on out it’ll be your best friend in a bind.”

Will’s lungs released as the shocks wore off forcing out a hoarse cough. “I already have one of those,” he complained glaring at the ball still clenched in his fist. “Do I have to do that for an entire bag?” He felt miserable and sorely hoped not. Honored or not, there was only so much he was willing to take.

Merk laughed, “Nah, kid, it’s not like Beekeeping. A Hornet Master only ever needs one.”

Will shot him a look, one part skeptical, two parts relief. Merk responded by kicking his clenched hand. The hornet went flying, smacking into a nearby tree. A black scorch mark seared the bark where it hit.

“What was that for?” Will asked, trying to keep his voice neutral instead of exasperated.

“Whistle,” Merk said with a smirk.

Will closed his eyes, giving up on keeping his mask in place, and asked the Star for patience. “What?”

“Go on,” Merk sounded like a kid on Lux Diem showing off his new toy. “Whistle. You’ll like it, I promise.”

Will glared at him. Merk smiled back, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. Rolling his eyes, Will turned toward the hornet.

Pulling his lips tight, he forced air around his tongue and through his teeth. A high-pitched whistle echoed through the trees. The leaves at the base of the scorched trunk rustled, and suddenly an angry hornet burst from the pile flying straight at his face.

The reflexes he’d been honing for the past month responded, throwing a hand out to pluck the unruly ball out of the air. It settled on contact, resting comfortably in his palm. He turned to Merk.

“Seriously?”

His friend shrugged. “I wanted to see what you would do. Looks like training is paying off.” He turned walking a few paces into the cluster of trees leaving Will no choice but to follow. “The rest of the day you’ll be shooting. One hundred hits for each target. I want your aim perfect before you leave the field. Understood?”

“Yes.” Merk raised an eyebrow. Will grumbled under his breath before plastering an overly cheery smile on his face. “Sep, Sen.”

“Good. Did I mention it’s self charging?”

Will groaned as all hope for a break died.

You can find story with these keywords: Neon Chronicles, Read Neon Chronicles, Neon Chronicles novel, Neon Chronicles book, Neon Chronicles story, Neon Chronicles full, Neon Chronicles Latest Chapter