The Spirit War (41 page)

Josef was still trying to see where she’d gone when he crashed
into something hard and brittle. He grunted as he hit and rolled on instinct. The landing hurt far less than it should have. The echo of the Heart’s power was still crashing through him, drowning out every other sensation. He’d joined with his sword before, but never like that. The black blade had moved not with him, but
through
him. Its power was his power, its will, his will, and as it began to drain away, Josef felt emptier than ever. But as he lay still and fought to steady himself, the Heart’s hilt pressed against his hands, warning him that the fight was not over.

Like a man waking from a deep sleep, Josef shot up and the world returned. He was in a crater on the roof of the palace’s western wing. The watchtower, what was left of it, loomed above him. Its entire north face was gone, the stone sundered by the force of the Heart’s blow. There were great holes in the tile roofs of the stylish buildings around the castle where the blown-out chunks of the broken tower had landed, but Josef’s eyes skipped over them, looking for his target.

Adela lay in the ruins of what had been the top floor of the most prestigious bank in Osera, her body cradled by a great wave of shining steel. The metal moved as he watched, throwing off the rubble, and Josef cursed as it lifted Adela to her feet. When she was steady, the metal retreated, flowing back into the shape of the long, curved sword.

She shook her head, as though trying to clear it, and Josef started to grin. Challenge the Heart, would she? But the weakness lasted less than a second. At once, her head snapped up, her eyes finding him instantly among the wreckage. Josef got to his feet, watching to see what she would do. Even after cutting through a mile of steel and the wall of the watchtower, the Heart’s blow had been enough to throw her far. It was a long jump from the wrecked bank where she stood to the palace roof. He planted his feet, easing the Heart in his hands as he waited to see how she would handle it, but Adela
made no move to close the distance. Instead, she raised her sword, pointing the tip at Josef’s chest in challenge.

Smirking, Josef held up the Heart in answer, his mouth opening to taunt her into a wild charge.

He never got a chance. The moment he moved the Heart, the tip of Adela’s silver blade shot out. It flew like an arrow, cutting through the air with a screaming whistle. By the time Josef realized what was happening, it was nearly too late. With no time to duck, he defended the only way he could. He raised his sword and flipped it, holding the Heart’s broadside like a shield over his chest. For a split second, it looked like this would work, but then the tip of Adela’s blade flickered, and the sliver shot forked left in midair. There was no time to adjust, no time for Josef to do anything but brace himself as the sword point slipped around the Heart’s defense and stabbed through his left shoulder.

It happened so quickly, there wasn’t even any pain. One moment he was braced, the next a length of shining steel pierced his shoulder like a spit through a roast. He could feel the metal in his muscle, slick and burning hot from the expansion. He was still staring dumbly at it when the blade began to lift. Across the expanse, Adela was raising her sword, lifting Josef up until his feet were dangling.

Now it hurt. Every centimeter she raised him sent a new bolt of pain sharp enough to make his vision go dark radiating from his shoulder. He struggled because he felt he should, but it was a futile effort. Her sword had skewered him like a speared boar. He couldn’t even slide himself off the blade. All he could do was grip the Heart as Adela lifted him farther and farther into the air like he weighed nothing.

Just when Josef was sure his arm was going to rip off, Adela flicked her wrist. The sword snapped in a mirror of the motion, slinging Josef off the end. He was dimly aware of tumbling through the air, but his real attention was on the blinding pain of the sword
as it slid out of his body. The agony made him sluggish, too sluggish to do more than tuck his head as Adela’s throw sent him through one of the palace chimneys. The bricks crumbled when he hit, falling on him in a rain of broken stone as he tumbled down the slope of the palace roof until, at last, he hit one of the stone gutters and stopped.

For several moments, all he could do was lie still and try to breathe. His body was seizing up around him, his blood grinding to a halt in his veins. His right arm was a bar of pain, but even though he couldn’t feel his right hand, or form a coherent thought, Josef clung to the Heart instinctively, knowing without knowing that it was his best chance of survival.

