Court Wizards: Chapter 2

Shake paused in her ritual when she heard her mother’s laugh. She looked and saw her mother’s arm around Elbow as they entered the farmhouse with her father and Wolfman. She growled under her breath and turned back to her work.

She wasn’t a village idiot. Shake knew that two-on-two competitions, especially those at the county level, would bring much greater wealth to her community. The average inter-village matchup and single-combat battle could keep a family afloat, but her parents had to look out for a whole village. And so, though she did not like new teammates, Shake knew that she too had to put aside her preferences for the greater good.

But she didn’t have to like it.

Why did her stupid brother have to leave? Again, she knew why.

But she didn’t like it.

Rik and Shake Johansen were the terror of the tri-county area. Their whole family would travel from town-to-town, her mother and father taking on all challengers among those that had come-of-age while the brother-sister duo would dismantle any young wizards in each burg. It was the best time in Shake’s life. Her entire family on the road, tapping into the magic every day. It was pure. It was fun. They had each other — it was all she wanted and everything she needed.

But good things always come to an end. A roving band of wizards out of the big city found grandmother’s farm and issued a king of the court challenge. Her family rushed home in their wagon and Shake’s mother and father faced down a dozen competitors in dual combat, nearly killing themselves in the effort, but defending their home court with honor. By the law of every land, the challengers, though foul, respected the outcome of the battle and fled. The close call made her parents realize it was time to trade in their nomadic life for something more stable because the challenge might not be something they could stand against alone.

Over the years, they erected the perimeter fence, planted a forest around it, conjured the warding, invited trusted friends onto the farm, built up the community, and buried grandma, who put her daughter and son-in-law in charge of the village as her last act as leader.

And they trained. They trained a lot.

Suddenly, it felt like the stakes were higher and the magic of basketball had deeper meaning. It wasn’t just about her family, it was about their community. That suited Shake just fine. She loved the game and honed her skill every day to help those around her. While it was a lot of change, it continued to be a happy time for Shake. That was, until her brother turned seventeen and her parents split up the brother-sister duo to pair him with another village boy.

As their community grew, so did the need for resources. Shake’s parents couldn’t travel as far afield to compete, and while Shake’s size allowed her to compete against older kids, they weren’t yet ready for her to head out on her own to compete against fully grown competitors. That was a quest they trained Rik and Brick for. When the boys turned eighteen, they headed out to compete against village champions and in tournaments to collect resources for the village. Shake understood the reasoning for this and she knew the village needed the bounty her brother and Brick sent back to them, but as was often the case, understanding it didn’t mean she liked it.

She could almost deal with her brother going off and splintering their relationship as running mates on the court when she was competing on her own. She could best both the young wizards and old heads, and had many times. And if she was honest with herself, she knew the lack of a challenge in this matchups was beginning to wear on her. But for her parents to pair her up with one of their old teammate’s children?

Shake seethed again thinking about it, her anger boiling up. She took a deep breath, contained the rage, channeled that energy, and started her routine all over again. She wasn’t ready to break bread with any of them right now. More likely, she’d flip the kitchen table. And angry as she was, even she couldn’t waste fresh biscuits like that. Some things were too holy even for the righteous anger she felt. Better to continue her training process until the fire gave way to calm.

“Come on in, Bit,” her mother said. “That’s enough for tonight.”

The torchlight flickered as Shake’s focus wavered.

“Why do you insist on scaring me like that?” Shake answered. How fiery she sounded told her that, despite the workout, she was not as calm as she’d hoped.

“I’m sorry.”

For a towering post player in her heyday, Shake’s mother stepped as softly as a mountain lion on the hunt. Her footwork was still the stuff of legend, and while Shake would watch in awe when her mother demonstrated her power, she hated when that power caught her unawares.

“And I’m grown now,” Shake continued her verbal onslaught. “Will you and father stop calling me ‘Bitsy’ for goodness’ sake?”

“Sorry, B–,” Jo stopped herself. “It’ll take time, but we’ll try.”

They stared at each other. The space between them was electric with the familiar tension that tethers people who deeply care for one other. A tether that can hurt when emotions tug-of-war with each other, both people pulling their own direction before snapping back together into harmony. Though neither would say it, they both felt the pain of the pull more these days than the comfort of unity.

