The Way of the Brother Gods (18 page)

Up ahead, she saw the twisted railing Barris Mont had attempted to impale her on. It took a few extra seconds to climb over, but every one of those seconds bore in on Malja with the entire weight of the Dish. Running again, heart pounding, she pushed out all thoughts. Just run. Even the do-kha would have to wait. Any other thought would slow her down, make her doubt, cause her fear.

The schuco continued to raise its pitch, sounding less like a singer and more like a whining brat.

Malja's leg muscles complained but her do-kha sent massaging warmth to keep them strong. She tried to stay focused, but her heart leaped at the idea that her suit was responding to her — delayed from her immediate needs but responding nonetheless. She fell on the slick ground, rolled through a putrid puddle, and popped back to her feet. Cursing, she hurried on. A part of her mind, however, lingered over the idea that some day, she would master her do-kha. Covered in filth, she bolted through the tunnel until she saw the opening in the ceiling and the knotted rope dangling from it.

As she climbed, the schuco screamed. Her hands slipped and the schuco wailed. When she pulled into the air duct, the schuco let loose.

A wave of magic broke out of the schuco and soared along the conduit like a galloping horse. It passed several feet under Malja, but the power of it knocked her to her stomach. Her head hit the soft metal of the air duct.

And she saw through Tommy. The Dish vibrated hard enough to catch the attention of the Bluesmen. They didn't stop playing their music. They couldn't. But they exchanged looks of concern and confusion. Tommy's focus, however, shifted to his feet. He watched the tiles on the Dish intensely, and though Malja could feel him struggling against Barris Mont, Tommy managed to stop pulling magic from the Dish. The Bluesmen stumbled as their magic no longer fought against anything. Without hesitation, Tommy raised an emerald bubble around himself. And he watched as the Dish exploded.

Malja kicked out a vent cover and shimmied from the air duct. She flopped to the floor of a room lined with benches and metal storage containers. The building shook so hard, she couldn't stand.

First, the edge of the Dish erupted. Metal, concrete, stone, and Bluesmen geysered into the sky. In the next second, another ring closer in erupted. Moving in concentric circles, the Dish shattered into the air, nearing to Tommy with each explosion. Thick smoke billowed and fire plumed as the deafening storm of destruction surrounded him. Tommy took one last glance at his feet. Just in time to see the tiles beneath him explode.

Malja screamed.

Chapter 21

Sunlight. It warmed her like a memory of Uncle Gregor filling their little shack with the aroma of sizzling eggs. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a fleeting second, she wondered if she had been dreaming this whole time. Then reality slammed into her.

Chunks of stone and metal covered her, and chalky dust filled the air. Half the ceiling had disappeared letting the morning sun break through. How long had she been unconscious? A huge metal beam had fallen and now ran from floor to ceiling like a narrow ramp. And that wonderful aroma turned out to be the cooking skin of someone down the corridor.

Malja extricated herself from the debris and checked over her body. She seemed okay, though she still had the constant throb of aches and several cuts on her hands and head. Looking at the damaged room, she thought how every time she had a chance to heal, something else tore her apart.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on Tommy. She had to make sure he was okay.

But nothing happened.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

"Tommy?" she called out, her voice dying in the debris-cluttered room.

Nothing.

As she stepped toward the fallen beam, her eye noticed something pale and thin on the ground. She knew it at once — the bit of Barris Mont that had wriggled its way beneath her skin. It had been the way she connected with Tommy, and now that it was gone, so was her connection.

She kicked at the beam, testing its sturdiness, and then climbed. At the top, she stepped out on the surface of the destroyed Dish. What once had been a giant bowl of smooth, organized tiles now looked like the ruins of any city found anywhere in Corlin. Rubble and smoke, blood and bodies, metal and tile — all strewn about the Dish with no sense of order.

Malja clambered over and around the mounds and worked toward the center. "Tommy, are you okay? Tommy?"

