Storm Girls (The Juniper Wars Book 4) by Aaron Ritchey (best books to read for teens .txt) 📗

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Looking for more by Aaron Michael Ritchey, and need it right this minute? Check out: Sages of the Underpass (Battle Artists Book 1). Or keep reading to take a sneak peek.

AT 23, NIKODEMUS KOWALCZYK has given up on his dreams of being a world-class Battle Artist. He chose family over fame, and with his crippled core, he didn’t have much of a chance anyway. But when an unexpected power falls into his lap, and he discovers a new teacher to help him, those long-dead dreams are re-kindled. Standing in his way is a bitter, battle-hardened veteran who can't be defeated.

Some Dreams Never Die. Sometimes the best don't win. All it takes is a single moment of strength to take you to the top...

Chapter One: The Favor

IF IT HAD BEEN ANYONE else, at any other time, Nikodemus Kowalczyk would’ve said no. Niko didn’t fight anymore. Some dreams were better off dead.

His mother said it often—a dream is a wonderful, terrible, powerful thing. A dream didn’t care about you, a dream only wanted to live, and the result was often long hours, not a small amount of blood, and above all, disappointment. And that disappointment wasn’t simply from the dream not coming true, no, that would’ve been tolerable. The real heartbreak was when it all fell into place, and you got what you longed for, but it didn’t live up to the fantasy.

Niko’s mother knew that disappointment. So did his father. For them, the dream had become a trap that refused to let them go.

The hallway of the Mudflats Marriot had eye-biting carpet, a swirl of patterns that encouraged you to keep on walking to your next destination. In this case, it was either the bathrooms or convention Hall BB.

Niko had just come out of the men’s room. He thought, seriously, about retreating back into a stall and waiting Madison Dark out.

Maddy blocked his path. She wanted him in convention Hall BB for a very specific purpose. “Come on, Niko, I’m desperate. You don’t need to win. You just need to give the fans a semi-good fight.”

He wanted to say no. But for Maddy to ask him, it meant she had asked everyone else at MudCon, the local Battle Artist Convention she ran with the help of about a zillion volunteers working for free. Niko’s mother had another saying. You get what you pay for.

Maddy had strawberry blonde hair, a round face, and a definite strut—the same walk she’d had on their first day of high school, nine years ago. She wore shorts, sandals, and a MudCon 2020 T-shirt. She stood, arms open, because if she crossed them, Niko would dash around her and head for the front door.

“Let me guess,” Niko said. “Someone backed out at the last minute.”

“Allen did. He’s sick, or so he says. I’d like to believe him, but you know, I have my suspicions.” Maddy tried to sweeten the sour situation. “It’s only against Howling, and Stan is a relatively good guy. He won’t bring the heat. He gets that it’s an exhibition match. Please.”

Niko frowned at her. He hadn’t fought since the summer after they graduated from high school. That was five years ago. He’d lost, but that hadn’t been a big deal. The Pranad made it clear: A thousand losses are a teacher. A single victory is a pause.

No, he’d given up fighting for a dozen other better reasons.

He tried to get mad at her for asking.

She knew that fighting again would bring up a world of terrible memories. Yet she also knew that while he might have given up on the Battle Artist dream, others, like Stan Howling, never would. She put on the Battle Con for that very reason—to give amateurs and wannabes a place to fight.

MudCon was the very bottom of the bottom of the Artist community, not a qualifier for anything greater, not a way into a college. Hell, the military didn’t even come to events like MudCon. That was why Maddy could only get Hall BB and not the main event center, where there was an actual Battle Arena including stadium seating. MudCon was a celebration of the Battle Arts, pure and simple, and Maddy knew that a missed match would give the Con a bad name. It was only the third year.

An early Friday afternoon match meant there wouldn’t be a big crowd. That would save Niko some embarrassment. Stan Howling would do some fire tricks, Niko would get singed a bit, and then go down, easily, when Stan thought it was time.

It wasn’t like he was a main event like Andrew J. Coffey that night. And Niko had come to help Maddy out by buying a ticket and to hang out with Teddy. He'd taken a half-day off from the family business, figuring he’d put in his time at the con, peruse the vendor room, see Andrew J. Coffey fight, and then then go home.

Teddy came tromping down the steps that led to the main hotel. He had his big black backpack, of course. Teodoro Martinez was part man, part backpack, but mostly belly. He rolled on up, grinning at them. “Maddy, you found him! Did he say yes?