Jo broke the silence. “Time for the evening meal, daughter. You have a long day tomorrow. You need sustenance and rest.”

“Just a few more,” Shake said, turning back toward the net-clad iron ring around which her entire existence revolved. It was a necessary part of her ritual to place the orb through the hoop five times once she decided to pause her practice. She always finished with a series of moves to hone her feints. Dropping her left shoulder, then her right, before spinning back left. Or right, left, then right. The variations were endless, and Shake’s diligence in this practice and her ability to stun an opponent with this dance was the origin of her namesake.

“I hear you triumphed in the field house earlier,” Shake’s mother said. “Hoops Harvey’s mastery of the game is well known. It’s no small feat to best him. Well done.”

Shake sank a final basket, took a deep breath, and collected the orb, cradling it reverently between her hand and forearm.

“The Great Chieftain does not have the same talent for flattery as his counterpart,” Shake responded, bowing into a mock curtsy. “He seemed more concerned about his matchmaking.”

Jo sighed at the impudence but reeled herself in. Meeting her daughter’s fire with more fire only set the prairie alight — possibly literally if her magic continued to grow.

“You and your brother are your father’s first priorities, but the welfare of the village does live on that same list.”

Shake approached Jo and looked up into her eyes, though she didn’t have to crane her neck as much as most to do so.

“And you agree with this scheme? To pair me with some nomad’s boy because the champions of all the nearby villages are too scared to face me alone?”

Once again, Jo took a beat to keep herself level. She did this to stay calm under assault on the hardwood. She didn’t realize it would also be a worthy skill when raising kids.

“You know that your father and I are not always of one mind,” Jo reminded her. “But we always align on a course of action before we put a game plan into motion.”

“I had a teammate, but Rik left.”

“You knew when he was old enough he’d strike out to help the village–”

“I don’t need help!”

“You’re very capable–”

“They’re all scared to face me. The cowards!”

“Beating the old men so badly they fear a rematch might have been a tad much–”

“But you said I should never back down!”

“And you shouldn’t, but–”

It was as if all the work put into finding her focus, stacked piece by piece with each pound of the ball and swish of the net, came tumbling down. Shake squeezed her ball with such fury that the leather began to smoke.

“But nothing! I’m powerful. You know it. Father knows it. I know it. Why are you doing this?”

“Enough.”

From her father’s mouth, this one word would have felt like a command and infuriated her all the more. It didn’t grate like a scold when her mother said it. It felt like moving into the lee of a large oak tree after being blasted by high winds. Fury all around, and yet, a calm stillness in this one spot.

Jo put a hand on Shake’s shoulder and breathed deeply until her daughter’s inhales matched her own.

“If you’d let me finish, daughter,” Jo teased before continuing. “I did tell you to never back down. And you never should. But that isn’t just on the hardwood. That applies to every challenge.”

Shake hung her head. She was too smart for this. Why had she let her anger rule her?

“You have no match in single combat anywhere in a half day’s drive,” Jo said as she put a crooked index finger under Shake’s chin and raised her head. “If you don’t continue to grow, you’ll wither. You’ve outgrown this stage of your journey. It’s time for a new challenge.”

Looking into her mother’s eyes, Shake knew it was true. She probably got so furious because she already knew. She was angry about the lack of battles. She practiced harder than ever because, if she took time to admit it to herself, she worried her abilities were slipping without opponents to keep her skills sharp. She understood somewhere inside her that the gift of her magic should not be squandered. She’d worked too hard to cultivate her skill to let it lie fallow.

“There’s plenty of time to sort this all out,” Jo said. “But like grandma said, it’ll be easier after some food and a full night’s rest.”

Jo’s other hand moved from behind her back and revealed three steaming biscuits in a clean but faded paisley bandana. Shake grabbed one of them and took a greedy bite. She realized she was starving after her training session. As she chewed, it seemed like the taste of the fresh baking removed any vestige of stress and anger from her face.

As they walked back to the farmhouse, the sound of two barred owls calling back and forth filled the night air. Between bites of her biscuit, Shake asked, “But why him, mother? Just because father used to go head-to-head with the Wolfman?”

“Not at all,” Jo explained. “It’s because I used to be running mates with his mother.”