When she saw the boy, tears welled in her eyes. He lay still and unconscious but breathing. The ground around him was untouched as if the explosions she had witnessed through his eyes had chosen to stop in a neat circle around him.

And the madness was gone. He wasn't floating. He wasn't catatonic. He wasn't glowing with magic. He simply slept on the ground like any boy might.

She crouched next to him and stroked his arm. With a grunt, he rolled to the side, and Malja pulled back at what she saw. A gray tube as thick as her arm snaked out of Tommy's right side. No blood, no gaping wound, but one end of this thing burrowed deep beneath Tommy's skin. The thing was covered in veins and eyes, and at the end not connected to Tommy, Malja saw a mop of tentacles. She knew exactly what it was — Barris Mont.

She reached out and gently poked Barris. He recoiled from her touch and Tommy winced. Though she wanted to slice the bastard off Tommy right away, she worried she might cause him serious problems. Better to wait for Cole. That old woman might know what to do.

"Malja?" a voice called out. "Malja?"

"Fawbry! Over here!"

Fawbry staggered in, his unruly hair covered in dust, his face stunned. "What is it with you? Everywhere we go, things like this happen." Circling, he gestured toward the destruction all around. He glanced down at Tommy and nodded. "Thank Kryssta."

"Cole?" Malja asked.

Shaking his head, he said, "She heard the schuco screaming, building up its energy, and knew what would happen. We were laying on the floor — she asked me to hold her. I thought that was it. We were going to die like that. I was certain of it. But just before the explosion, she rolled to the side and shoved me under the table. Then she rolled on top of me and took the brunt of the damage. I don't know where she found the strength to do any of that, she acted possessed, but she saved me. She kissed me. Actually said she was sorry." He rubbed his stump.

"I'm thankful you're okay," Malja said. The words sounded awkward but Fawbry smiled anyway. "Tommy needs some help."

"Let's get something to carry him out," Fawbry said. "I'm sick of this place."

After a few minutes searching, they found a wooden tabletop missing a long plank down the middle. Otherwise, it seemed fairly sturdy. Working together, they eased Tommy onto the table, positioning the still-connected Barris Mont at his side, and lifted. Fawbry groaned but managed his end well enough. As they maneuvered around the numerous obstructions, Fawbry took the backwards walking end so Malja could concentrate more on Tommy.

"He'll be okay," Fawbry said.

"I know. He's the strongest boy I've ever met. How about you, though? Are you okay?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Considering all that you've put me through, this isn't so bad. Though I must admit, you've got me thinking I should've taken my parents up on that arranged marriage. I could be home right now in a warm bed with a warm wife."

Malja chuckled. "We can head back up there, if you want."

"Don't you dare," Fawbry said, and Malja laughed outright.

It felt good to let her stresses go that way — rare and good. If nothing else, Fawbry brought that side of her to the surface. She looked up to tell him as much when she saw his face drop. Paling as his eyes drifted beyond her — and raised high above. She heard the sound of falling stone and metal. Rubble cascading to the ground like hale as something large emerged from the piles.

Gentle and slow, she lowered the tabletop and pulled out Viper. Fawbry did not move. Malja whirled around thinking she was ready for anything.

Then she saw what had become of Wolf.

The magic infused into his body, the magic that had smashed into him with the schuco's overloaded pulse, had altered him into a gigantic beast. He rose from the rubble until he stood nearly twenty feet high. His pigment had changed to crimson. His hair fell out, replaced by numerous horns — sharp and pointing in all directions. His fingers had reformed into three vicious claws. Even his eyes had lost all human quality becoming yellow, vertical slits. Covered in skin-bursting muscle, he bared sharp, animal teeth, and roared loud enough to shake the ground.

"M-Malja," Fawbry said.

"Take Tommy to safety," she said, striding toward Wolf. "I'll handle this."

Chapter 22

While Malja circled Wolf, she listened to Fawbry's moans as he dragged Tommy away. Though Wolf had become a monstrous beast, he still showed enough intelligence to keep his focus on her — the real threat. That would make the battle more difficult but not impossible.

