The Way of the Brother Gods (11 page)

As they rounded a curve, Cole moved toward the tunnel wall where a tiny alcove formed shadows. Malja jogged to Cole's side. A metal door with rivets running along a seam in the middle blocked their way. Cole lifted her head and smiled. "I found this place when I first explored the sewers. Never thought I'd really need it, but after all we went through with Jarik and Callib, I figured I should be better prepared in the future." She pulled out a key, unlocked and opened the door.

Inside, Malja saw a small room with a single cot and boxes of provisions piled high on one wall. Containers of water lined the opposite wall. Under the cot, Malja spied some types of machines and several books. Above the cot, mounted on the wall, was a monitor similar to the one in the infirmary with two smaller monitors above.

"You've got a little hideaway," Fawbry said, flopping onto the cot. "This is wonderful."

From the doorway, Cole watched the others settle in. She wore an odd expression as if she were reliving a sad memory. She saw Malja observing and said, "I'm fine. I just expected that this might be where I went to die."

"That might still happen," Malja said, turning her focus to the main monitor. Though it didn't cycle through as many cameras as the previous one, it did provide her with the ability to see more of what was going on above them. In a battle, every bit of information helped.

Over Malja's shoulder, Cole watched the monitors. A few cameras relayed stark images of workers dead on the ground. The picture flicked to an empty hall, and then to a young woman being devoured by a giant insect. Cole sniffled and rubbed away the tears dribbling down her cheek.

"They deserved better," she said before turning away.

Fawbry surveyed the room and patted the brick wall. "This should be safe for awhile. And now that we're not in immediate danger, what're we supposed to do?"

"I've got to carve a way through them," Malja said, her eyes turning icy as she watched the monitor. "Kill enough of them, and they'll either give up and leave or they'll want to negotiate some kind of truce. Either way, we'll get out of here alive."

"Sounds good to me," Fawbry said with extra-enthusiasm. "I'll watch over Tommy and Cole while you're gone." He raised his hand to fend of Malja's concern. "I'll watch them carefully. I won't let anything happen to Tommy. You've got my word."

Malja looked over Tommy. He had a small cut on his forehead from banging around the air duct but appeared fine, otherwise — for a boy sharing his body with a powerful creature, sporting multiple eyes and undulating tentacles, and being locked in some kind of catatonia.
I can't fail him,
she thought. Then she closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She was about to go into battle. Worrying about things beyond her immediate control only served her enemies.

"With so many Bluesmen spread throughout this entire building, I'll have to take them out one or two at a time. And it'll have to be done quietly so I don't alert the others until I've reduced them by at least half. The rest will get nervous or even panic. That'll make them hesitate when they face me, and that will give me the extra seconds to kill each one with ease."

Fawbry paled. "Isn't there a more direct approach?"

"You don't like my plan?"

"It's just that it relies on stealth. And you've never been one for quiet, sneaking around. Every time I've ever tried to do that kind of thing with you, you just walk right up and start slashing."

Malja tucked her long braided hair under her collar and opened the door. "I'll be fine."

Fawbry nodded and pulled out his copy of
The Book of Kryssta.
He flipped through the pages, urgently searching.

"You're going to pray before I go? You've never done that before."

Looking up from the book with a chilled expression, Fawbry said, "You've never done something like this before."

Chapter 14

Malja skirted down the edge of the sewer tunnel until she reached the opening in the ceiling that led to the air ducts. A few turns in the ducts and she had passed beyond the reach of the sewer's stench. Crawling in the tight space, she moved with careful precision to avoid making too much noise.

Whenever she found a vent, she held still and peered through. Twice she came upon Bluesmen, but they walked in a full four-man unit. Though she didn't want to do so, if she had to, she could take on four enemies at once. But the attack would be very risky.

Awkwardly slipping out of the duct without losing the element of surprise would be hard enough. But against four, it would be near impossible to engage them all at once. Somebody would be free from her attacks, free to run off and warn others. That was unacceptable.

She would have to be patient.

Further on, she saw another unit followed by two of the giant insects. Two more Bluesmen followed, each holding leashes tied around the insects. They didn't look any happier than the bugs.

At length, she came upon a curved hall that was empty. She waited. She listened. Nobody came by and she never heard the echo of a voice or a footfall.

Her instinct was to kick open the vent and drop to the floor, but as Fawbry had pointed out, this mission required stealth. Moving slowly, trying to be quiet, Malja eased the vent loose and pulled it inside the duct. She paused long enough to listen once more before slipping through the opening and onto the floor.

The ceiling sloped sharply. Just above must be the Dish. A thick tube large enough to crawl through ran parallel to the floor along the inside of the curved hall. Every few seconds the tube pulsed.

Malja placed her hand on the tube's surface. Warmth shot up her arm like putting on a shirt that had been in the sun all day. When she took her hand off, the comforting feeling left just as fast.

"It shouldn't feel good, should it?" a male voice said from behind.

Malja turned slowly but kept her hands at her side. The Bluesman held a gun on her — single shot handgun with a dented barrel and chipped wood on the grip. His dark skin hid his features in the shadows, but she could still make out his fine suit and a glint of the guitar on his back.

"It's just a big mass of wires," he went on. "So why does it feel good to touch? Personally, I think it's because your friend, Cole Watts, keeps on messing with things she don't understand, and this is just one of the side effects. Course, not everyone agrees with that. Some think there's no harm in using magic like this. But you and I know better, don't we?"

"We do?"

"Magic is the power of the brother gods. Did Kryssta come down here and say that we should meddle in the ways of gods? Did Korstra tap babies on their heads to grant them such power? No. We've stolen the power and misused it. It was never meant for people. That's why we go insane when we use magic too often."

"What about your music? I've seen it cast spells before."

