Ebudae (42 page)

“I’m not liking this.” The weaponmaster was
brushing himself off after Appana healed him. She was using her
magic on Grinkin next. “I go with the foolish knight and get hit
with a spell. I go with the stupid private and get hit with a
spell. This has officially become not fun.” He crossed his arms and
glared at everyone.

Pelya went over and gave him a kiss on the
cheek. “I’m sorry, Uncle Gilron.”

His grumpiness faded. “Oh. Well. It’s one of
the hazards of the job. Let’s get going. I’m going to bust in the
next door.” He ran up the steps two at a time.

“Right. This area looks clear,” Frath said,
rushing up behind him to barely beat the knight. They all seemed
eager to get into danger before anyone else.

Except Grinkin. “You two ladies go ahead.
I’m going to take this one a little slower.” He looked worse for
the wear in spite of being healed twice. Appana leaned on her staff
and smiled wordlessly. She was becoming tired from the healing. It
was the kind of magic that took a lot out of people and the
priestess had cast healing spells more powerful than any other holy
person Ebudae had ever met.

The door above splintered loudly and the
ladies hurried to get up the stairs. They heard the weaponmaster
cussing out loud when they reached the top and looked around, but
didn’t see anyone. “Sorry for my language, but I’m the first one up
and there’s no one here.” He kicked an empty wine bottle someone
had left on the ground. “And have I mentioned that I hate
stairs?”

“Who wants to kick in this iron door?”
Grinkin stood next to a plain door with no openings in it that was
set into the far wall. There was also a smaller storeroom to the
left, but Sir Imbra came out of that indicating that it was
clear.

“I believe breaking down metal doors along
with walls and entire villages is our holy knight’s job,” the
weaponmaster proclaimed with a wry twitch of his lips.

“Only if the villages are filled with
evil-type people,” Sir Imbra clarified.

“Ahh, yes, of course.” The weaponmaster
gestured at the door. “Can you break this down?”

“I do not wish to waste Divine Reanna’s
blessing on opening a door that can be opened with a key. We should
leave it for the squad to investigate.”

“It looks like a prison cell,” Grinkin said.
“What if Clutz and Florsy are in there?”

“Did you try opening it?” Pelya asked while
walking towards it. She was pulling out her lockpicks.

“Opening it?” Grinkin asked in
confusion.

“Yes. You know: taking the handle and
pushing on the lever to see if it opens the door?” Pelya tried it,
but it was locked. “This one is locked, but sometimes they’re not.”
She kneeled in front of it and began working on the lock.

“Oh. I didn’t think of that. Stupid of
me.”

“Are you actually picking that lock, young
lady?” Sir Imbra looked over her shoulder. “That seems like a
rather scandalous activity for a young woman who wants to be in the
City Guard.”

“I can pick a few locks, but I’m not good at
it,” Grinkin said in her defense. “Florsy is the best.”

“Picking locks is a vital skill in the
Guard,” the weaponmaster added. “I’d do it, but I left my picks
behind.”

“Pelya learned from Bobbell, who was better
than anyone I’ve ever known,” Frath said with pride. Grinkin and
the weaponmaster looked suitably impressed.

“How extraordinarily revealing,” Sir Imbra
replied in astonishment.

The lock clicked and Pelya rapidly put the
tools back. “Opening.” She pulled on the door and stood aside for
the men to enter. Sir Imbra, Grinkin and the weaponmaster all
dashed forward at the same time and ran into each other while
trying to squeeze through. Then they stepped back and looked at
each other to see who was going to lead.

Laughter burst from the room. “That’s the
funniest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Florsy!” Grinkin exclaimed. He dashed
forward into the cell. “We need a healer in here!”

Sir Imbra stuck his head in the door and
nodded at Appana that it was clear. She went in to tend the men.
Instead of laying hands on them, she touched them each with the
staff for a minute. When she came out, the light from the crystal
was slightly dimmer.

“It takes longer to heal with this and I’ll
have to recharge it later, but I wish to conserve my energy for
future battles in the rooms above,” she explained to the group as
she walked out of the cell.