As his mind slowly came back to the present, the first thing he heard was the soft hiss of steel as Adela’s sword shrank back to its usual shape. Groaning at the effort, Josef turned his head to see her walk to the edge of the bank’s broken roof and hold out her sword again. He sucked in a breath, bracing for another blow, but her sword was pointed down. The blade extended again with a metallic whine, and he heard the stone shatter as the tip hit the street below. Then, using her sword as a pole, Adela stepped out into the open gulf of air between the bank’s ruined roof and the palace. The sword began to fall at once, carrying her across the gap until she landed neatly on the edge of the palace roof. Her sword retracted the moment her feet were firm, returning to the long, gently curved blade as Adela advanced on Josef.

He sank to the ground, bringing the Heart up as high as he could. The wound in his shoulder burned like a hot poker, but the Heart’s strength was already washing the pain away. He probably could have stood if he’d really tried, but Josef stayed put, watching Adela as she stopped by his feet. Her braid was skewed from the impact earlier, and the wind whipped her long hair across her face as she stood over him, surveying her kill. Her sword shone with
harsh light, steam rising off the blade in long tendrils as she planted the point between the tiles and leaned on it like a walking stick.

“Still alive?” she cooed.

That was when Josef struck. He pushed up with his uninjured shoulder, the Heart of War moving in a black flash as he swung straight for Adela’s neck. For a split second, he saw true panic in her eyes, and then her fingers tightened on the hilt of her sword.

The blade responded instantly. It flew out like a silver rope, loping up and back with a scream of steel to hook the Heart’s blade. Josef grunted as the Heart of War jerked in his hands. Had he been standing, he could have held the blow on course, but striking up from the ground and on one injured shoulder, he simply didn’t have the strength. Adela’s sword pulled the Heart’s trajectory off at the last second, flipping the black blade and Josef with it.

Josef cried out as he slammed into the tiled roof for the third time, rolling as he hit in a desperate effort to save his injured shoulder. He ended up on his stomach, but just as he kicked his legs under to get up, Adela’s boot landed on his neck and slammed him down again.

Adela leaned over him, panting wildly as she ground her boot down with all her weight. Josef gritted his teeth and shifted, turning his head so he could see her face. She was glaring down at him with pure, righteous fury. One hand held her sword, its flexible blade still wrapped around the Heart, but her other hand was pressed against her neck, staunching a shallow wound half an inch from her windpipe. Despite the boot grinding into his neck, Josef grinned. She wasn’t quite as fast as she liked to think.

“How are you still alive?” Adela whispered, her voice shaking with rage. “You should be bleeding to death.” Her dark eyes darted to his hands, still gripping the Heart of War with all their might. “I wonder.”

She jerked her fingers along her sword’s hilt. The flexible blade
followed the motion, slinging down in a flashing arc. Josef’s eyes widened, and he dropped the Heart a second before the whipped blade would have sliced off his fingers. Adela laughed above him, but Josef had both hands free now. He reached up with his free arm, fingers closing around her boot before he threw her as hard as he could. Adela’s laughter cut off with a strangled cry as she fell, but Josef had already put her out of his mind. Every sense he had was focused on the black blade lying crooked on the tiles. He’d been separated from his sword for only a few seconds, but already the pain was threatening to knock him out. The Heart was all that mattered. If he couldn’t reach it, he was down for good. But as his fingers brushed the hilt, a flash of silver cut him off.

Adela’s sword whistled over his head, landing on the Heart with a whine of cutting metal. Josef snatched his fingers back with a curse as the flexible blade wrapped itself around the Heart like thread around a spindle, and as it wrapped, the blade began to spin, surrounding the Heart in an impenetrable cocoon of whirling steel. The moment the sword was completely covered, Adela flicked her hand like she was cracking a whip and the blade of her sword snapped off, freeing her from the tangle of whirling metal she’d woven around the Heart.

“There,” she said, smiling as the broken length of sword in her hand folded and re-formed until it was a slender, curved blade once again. “Let’s see how well you fight now, Thereson.”

Josef’s eyes flicked back to the Heart. Despite Adela seemingly snapping her blade in two, the cocoon of spinning steel around the Heart was going strong, grinding into the tile below with a whining scream. He crouched on his knees, considering his options. It didn’t take long, since there was only one. Blood soaked his arm, back, and chest, and he was starting to feel light-headed even through the pain. If he was going to do anything other than sit here and bleed to
death, he needed the Heart, but there was no way through the spinning coil of Adela’s blade. Not without losing a hand, or worse.

