Interlude Two

Takanuva’s vision of the past continues…

Gali hit the ground hard, and not for the first time. By now, her muscles ached, her armor was cracked in a few places, and her Mask of Power had already been knocked off half a dozen times. She was tired, she was irritated, and she still couldn’t see the point of any of this.

“I’m a Toa of Water,” she grumbled as she got to her feet. “So what am I doing here?”

Her trainer, Hydraxon, shook his head. “You’re a Toa of Water. That’s true. So naturally your foes will be sure to attack you only when there’s plenty of water around… that’s false.”

Faster than her eye could follow, he whipped a boomerang at her. It swooped low and struck her in the legs, knocking her off her feet again.

Hydraxon gestured at the landscape around them. It was a barren desert for as far as the eye could see. The humidity in the air was close to zero. “If you want water, you’re going to have to make it yourself,” he said. “Provided I don’t carve you up before you get the chance.”

Gali sprang up this time and charged Hydraxon, swinging the hooked tools she carried. He caught one on his armored wrist, grabbed her arm with his free hand, and tossed her over his hip. She landed flat on her back.

“I could do this all day,” Hydraxon said, smiling. “And if you keep thinking with your heart, not your head, I’ll probably have to.”

Gali scrambled to her feet, but this time she didn’t attack. Instead, she took a few steps backward, keeping her eyes trained on Hydraxon’s hands. If he was going to toss another blade or boomerang, this time she would be ready.

As it turned out, his hands never moved. Instead, he lashed out with a kick at a nearby dune, spraying a load of sand into her face. While she was blinded, he threw two knives, knocking both hooks from her hands.

“Now you’re disarmed, and you can’t see,” he said. “That means you have about half a second to live, and that’s if your enemy’s slow.”

Just keep talking, Gali thought. We’ll see who has how much time left.

Concentrating hard, she fired a jet of water from the palm of her hand. It hit Hydraxon with the force of a small explosion, knocking him to the ground. When her vision cleared, she saw him reaching for one of his weapons. She fired again, pinning him to the ground with her water blast.

“Give up?” she asked.

“Not even a little,” Hydraxon replied.

Gali heard movement behind her too late. A silver energy hound slammed into her from behind, putting her face-first in the sand. With her concentration shattered, her water blast was cut off. Hydraxon got up, grabbed her by the back of the neck, and hauled her to her feet.

“Meet Spinax,” he said, gesturing to the four-legged beast who still eyed her warily. “After I’m done training you would-be heroes, I have a new assignment, and he’s coming along. For now, though, he helps me prove a point — the danger isn’t always what you see. Often, it’s what you don’t see until it’s too late.”

Gali spat out sand. Somehow, she managed a smile. “I don’t envy the group working with you in your next job.”

To her surprise, Hydraxon’s face darkened. “You shouldn’t. Trust me, you shouldn’t envy them at all.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Gali tried to change the subject. “So, lesson learned. Are we done for today?”

Hydraxon, who had been lost in thought, suddenly seemed to remember she was there. “Hmmm? No, no. You have a 15-minute head start. Then I send Spinax after you. They say he can track a wisp of energy across a planet and back… so I suggest you start running.”

“And what am I supposed to learn from that?” demanded Gali.

“It’s not training for you,” replied Hydraxon, smiling. “It’s training for him.”

By the time Gali made it back to the Toa’s shelter, she was exhausted and sore. “Mask of Water Breathing,” she sighed. “Big help when there’s no water anywhere around.”

Pohatu laughed. “I thought I’d be able to outrun the little beast with my mask, but darn thing never gives up. Ran so fast I fused some of the sand to glass, and Spinax still caught me the second I slowed down. Kopaka’s the only one who passed that test.”

Gali turned to the Toa of Ice. “What did you do?”

Kopaka shrugged. “I froze him.”

“You didn’t!”

“He did,” said Lewa. The Toa of Air was floating halfway off the floor. Determined to master his Mask of Levitation, his feet were almost never on the ground anymore.

“So what happened?” asked Gali.

“Nothing,” muttered Kopaka.

“Nothing?” Onua chuckled. “Hydraxon commended him on his original thinking.”

“And then knocked him flat,” Tahu added. “Was it six times or eight times in a row, brother?”

“I didn’t see you do any better, Toa of Ashes,” bristled Kopaka.

“I guess a Mask of Shielding doesn’t help much when the boomerangs keep hitting you from behind, huh, Tahu?” said Lewa.

Onua glanced at Tahu and Kopaka and saw neither one was laughing. “Well, we all need to do better,” said the Toa of Earth. “Someday, it won’t be a trainer we’ll be up against, but the real thing.”

“That cannot be soon enough for me,” said Kopaka. “Perhaps then there will be less talking.”

Lewa drifted back down to the ground, landing beside Gali. “Friendly sort, isn’t he?” he whispered.

“He’s a loner, but one who’s smart enough to know he can’t succeed alone,” Gali replied. “It makes him angry, but he tries to keep it all frozen inside.”

“While Tahu keeps fanning the flames between them, like he’s trying to prove something,” said Lewa. “Maybe we better stick together, sister. Those two could get us killed.”