Florsy and Clutz followed. They were dressed
in plain brown burlap clothes, but looked to be well enough after
the healing. The weaponmaster looked them over. “Neither of you is
in any condition to fight. I order you to remain here and aid the
squad in securing the location.”

“We can fight . . .” Clutz didn’t get any
further.

“That is an order, Private.” Commander
Coodmur’s tone was that of an officer and there was no room for
argument. Both men slammed fists to their chests in salute. The
weaponmaster turned to Grinkin. “Stay with your friends. That also
is an order.”

“Yes sir.” Grinkin slammed his fist to
chest.

The commander waved for the rest of them to
follow. “Let’s go.”

The next level was empty of people. Crates
and barrels were stacked everywhere and another pair of iron doors
was at the far end. The weaponmaster sighed as he walked toward
them. “I’m getting tired of doors. They seem like such a silly
inconvenience.”

“I’ll agree with that.” Sir Imbra reached
them first. “Let’s try young Pelya’s suggestion.” He put a hand on
the lever of the left door and it opened, to everyone’s surprise.
“Well how about that.”

Ebudae felt the stirrings in the air.
“Magic!” They all dived for cover behind crates.

An enormous ball of fire blasted past the
doors and spread throughout the room. Fear gripped Ebudae’s heart
as she felt the heat above her body. There was a special kind of
magical fire called sticky fire that would cling to everything it
touched. It took an incredible amount of power to cast it, but if
that’s what had been shot through the door then they would likely
die. She had read of a way to counter it, but had never tried. The
words of the spell came to her mind.

Her worst fear was confirmed when blue
flames stuck to the side of the crate she was against. Ebudae stood
and immediately began casting. Blue flames were sticking to
everything, including people. To make matters worse, swordsmen were
coming down stairs and through the iron doors.

It was then that Ebudae learned exactly how
tough the Dralin City Guard was. Frath and Commander Coodmur had
blue flames licking their clothes and hair. Ebudae didn’t know if
the chain shirts they wore protected against the fire, but there
was a good chance the metal would burn the skin. The swordsmen
expected easy targets, but found angry and hurt men attacking
them.

Sir Imbra and Appana were the only ones who
didn’t have fire clinging to them, even though the knight had been
closer than anyone. The first man through the door was cut in half
by the knight’s greatsword. Frath attacked the next one despite the
fact that the left side of his head was on fire. The swordsman only
had a second to reflect on the matter until Frath cut him down.
Then a rush of swordsmen came in and began to die on the swords of
the three men.

Only a part of Ebudae’s mind saw what was
happening in the room. Everything else was focused on casting the
spell and keeping her balance in the supernatural wind of magic
that was swirling around her. It was taking all her power and she
had to ignore pain digging into her skull from sticky fire that had
landed in her own hair. Fortunately, the sticky fire was
disappearing from everything because she was using it for the
energy of the spell.

Pelya saw Ebudae casting and stood in front
to protect the wizardess. She screamed in agony through clenched
teeth because fire was on her clothes and on her hand too. Even
though it was disappearing, the fire had burned through skin and
nerves. When one of the swordsmen broke past the men and headed
toward Ebudae, the young warrior parried a thrust and slashed at
the man’s chest. The blade that never dulled cut through the tunic
and chain shirt he wore and then into his chest. He stopped and
tried to take a step back, but Pelya leaped into the air, reversed
the course of her sword and brought it down through his neck. It
was the first time she had ever killed a person.

That fact was in a corner of Ebudae’s mind
to be dealt with later. All of the fire was gone and she released
the spell she had been working on. Everywhere there had been fire,
there was now cold water, having been transformed on a level unseen
by the human eye. It appeared in a million loud splashes, spraying
the room and soaking everything it hit. Ebudae staggered back
against the wall behind her, exhausted.

The four remaining swordsmen of Master
Thanzin were surprised by it and that surprise cost them their
lives. Sir Imbra was nowhere to be seen, but Frath and the
weaponmaster didn’t even pause in their fight, each killing one.
The third didn’t know who to defend against and fell with fatal
wounds by both of their swords.

Pelya had both of her swords out, fighting a
man with officer’s insignia. He had gone for the wizardess only to
be met by a violent flurry of blades. Frath and Gilron took steps
forward, but held their position to let Pelya fight her battle.
Appana, bathed in glowing sunlight that seemed to radiate from her,
took the opportunity to come up behind them and heal their wounds.
The light disappeared as she did so.

