The Way of the Blade (32 page)

“Did they not see the signal?” Canto asked.

“Relax,” Malja said. “All of you. Take a few breaths. Enjoy the calm. I guarantee that in a few minutes, you won’t have time for any of that.”

One man, thin but with a dark look in his eyes, stood and said, “We can’t just sit here while our wives and mothers are fighting for us.”

“They’ve been doing a pretty good job without you, so far.”

“Who’s in charge here?” the man asked Canto.

Before Canto could answer, Malja raised her hand. “Be quiet. Something’s happening.” She ran a few feet to the right to try to get a clearer view of the warship. From the deck, the specks all jumped over the side. Every last Carsite aboard carried a piece of floating metal. Nothing big enough or with enough magic to set them flying, but enough to slow their descent. Like snowfall, they drifted to the ground in silence.

Malja shifted her spyglass to the left. The autoflys and Scarites continued their aerial combat. Perfect. “Get ready.”

“Everybody up,” Canto said. “We flank the enemy and attack with all we’ve got. Let’s move.”

“Halt!” Shaking her head, Malja sprinted to the front of the group. “I only said to get ready. I didn’t say we attack.”

Dark Eyes brandished a hammer he had found on the ground. “We’ve been waiting for years to do this. No way are we waiting anymore.”

“We wait for our signal. We wait for your loved ones to safely get in position. Otherwise, all your wives and mothers and daughters will die because of you.”

Swallowing back his words, Dark Eyes settled amongst the other men. Malja checked on the warship again. What was taking so long?

She gazed off in the direction Tommy had taken Javery.

Chapter 36

Javery

The brat had Javery by the waist, shoving him through the air like a bullet. Javery had to endure it while his body recharged. He punched Tommy in the back several times, but the little crug refused to budge.

Finally, as they passed over Raxholden, Javery had enough energy stored for a few attacks, if he could control himself. He had to let it out in short bursts. Concentrating on the boy, Javery’s hip bones broke in two. He barked out at the pain even as his body began to glow green.

But the boy, the filthy rat, must have felt the change in Javery’s body for he grabbed Javery’s arm and twisted the burnt skin hard, tearing bits of flesh from his bone. Javery’s shrill cry scared flocks of birds into the air. He felt his hip bones reforming as his concentration was lost.

He took three rapid breaths, but before he could try again, Tommy let him go. He fell backwards, seeing the Assembly Hall floating high above and in the distance. No longer was he above the town, then. He spun over and saw a Waypoint station.

His body reacted before his mind could process — or perhaps it was simply the magic, itself. He never knew. A green field surrounded him. What should have become his broken body smashing against the stone of the Waypoint station turned into a demolition by magic. He shattered through the stone, exploding the station into rubble, and dug a trench into the ground until he came to a stop — unharmed.

Despite his body automatically using his magic, he still had plenty left. And a volcano bubbled within, roiling up his chest, filling his head with images of quartering this bastard and watching the Scarites gnaw on his bones. He jumped out of the smoldering trench, felt his ankle break, and shot out an energy bolt at Tommy. The boy dodged it, managing to better his own position for a counter-strike. Fast and well-trained — Javery expected no less from someone raised by Malja.

He lifted into the air and closed his eyes for a few seconds — long enough to build a good amount of smoke. When he opened them and the sooty filth left his sockets, he got the exact reaction he sought. He attacked again, trying to take Tommy while the boy dealt with the horrid sight.

But Tommy had been taught more than just tactics. He understood magic. He slipped by the green magic and looked upon his tattoos. Seconds later the rock formations below rocketed into the air like missiles guided straight for Javery.

“Clumsy, you brat,” Javery said.

Tommy shifted his focus to his other arm, his eyes as heartless as Malja’s. The ground below cracked as if caused by an earthquake, and from the opening snaked out thorny vines. They reached into the air as fast as lightning and wrapped around Javery’s ankles. As he struggled, more vines climbed him until he had been wrapped in a cocoon of thorny vines.

Then they tightened.

Javery’s eyes widened. “Stop. Don’t kill me.”

Tommy gazed up at him with a strange expression. It was as if the boy had only just become aware of his surroundings. Like a drunk waking up at a stranger’s door.

“Listen to me, boy. I’m only trying to help my people. I’m no threat to you or anybody who stands with me for all Carsites.” Javery twisted and turned, but his action only tightened the vines worse.

The boy continued to stare at him with that insufferable expression.

“Let me go. Now! I have to get back to my people. I’ve got to show them who is their leader.”

Javery’s rage flooded him without warning. A wave of breaking bones traveled up his spine. He wanted to scream, but the huge burst of magic that rushed from his body, incinerating the vines, left him exhausted and smiling.

The boy was no more — nothing remained.
Easier than I thought.
Javery turned to head back to the war when a simple idea stopped him — Druzane. She would never have volunteered for combat which meant that she would be stationed in town, tending to the wounded.

He hovered in the air and concentrated on her image. Anger edged around him, growing hotter until his rage came forth, but still he focused on her. He wanted his magic to find her, guide him to her. All of his fingers snapped backwards, and he sent a blast out for her. Not what he had planned, but he expected that would be it. Like killing Tommy, killing Druzane would not be satisfying, but at least it would be done.

He heard the scream first. Then, he saw her. Druzane. Soaring across the sky, terrified, and heading for him. His magic had grabbed and delivered her. Incredible.

She stopped before him. Her eyes popped wide, and her body shivered. She opened her mouth, staring at Javery’s monstrous visage, and she wailed.

“This is much better,” he said, laughing as her screams turned to weeping.

Javery readied his magic. He pictured it tearing her in half and letting every dishonest organ in her body drip to the merciless ground. But he felt weak. His body needed too much time, and he wanted her suffering to start at once.

