The Way of the Blade (33 page)

“They’re coming,” Canto said when she arrived.

Not far ahead, the Scarite ground troops headed off to face Fawbry’s forces. Behind them, the three division leaders stood, each perched atop one of the rock formations, each at a point equally wide apart from the other, forming a triangle. Beneath them, a sickly glow rose on a mist and reflected upon their faces.

A snake-well? Perhaps they found one, and that’s why they chose this location for their camp. No. The snake-well wasn’t a natural occurrence like the Great Well. Harskill had to have made this one for them. Considering he said all the wells were connected, it couldn’t have been that hard to tap into the nearest power source for magic and make a new well.

“Malja,” Canto said. “Hurry.”

She looked up. All the men scurried along, parallel with the Scarite force. She hadn’t even noticed them moving out. Crouching low, she joined them in shadowing their enemy. When the Scarites engaged Fawbry’s force, Canto’s men would be in perfect flanking position.

That moment came along faster than Malja had expected. Hirasa led the ground troops, rushing head-on into the Scarite force, firing her weapon as she moved. Despite their courage and the successful air battle, the Carsites were still outnumbered. The Scarites continued to bring fresh troops whenever they were needed, and without the
Nittilo,
the Carsites firepower had become severely limited.

“Ready?” Canto asked Malja.

She gave him a nod, and he stood up with his weapon raised high. “Attack!”

The men rushed into the mix, wielding their makeshift weaponry, clobbering every Scarite that got in their path. Blood, limbs, and bodies dropped to the ground — enough that the dirt turned to mud and moving became a hazardous prospect.

Malja pushed ahead of the men, sweeping Viper to clear out as many Scarites as she could, to make things easier on the exhausted men. It was no good, though. For every enemy she struck down, three more appeared.

At the same time, however, they seemed to be making progress. The flanking maneuver had helped to reduce the pressure on Hirasa’s group. They killed enough Scarites for both forces to regroup together and face the next line straight ahead.

“Follow me,” Canto yelled and sprinted forward. Roaring with him, the rest of the Carsites followed. The autoflys returned, skimming over the Scarite heads but not being too effective — it was difficult to reach over with a sword and not fall out.

Malja’s extensive experience in battle had taught her that no matter how skilled a warrior could become, every fight included some measure of luck. That luck showed itself when she stayed back for a moment and grabbed Hirasa’s arm. “Fawbry? Tommy?”

Hirasa shrugged. “Sorry.”

A short exchange, but one that caused both women to be passed by the Carsite force, to be behind them all when Ten Snakes, Red Head, and One-Eye acted. In unison, the three unleashed their magic, sending a wave of acid across the battlefield. Scarite, Carsite — it made no difference. The acid ate up everything in its path. The entire front line of the Carsite troops sizzled into smoke and ash. Screams were cut short, and the full-on charge abruptly pulled up to a halt. The autoflys burned up and crashed into the Scarites. Though the Scarites suffered as well, Ten Snakes shouted an order anyway. Those still capable pressed their assault.

Hirasa’s mouth dropped and quivered. Her eyes filled.

Malja scanned the battlefield. She saw no sign of Canto or Krunlo. “Hirasa, listen to me.” But Hirasa stared at the oncoming horde of Scarites without emotion, as if she saw nothing ahead of her, only wisps of smoke. Malja slapped the girl in the face. That got her attention. “Hirasa, this fight is lost. If we’re going to survive, you have to get everyone out of here.”

“H-How?”

“Break them up into small groups. Three or four people at the most. Scatter them in the trees and around those huge rocks. Tell them to find their way back to town. We’ll regroup there and figure out what to do.”

“We run and hide?”

“We had our chance, but this is suicide, if we stay.”

“But —”

“Go. That’s an order.”

Hirasa rushed off and did as told. Malja ran toward the crashed warship, sheathing Viper as she moved.

Battlefields are always a disarrayed collection of random motions trying desperately to stick to a useless plan. Eventually, some solid approach can be found in the chaos. But this — this was madness. Both forces hurried in all directions. Screams and tears. People shouting names. The stinging stench of bodies dissolving into nothing. Occasionally, fighting broke out again, but all those who survived Ten Snakes’ attack had little taste for bloodshed anymore. The newer Scarites rumbled in like a thick wall, moving ever forward. They fought little, letting the madness devour itself and preventing anybody from getting beyond them, but otherwise, they simply moved forward — slow and steady.

Malja broke into a sprint. She had to get far enough ahead of this Scarite wall. Her do-kha kept her muscles loose as she pressed harder.

When she neared the warship, a voice called out, “Malja!”

Stumbling to a stop, she spun around. Fawbry leaned against a rock while his three gunners nursed their wounds nearby. Malja rushed up and hugged him. He tensed under her arms but didn’t fight.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You get knocked in the head?”

Letting go, she laughed. “I thought you might’ve died up there. I’m just pleased to see you.”

Leading her away from the others, he said, “Don’t be too pleased. We’ve lost this thing.”

“Did you really think we’d win?”

“It seemed like a good plan.”

“You did fine. The odds were against the Carsites from the start.”

Kicking at the dirt, Fawbry said, “Now what? We leave? Assassinate Harskill? What?”

“Harskill’s gone. At least, I think he is. Javery showed up and threw him into the ocean. But he never surfaced. Javery ... he isn’t a person anymore. He’s mutated. I suspect Harskill thought that added enough craziness for his own goals, so he opened a portal underwater and is in some other world now. That’s just a guess, though.”

“Sounds like him. He seems to run off when things get heated.”

“Well, we’re not doing that.”

“No?” A tiny grin rose on his lips.