The officer was good with the sword, very
good. There was already a cut across Pelya’s nose and cheek,
causing blood to flow down her face. Frath looked horrified and the
only thing holding him back was Gilron’s hand in front of his
chest. There was also a diagonal cut on the front Pelya’s tunic,
exposing the chain shirt that had protected her belly from being
sliced open. She parried his sword and hissed in pain as the tip of
it tore through flesh above the knee, causing blood to spray.

But even as she staggered away from the
backswing, Pelya was more skilled. For every cut she had, he had
three. Blood flowed from a straight cut on his forehead. More
leaked from his arms and legs. There was a gash in his tunic as
well, the chain shirt was sliced through and covered with blood
from a deep wound, indicating that her adventuring sword had made
the cut. Ebudae wondered why it didn’t cut through the officer’s
sword before realizing that his blade had magical enhancements on
it.

She drove the man back, her swords whirling
and slashing from every direction. Frath, Gilron and Appana stepped
aside to stay out of their way. Sir Imbra came back through the
doors with the blood of slain foes covering his armor. He also held
back.

The man yelled in fury and made a final,
fatal lunge. Pelya danced to the side, driving her adventuring
sword up through the chain shirt and his chest. Her primary sword
slashed into the side of his neck.

The weight of his body falling dragged her
down too and she collapsed, gasping for air. Frath was there
instantly to grab her by the arm and help her to her feet. “Well
done, so very well done,” he told her. His eyes were still wild
from seeing her in danger.

Pelya held onto her primary, blood-covered
sword, but lost her grip on the one in the man’s chest because his
twitching body lay on it. She was hyperventilating from exertion
and the reality that she had just killed the man.

“Slow down your breathing, daughter,” Frath
told her gently, standing in front of her and positioning her head
so she was looking up at him. “Don’t worry about anything but
taking each breath.” His voice was calm and reassuring. Frath had
set aside his own feelings to concentrate on her.

The weaponmaster rolled the officer’s body
over and pulled out the adventuring sword. His jaw dropped when the
blood slid off it. He held the smooth blade up in the light.
“Extraordinary.”

“I don’t see any marks on it.” Sir Imbra
looked over his shoulder. “It’s not steel or anything else I’ve
ever seen.”

Appana approached Pelya, but shock froze her
feet. “You’re being healed! Something is healing you and it’s not .
. .” She leaned forward, looking closely at the wound in Pelya’s
leg visibly closing. “What is it?”

Frath held her at arm’s length and examined
the cut on her face that was also healing. “Pelya?” He didn’t know
what else to ask.

Ebudae realized that the pain on her skull
was only a dull ache. The dragon mark on her back was hot though.
The combination of casting powerful spells and being injured was
activating it. She had forgotten about it again and had forgotten
about Pelya’s for even longer. Pelya’s dragon mark was on the left
side from spine to the center of her chest and belly. Ebudae’s mark
clamped down on that knowledge as she thought about it.

“Pelya, how are you healing?” Frath asked.
The wounds were nearly gone. Her tunic and chain shirt covered the
dragon mark completely just as Ebudae’s dress did for her.

Pelya’s mouth shut tight and she shook her
head. She was still trying to breathe normally, so it complicated
things.

“She can’t tell you,” Ebudae said rapidly.
“Don’t ask her again, please.” They all looked at her. Pelya’s
mouth was able to open again and she gulped air. Ebudae felt the
mark on her back get warmer. “She can’t tell you.”

“What are the two of you?” Appana was right
next to Pelya. The priestess had been looking the young woman up
and down, but now turned her attention on Ebudae. “Are you
human?”

“Yes!” Both girls were indignant at the
suggestion.

“What is it that you’re not telling us?
You’re healing on your own too.” Appana came over and put a hand in
Ebudae’s hair. “Even your pretty hair is growing back before my
eyes. This is not normal magic. It is neither from the Gods nor the
arcane energies that churn chaotically through air and ground.” She
became even more intense. “What are you and how are you healing
yourself?”