He was at least nine feet tall with dark skin and a body made entirely of muscle. He had high cheek bones, a chiseled jawline, coal-black eyes with a scar that meandered over his left eyebrow. His presence filled the room. He was Mars, the God of War.
Máurso, as he was known in the Old Language, examined me thoughtfully, his enormous hand rubbing his chin.
“Aye,” he said skeptically, “you are well-built, if a bit short.”
I tried my best to stand at attention in the center of the rambling Dáu Xhà, set in a strip mall between Maxie Mart and La La’s Nail Salon across from BHS. Outside, the Dáu Xhà looked like an ordinary storefront with glass windows emblazoned with posters that publicized martial arts for health, longevity and protection. Inside, the Dáu Xhà was large enough to house a football field, a pool, and a separate area filled with weightlifting equipment and what appeared to be a dance studio. The aesthetic was Roman temple chic—marble columns, flaming urns, statues of various immortals; Aveana, Goddess of forests, Pàsadono, God of the oceans, Telémalora, Goddess of land. And the statues, it turned out, talked, a lot.
“Look at this numpty.” Telémalora’s statue scanned me head-to-toe .
Aveana shrugged. “Máurso is losing his golden touch.”
I stuck my tongue out at them. They grunted and fell silent.
“Can you lift weights?”
“Bench press four hundred, Dáumo.”
“Small, powerful.”
“Almost five eight, Your Majesty.”
Máurso glanced at me. “Dáumo here, lad.”
“Okay, Dáumo.” I changed the subject. “How is this space so big?”
“Qu’el of course,” Máurso said. “It is just the right size for an Immortal such as myself, laddie.” Máurso stroked the black fur of a cat sitting on his shoulder, its tail wrapped around his neck. Another cat lounged in an empty cardboard box nearby, while another slithered among the stone arches soaring overhead. I scanned the room counting at least twenty cats sleeping, stalking invisible enemies, or sitting on top of various equipment or on students resting between sets.
“This is where we learn to battle monsters,” Máurso explained. “The physical body is the most important tool for a Coaugelu. Using mind, body, and soul to withstand Malac Malactańena and keep Ordinaries safe. You must be alert, agile, and think quick. There’s no time to cast or conjure or summon, lad.”
I frowned. Máurso moved on. “That pool is for training to battle water monsters. Cràcoas, you know? Above, is where we train to battle flying monsters such as those blasted Àzmadus.”
I fidgeted nervously next to Máurso, taking in the room. Barn and Austin were on the turf behind us practicing escrimago, a tactical move to dodge monsters in the field. The room was filled with the sound of shouting and hollering. The ruckus of fifty Coaugelus from as young as five to as old as eighteen learning their craft.
Máurso’s cat jumped off his shoulder and circled me, then rubbed against my leg.
“Oi, look at that, appears you have Pumpkin’s blessing.” He conjured a slushie out of the air, then put the straw to his mouth. He chugged it down in one second flat, the plastic cup deflating in his large hand.
“I love slushies, laddie,” Máurso said, flinging the cup into the air, where it transformed into a white dove that flitted over to an overgrown rainforest behind bleachers near the locker rooms.
“Yeah, I heard,” I mumbled. “Is that a rainforest?”
Thunder rumbled. Rain began falling. Birds and monkeys chittered.
“Aye,” Máurso said, “I have a fondness for animals.” He led me around the field. “And plants. Bought a few dracaenas from a big retailer, and, well, they somehow turned into that wee forest. Not sure how.”
“Maybe because you’re a god.”
Máurso paused, rubbed his chin, then threw his head back and laughed loudly. The entire room trembled. A cat fell off one of the arches overhead. The lights flickered.
“You’re funny, Elijah,” Máurso said, “and tense. I can tell. Don’t be, laddie.”
“You’re a god,” I said. “You laughed and made the room shake!”
“Aye,” Máurso grumbled. “Hate it. One time I went to watch a movie about gods, some Hollywood rubbish, yeah? And, well, I couldn’t stop laughing because everything was so wrong. I couldn’t stop. The whole theater collapsed around me. I had to intervene to save everyone!”
“Wow.”
“Aye,” Máurso said. “You see, Elijah, having power is a great gift and a burden. I know you understand.”
“Yeah, too well.”
“Your family has helped the Immortals for millennia, laddie,” Máurso said. He paused to lean down to pat a tabby cat rubbing against his leg. “You’re good people. And I don’t particularly care for the Còngréhassa or all the rules of the Alliance.
“I believe that Encantreinus and Coaugelus should train and fight together as equals. The Alliance believes Encantreinus should stick to magic while Coaugelus concentrate on fighting, each doing what they are trained for. I think both should train together. And that’s why I’m glad you are here.”