Josef gritted his teeth with a growl of frustration. “That’s a very annoying weapon you have there, Dela. Does your Empress fight all her battles so cheaply, or am I the exception?”

“The Empress fights for victory,” Adela said. “Anything else is merely the conceit of prideful swordsmen.” She tapped his shoulder with her blade, forcing him to turn and face her. “You are defeated, Prince Thereson,” she crowed, beaming down at him. “Your wound is bleeding as it should now that I’ve separated you from that hunk of iron you call a sword. Give up. As it stands, I can still save your life, but you will be dead for certain if you persist in fighting.”

“Why should I give up?” Josef said, sitting back on his heels as he pressed both palms against the hole in his shoulder in a futile attempt to hold in the blood. “You think I believe you’ll let me live? After everything you’ve admitted to me?”

“Of course,” Adela said. “With the duke dead and your mother soon to follow, you are next in line for the throne. If you die here, the succession will be broken completely.”

“What do you care about the succession?” Josef wheezed. It was getting hard to sit straight now. “I’m not about to make you queen, if that’s what you’re after.”

Adela’s lips peeled up in a sneer. “Why would I want to be queen of this pit? Osera is a savage place, even by the standards of this savage, backward continent. To be honest, I don’t think this island is worthy of the Empress’s conquest, but my lady is more forgiving than I am.”

Adela lowered her sword and leaned down, bringing her head to Josef’s level. “The people of Osera are stubborn brutes,” she whispered. “Even without a king, they will throw themselves at the Empress’s soldiers, breaking like waves on the wall of her palace
ships until the sea is red with Oseran blood. But there’s no reason the Empress’s coming has to be a massacre. Think, Thereson. If you live, you will become king of Osera with the power to make your people surrender. Since you came home when your mother raised the bounty, I can’t believe you’re as indifferent to your homeland as you pretend. It’s true that nothing you do can save Osera now, but there’s still a chance you can save your people. Pledge your loyalty to the Empress, and she may be merciful.”

Josef stared at her for a moment, and then he started to laugh. Each seize of his chest sent a wave of pain that nearly knocked him out, but he couldn’t stop. “You actually think…” He gasped. “You actually believe Osera would listen to
me
?”

Adela scowled. “If you don’t like the terms, I can always stand here and watch you die.” She straightened up again, flicking her sword until the point was level with Josef’s throat. “What will it be, Josef Liechten Thereson Eisenlowe? Life for you and your people at my Empress’s mercy, or certain death for every soul on this island? Choose quickly, we’re drawing a crowd.”

Josef glanced down. Sure enough, the square in front of the castle was packed with people. Some were pointing up at the prince and princess; others were simply staring dumbstruck at the cratered roof and shattered buildings. The crowd was entirely citizens, no guards or military, and Josef turned away to focus on the more important matters of Adela’s sword and his bleeding shoulder. But, just before his eyes left the crowd, he caught a pair of familiar faces.

A second later, a cool breeze ruffled Josef’s hair.

“Can’t we go faster?” Nico said, leaning out the carriage window.

Eli clung to his seat for dear life. He’d been making the most of his first nonthieving-related arrest when Nico had come charging out of the shadows by the door and told everyone Adela was their traitor, that she’d killed her own guards and broken the queen’s
Relay point, and that Josef was fighting her as they spoke. That was five minutes ago. Now, thanks to a few well-placed scares from Nico and Eli’s quick hand with knots, they were in a requisitioned military cart hurtling over the rutted streets of east Osera toward the palace.

“Any faster and we’d end up flat against a building,” Tesset answered from his perch on the driver’s seat, holding the horses straight as the road veered and dipped. Tesset had come along without being asked, but Eli hadn’t complained, as the Council man had offered to drive. He was starting to regret that decision. Tesset made him nervous. Despite the plunging horses, the man’s expression never changed from interestedly neutral, as though this was all nothing more than a play he hadn’t quite decided he liked yet.