"The old Bluesmen did that. The ones that followed Cole Watts to their grave. Ones like my brother," he said and stepped closer.

Malja recognized him right away — practically a twin. "You're Willie's brother."

"That's right. My name's Wolf."

A chill rushed through Malja, but she did her best to hide any outward reaction.

Wolf went on, "You ought to understand right now that the only one reason I haven't shot you dead is that I want you to take me to Cole Watts. Some of the Bluesmen want to tear you apart, too, but I don't care about you. It's Watts I want. You're nothing. You just got in the way. But that old betrayer — she promised us many things, great power, the chance to leave this ruined world, and we gave her everything — most of us even gave our lives. My brother gave his."

"Your brother didn't die for her. He followed Old McKinley. They tried to take power from Cole, not give it to her."

"Because she was failing us. She has to pay. And once she's dead, we'll tear this place down. No one should have power like this. We are not gods."

"Sorry," Malja said, taking two specific steps into the center of the hall — one foot forward, one slightly back. Not quite a basic fighting stance, but enough that she could maneuver into a better position with ease. "I won't take you to her. If it helps any, she's probably going to die on her own fairly soon."

Wolf raised the gun. "You will take me to her, or I'll shoot you."

"You've got a serious problem, now. I've been shot at before by guns that were in far better condition than that thing, and you only get one shot. Chances are that gun won't do much. Even if one of the brother gods smiles on you and the bullet hits me, you'd have to be really lucky to kill me. And that's when your problem gets worse. Because if I'm still alive after you shoot, I'll have Viper cutting open your throat before you have time to get your sword out."

Though Wolf did not move, his eyes scanned over his gun. Malja watched closely, but Wolf gave away nothing in his face, and his body language was equally silent. She couldn't tell what he planned to do.

Raising the corner of his lips, Wolf lowered the gun to his side and let it clunk on the floor. "I was hoping the threat would be enough. Too bad, really. Now, I've got to actually kill you."

Malja felt a twinge of pity. These Bluesmen loved their sword-hidden-in-the-guitar-neck trick. But she would cut him down long before he could get his hand up to the guitar neck. He didn't know it, yet, but he was dead.

As if reading her thoughts, Wolf shook his head and with the flick of his wrist, a long blade slid from his right sleeve, it's narrow grip stopping perfectly in Wolf's hand.

As she spun Viper free, Malja's battle grin rose. "Cute," she said.

"You liked it? Then you can see it again." Wolf flicked his other wrist, and a second blade slid from his left sleeve. He bent his knees and lifted both blades into a ready position.

Malja lowered into her full fighting stance and let out a calming breath. More than anything in life, she understood this. All her troubles, concerns, and fears vanished as her focus limited the world to the man holding two swords.

Wolf raised one sword overhead and charged, betraying a lack of experience. If not for the second sword, Malja would easily block the attack and cut down her enemy. But fighting two swords means two different attacks at the same time. If she blocked the overhead blade, the lower blade would cut upward and gut her.

When Wolf reached the strike zone, she lowered Viper and spun it so the inside-crescent faced upward. Then she blocked straight up, using Viper like a giant hook to catch both blades. Wolf tried to swing his blades free, but Malja followed the motion. They looked like dancers making large circles with their weapons.

After three revolutions, Wolf wised. He stepped backward, freeing his swords by pulling them straight towards him. Malja reset, preparing for the next attack.

She caught a quiver in Wolf's cheek — perhaps doubting his ability, wondering if he could survive this confrontation. But his eyes never looked away from her. She understood that look of determination. He had a brother to avenge. Nothing but death would stop him.

"I've been down your path," she said. "Vengeance will not bring you peace."

Showing no interest in words, Wolf thrust towards her neck and waist at the same time. Viper's curved blade covered a wide enough distance to deflect the attack, but Malja knew her opponent would adjust on the next strike. She couldn't give him that time.

Stepping out to the right, Malja swung for Wolf's head — a smaller target than the body but also awkward to defend with both blades. Wolf ducked. Before he could pop back up, Malja kicked with her left leg. She connected with his chest, sending him flailing against the thick tube running along the wall.

He pushed off, unable to hide a shiver from the odd sensations of the tube, and quickly returned to his senses. Lunging forward, he thrust his right blade for her face and left blade at her knee. Too far apart for Viper to catch both.

Malja raised one leg high and stomped down on the knee-striking blade. At the same time, she shoved Viper upward for the block. When she heard the metal clang, she turned Viper in a practiced motion that slipped her enemies blade down enough for Viper to rotate back and lock the sword. She put all her weight forward, pressing the other blade into the floor.

Wolf's shocked eyes met her calm gaze. He was bent over but still gripping the two swords that he no longer had control over. Malja looked over his face for a second, seeing Willie and remembering all that had happened years ago. That second was a mistake.

Wolf let go of both weapons and shot forward, tackling Malja to the floor. When she hit the hard surface, the air in her lungs coughed out. She kept hold of Viper, but with Wolf straddling her, she didn't have enough leverage to swing the blade. Nor enough air. Wolf punched her chest, her jaw, her shoulder. He didn't aim at all. Just pummeling his fists over and over. And tears fell.

Malja tried to bridge, arching her back to upset Wolf's balance, but he was heavy and she needed a full breath. She tried again anyway. To her surprise, Wolf flung back as if she had punched him hard in the chin.

When she jumped to her feet, an unseen hand pressed against her, keeping her from attacking. Two Bluesmen entered, each holding a gun that looked more capable than Wolf's ever did. Behind them, the Bluesmen's magician stood. Staring at his tattoo, he raised one hand and Viper yanked free from Malja. It drifted across the hall and settled into the magician's hand. Bowing slightly, the magician stepped aside.