Malja whisked Viper back and forth, loosening up her arm and wrist, getting herself ready to defeat yet another monster of Corlin. Why was she lying to herself? Fighting a twenty foot, magically enhanced killer and surviving felt fairly impossible. She had been through enough battles in her life to judge the odds.

"No," she said in a short bark. "That's not the way." She forgave herself the small lapse of doubt. This was her first creature of this size, but she knew that being a warrior depended on never considering death as a possible outcome. Only one result could be plausible in her mind — success.

Wolf lifted his two meaty fists and smashed them on the ground. The jolt knocked debris off its piles. He bellowed hot breath, mindless rage in his eyes, and charged at her.

Malja stood her ground, feeling the pounding of his tree trunk legs reverberate up her bones. Her breathing shook and sweat coated her hands. A hurricane raced toward her, yet she held firm.

Though he was now a giant, Wolf's brain had not fully adjusted. He threw a right cross as if he were a normal-sized man in a normal-sized fight. The motion was extremely powerful but slow.

As his fist tore up the ground like a runaway boulder, Malja danced to the side and sprang onto Wolf's arm. She ran along the muscle toward his shoulder, his enormous eye following her even as his body struggled to change its momentum. At his shoulder, Malja plunged Viper deep into his skin.

Wolf straightened, pressing Malja with a rush of cold air, and moved to brush her off like a bug. Malja gripped Viper as tight as she ever had before and dropped down Wolf's back. He roared as Viper sliced down his back, slowing Malja's descent, tearing open skin and muscle. She turned toward his side, continuing to gouge out pieces of his thigh until Viper slipped out.

Malja fell the last six feet and smacked into the ground. Chunks of the Dish dug into her side and she bit her tongue. Spitting blood from her mouth, she got to her feet — slower than she wanted — and reset her body position for the next attack.

Wolf flexed his muscular arms toward the sky. The skin on his back, slick with blood from the jagged crevice Malja had cut, began to pull back together. "Korstra!" he shouted. "Korstra!" Malja didn't believe in the brother gods, but she understood that uncontrolled magic could do unpredictable things. No god healed Wolf. The magic that changed him also healed him. In seconds, the wound was no more than a scar. Wolf faced Malja with a pitying shake of his head.

He jumped into the air — all twenty-feet and thousands of pounds — leaping to crush her with his body. Malja sprinted to the side, trying to get out from under the shadow of the giant's body blocking out the sun. Like an aged tree falling to the ground, he crashed just behind her, sending a shockwave through the air powerful enough to throw her across the Dish. She tumbled into the rubble, feeling every jagged rock, every metal bar, every bit of tile as it all slowed her down and cut into her.

All of her aches ignited, but she forced her body to move. She grabbed what once might have been a chair and used it to get back on her feet. Wolf also struggled to stand. Unfamiliar with being so huge, he had failed to judge the damage such an impact would have on his new body.

But he would heal.

Her do-kha rippled around her body, and she felt a burst of strength fill her like an adrenaline rush. Her aches dulled and her balance returned. Not perfect, but she could fight on.

Wolf coughed in the cloud of dust around his head — a deep, rumbling sound. When he stood, he had grown taller. At least another foot. Stranger still, two arms had formed out of his stomach, each ending with a five-fingered hand. The new arms reached down and picked up a large chunk of rock. They tossed the rock to his upper arms, and he held it over his head. He turned in a slow motion, scanning through the destruction, until he saw her. Then he hurtled the rock towards her.

Malja dodged it with ease, but as she moved, she saw his new arms grab another rock. Wolf threw this one right away, and the new arms grabbed another. Again and again, he tossed these slabs of stone, bits of stairway, broken chairs, and metal chunks at her.

Malja dashed through the maze of debris as fast as she could manage without spilling over or twisting an ankle. The projectiles smashed into the ground behind her, breaking into bits that flew off in all directions. Little stones and chips of wood pelted her back as she ran.