“No. We put these people on the field of battle, and if we leave now, we might as well have murdered them all. The Scarites will overtake the country, and they’ll exact a vicious revenge. Without Harskill, Ten Snakes will most likely rule, and he just showed us all, he’s willing to kill his own people, if necessary. So, we stay.”

Fawbry shook dirt from his hair. “That sounds noble and honorable and wonderful, except for the fact that we don’t have a way to stop them. I don’t know what we can do. We’ll end up dying here.”

“Then we die on the side of right.”

Fawbry looked into her eyes. She could see his mind turning one idea after another. Finally, he placed his only hand on her shoulder and bowed his head. “Malja, I will always stand by your side. If you think this is the right thing to do, then I’ll be here.”

“I’m glad you said that. Because I’ve got an idea. It’ll probably get us killed, but if it works, I think we’ll end the entire war before it’s had a chance to get too far along.”

“What do you need?”

“Tommy. Do you know where he is?”

Chapter 38

Javery

The stupid kid refused to die. They were both exhausted, and they had reduced the surrounding area to a blackened war zone. Javery stood next to the ruins of his Waypoint station while Tommy crouched at the ground, once more sticking his hand into the dirt.

“You won’t win this,” Javery said. “My magic regenerates faster than yours. Surely, you’ve noticed. Each time we’ve stopped like this, I’m ready to fight sooner than you. The odds are that eventually, I’ll kill you before you can cast a spell to save yourself.”

Tommy did not respond. Javery kept expecting the boy to say something, but he never talked.

“You must be lonely,” Javery said. “Don’t feel that way. Trust me about this. Talking with people is worthless. They all lie and betray you — their promises mean nothing. Even when they promise you their heart.”

He felt the change in his body that told him he had enough power to attack. But he held back. If he didn’t strike decisively, this would go on for hours — maybe days. And the longer this went on, the more chances Tommy had to get lucky with an attack. No, not lucky. The boy had tremendous skill and far greater control over his magic. Javery had to finish this now.

An idea struck him — a way to make his attack more forceful. First, he thought of the one thing that enraged him the most — Druzane. In seconds, his bones broke. This time his toes cracked and the tusks from his elbows split. But instead of attempting to guide his magic to a target, Javery used all his focus to hold back. To chain down his magic, refuse to let it loose.

Right away, he noticed the difference. The magic built pressure against him, and he pushed it back. Tommy paid no attention, and that suited Javery perfectly. He continued to hold the magic inside, and as it became more and more difficult, he struggled not to let any of it slip out. He didn’t want Tommy to notice a thing — not until Javery let it all go in one colossal strike.

The pressure continued to mount. It tasted like bile in the back of his throat. This would end it. No choice left.

Tommy’s head jolted up, and he stared straight at Javery.

“No!” Javery had wanted more. He tried to wrangle the energy back in, but he had lost control. Streams of green magic poured out of him. It hit the ground in miniature explosions and shot off into the air. The Waypoint station debris lifted up and spun like a tornado had captured hold of it. Rocks burst into blue flames. A thick, muddy liquid oozed from every crack in the ground.

The tornado grew in size, and though Tommy dodged the individual rocks and chunks of wood, he could not escape the high winds. Knocked to the ground, he tried to roll out of the way of more debris, but Javery saw the boy get hit in the arm. That started a cascade of strikes — the legs, the head, the sides, the back.

Javery felt his body weakening, but he forced more energy out. His arms broke and his neck snapped. He shouted out the pain, yet he still attacked. The energy burst from him slammed into the prone boy, shoving him deeper into the dirt.

When the tornado broke apart, and the rocks fell back to the ground, Javery hovered over the boy with a smug grin. “You should never have challenged me.”

Tommy rolled onto his back and gazed at Javery through the veil of blood covering his face.

Javery opened his hands towards the sky. “I once thought you and I might share this world. You showed so much power. But you think you’re greater than you are. You think all should respect you simply because of your power. It’s not like that. You have to
make
them respect you. And yet, I still think we could have been friends.” Looking down with a sprinkle of pity, Javery sighed. “I hope you find peace in whatever follows death.”

Javery thrust out his arms ... and nothing happened. No bones broke. No energy pulsed from his skin. Nothing.

“Looks like you get a few more minutes to live.” Javery crossed his arms and sneered. He only had to wait long enough to deliver a short burst of magic. Not much. Tommy didn’t have much life left to cling to.

Except Tommy no longer looked beaten. Bloody and bruised, yes, but not exhausted — not beaten. The boy sat up, keeping his right hand in the ground, and he had a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

Javery’s stomach twisted as he watched Tommy. Lights flashed on and off Tommy’s body. No, not lights — the boy’s tattoos. But they appeared where no tattoos were. Lines appearing as if lit strongly from inside and then vanishing back into his skin.

“What are you doing?” Javery demanded.

Now the boy’s smile grew into a teeth-gritting grin. His entire body lit up, forcing Javery to shield his eyes, and an odd wave thudded into the ground through Tommy’s buried hand. The tattoos faded away, and the boy collapsed onto his back.

“Sorry,” Javery said. “Your last attempt to defeat me has failed. And now, I promise you, mine won’t.”

Javery raised his hand once more. He pointed at Tommy to insure that all his magic struck the same point. And his ribs snapped apart.

The ground near Tommy shook. Before Javery could react, a cloud of dust billowed out from below. He heard a series of short, deep barks and an incessant rattle.

A wellspiker crawled out from the ground. A thick, snake body and six massive arms. Three enormous, jagged tusks grew from its head, curving in front and meeting at the points.

No, Javery had time to think. But little more. He couldn’t stop the burst of magic growing inside him, and the wellspiker sensed it with ease.

The giant creature leaped into the air and speared Javery on its tusks. When it hit the ground, it turned its head skyward, using gravity to secure Javery. Then it took him back underground.