Then I’ll do it with my hands.

As Javery moved in on her, dirt and rock sprayed from below. He glanced down in time to see Tommy’s fist knock him in the jaw. As he fell back, he saw Tommy sweep an arm at Druzane — she soared back to the town. Whisked away and very much alive.

Javery drifted along a hillside until he saw another Waypoint station. As his bones reformed, he set down at the top of the station and fell to his knees. Not too far away, Tommy crouched on the ground, staring at his tattoos.

Good
, Javery thought. While evident that Tommy’s magic was different than his own, they both shared the need to take time between casting.
And since I didn’t kill him so easy, the more time I get, the better my chances
. He gazed into the distance and promised that once he finished with Tommy, he would make Druzane feel the pain of her betrayal. But first, he needed time.

“They don’t understand us, do they?”

Tommy did not look up, and his fingers clawed the ground.

“I suppose it makes sense,” Javery went on. “People fear power, and magic is a tremendous raw power. It makes us different, separates us, and in some ways, can drive us a little mad.”

Tommy’s fingers dug deeper, burying his hands in the dirt.

Javery pressed his palm against the cool stone of the Waypoint station. “Even before I had magic, I felt that fear. Shual didn’t have the vision, didn’t understand the potential, so he feared it. That fear leads those we love to make poor decisions. After all, was it not fear that sent Malja chasing Harskill? Was it not that fear that brought you to this point?”

Tommy launched into the air and tackled Javery. He punched hard and pressed his knee into Javery’s stomach.

The pain lit Javery’s instinctive response, and what little magic he had built up to that point shot out in all directions, sending Tommy high into the air. Tommy spread his arms like wings and halted in the sky. In rapid succession, the boy glanced at his arm, stared at a tattoo glowing brightly, and threw an elemental magic down upon Javery. Fire, stone, ice, and wind shot out one after the other with little aim but devastating destruction. They bashed into the Waypoint station, demolished the rock formations still standing nearby, and churned up the ground below.

Spears of ice headed straight for Javery’s head. Still running on instinct, his bones snapped and small bullets of magic tore into the air, each one intercepting the ice. Tommy never slowed to see the results of his attack. He kept throwing all he could muster.

Javery leaped into the air, bending his arms so that the sharp tusks poking from his elbows led the attack. His leg bones continued to break as magic pulsed out of his head to take down Tommy’s furious assault. Right before Javery struck, Tommy noticed and attempted to get out of the way. He evaded the right tusk but the left scored a hit, cutting the boy along the side.

Javery somersaulted in the air, righting himself to face the boy again. Both femurs split as he poured out a massive energy blast. He hit Tommy on the wounded side, spinning the boy into the ground. The magic continued on, however, and bore straight through the Waypoint station.

Before the rubble had settled, it rose back in the air. Tommy. That piece of crap refused to die.

The boy levitated at least half of the debris and threw it all at once. Like an onslaught of archer’s arrows, the various-sized stones hurling toward Javery made escape impossible. He curled in a ball and tried to form the magic field that had protected him before.

He failed. Four fist-sized rocks and hundreds of small pebbles cut into his body. When the strikes finished, he straightened and saw the ruined Waypoint.

“You did this,” he said, pointing at Tommy. The boy looked weaker, tired. “How dare you. You come to my home, you deny me the right to exact revenge on the whore that betrayed me, and now, by Carsite, you cause me to destroy my greatest achievement.” Flames ignited out of Javery’s eye sockets. “Die!”

Chapter 37

Malja

The Summoning Horn sounded its high-pitched
tut-tut-tut-tut
. The signal. Malja did not have to say a thing to Canto or his men. They were already marching out.

Malja peered through her spyglass once more. She would catch up with the men in a minute. She had to watch, had to know. She saw the autoflys breaking off from the fight. Two suffered hits in their retreat — one sputtering away but flying, one taking the long dive to the ground.

Once the Horn silenced, she counted the seconds in her head. It shouldn’t take long, even with only a handful of people left on the ship to help Fawbry. One second. Two. Five seconds passed. Ten. It shouldn’t take so long.

“Come on, Fawbry,” she said.

The two large guns on deck moved a bit — at least, she thought they did. That would explain the delay. And before Malja’s mind could conjure up too many horrific scenarios for Fawbry’s fate, the guns fired.

One at a time, they erupted with deep thuds and huge flames from their barrels. Thick, black smoke billowed around each gun. Back and forth they shot, decimating the Scarite’s air force. Each thundering blast rocked the
Nittilo
hard.

“Slow down,” Malja whispered, but Fawbry forgot about the recoil.
No, he didn’t
. Krunlo had warned him several times when they prepped the warship. Like a great leader, Fawbry knew they had to fire as fast as possible to inflict the most damage. Any slower and the Scarites would have scattered, allowing too many to fight on. They would destroy the Carsites by sheer numbers. But a fast volley meant maximum casualties, even if such an action might result in his own death. Malja saw true grit in his actions.

The gunfire ceased, and the warship remained upright. Malja brought out Viper and headed towards the men, but a blast louder than any before erupted. She brought the spyglass up so fast that she hit her eye hard. By the residual cloud of smoke and the numerous enemies dropping from the sky, she knew that Fawbry had shot everything at once. Any Scarite dumb enough to have remained in the air met Death in an instant.

The warship teetered like a newborn losing its balance. With a long, whining creak, it fell over. The shifting weight spun the ship back, and one end dipped lower than the other. Poor design never accounted for such an odd distribution of weight — the hull cracked. Half the ship hung by the active magic in its metal walls; the other half crashed into the rocks. A fiery ball filled the air above the warship, its heat momentarily covering what remained of the battle.

Fawbry, you better have gotten off that ship before it went down,
Malja thought as she hurried to catch up with Canto and his men.