by Pemry Janes
He had to take care not to damage anything else when he did that. Not easy when his left arm began to itch where he’d been cut. As if that itch had conjured the cause, the false Bitten Fin appeared.
Eurik tensed, but couldn’t move without interrupting his work and wasting the limited earth chiri he had. But the murderer barely gave him a look as he shielded his eyes and plunged through the fire into the room.
He’s not here for me. But that’s not my problem right now.
Concentrating on Sharp Prong again, he finished sealing her wound. It would be uncomfortable, but she wasn’t going to die. He coughed and realized that although she wouldn’t die from the stab, other dangers could kill them right now.
We have to move.
Shifting his position, he brought his arms under her shoulders and legs, tried to. His left arm felt like all the muscles had turned into water. His heart was beating faster and struggled against his attempt to calm it.
A glance at the arm shattered what optimism he had for Sharp Prong’s chances, and his own. The veins leading away from the cut—and some of the flesh itself—had a grayish tint. And the shaman’s heart hadn’t eased off its pace either, even though she wasn’t losing any blood anymore.
How could I forget? Silver Fang uses poison. Easy for him to get a hold of.
The false Bitten Fin rushed out of the room and ran for the stairs, stairs on which a lot of other feet were running. Eurik could hear them coming. Help was coming, but would it be in time?
Chapter 25
A Matter of Time
Leraine led the way down, the heavy bucket twisting and swinging with every bounding step. Captain Slyvair was right behind her, a bucket in either hand while everybody else came after with only one bucket or just a jug.
The heavy smell of burning wood and choking smoke met them, carried up by a warm wind. But they were armed to face this enemy. It wasn’t the first time Chappenuioc had faced fire and they had not only water, but sand to combat it.
And Rock can use that to stop this. I just hope the murderer hasn’t used this to try and escape.
Nobody was coming up the stairs, that should be a good sign. She did find Bitten Fin at the bottom of the steps, hunched over and clutching his stomach. “Hurry! The murderer is dead but it almost killed Sharp Prong. Put out the fire!”
He kept shouting, hurrying them along as they ran. The fire was out of control, spreading out over the walls and even the ceiling. The flames gave more than enough light to see Rock crouched over a fallen Sharp Prong even through the haze of ash and smoke.
“Rock! We have sand! Can you put out the fire with that?” She hacked a cough.
Her friend looked up and shook his head. “No! You have to go catch Bitten Fin! He’s the murderer!”
Leraine faltered, holding everybody behind her up for a moment before they started rushing around her. Of course, they hadn’t understood. Eurik had been speaking Linesan. Her mind grappled with the words as well, then her gaze fell on the still form of the guardian, his throat cut and blood no longer flowing. With a snarl, she dropped her bucket and ran back the way she’d come, Captain Slyvair hot on her heels.
Behind her she could hear the hiss of water hitting the fire. She’d have to leave that to them and Rock.
***
It was a small relief that Silver Fang didn’t question him; she simply accepted his claim and acted on it. That left the fire and the poison. He’d done what he could for Sharp Prong, but it had taken all the earth chiri he had to find the poison and draw it out along with the blood it had mingled with.
The people Silver Fang had gathered ignored him in favor of the fire. Jugs of water were splashed over the banners and walls; others threw buckets of sand. The latter could only work on ground level flames, but they gave him something to work with.
He struggled to his feet and staggered over as the itch worked its way up his arm. He’d had enough for Sharp Prong, but not himself. The ones who had thrown their load on the fire now raced back to get more, while a few scooped up the buckets Silver Fang and Captain Slyvair had dropped.
“Don’t throw them,” Eurik said, only to be met by incomprehension. Right, he needed to use their language. “I need. I can put the fire out. With sand.” It was hot down here, he was sweating and his heart beat against his ribs.
No, that’s not the heat.
They walked over to him, but not fast enough and he wasn’t steady. Impatient, he plunged his hand into the bucket and drew out the sand, then used a couple of tentacles of the stuff to siphon the other two.
It tempted him. He could siphon the earth chiri out of this sand and heal himself. But then he couldn’t use it to put out the fire. Without chiri the grains would fall apart. His left arm flopped as he turned and sent the sand out.
It connected with the piles of sand that had smothered some of the fire, adding it to its mass before it attacked the flames that had withstood the splashes of water. It covered every bit of burning wood and cloth in a blanket of sand, suffocating the flames before moving on.
And as the sand sought out the last of the flames, the itch crawled into his chest. The sand fell to the ground, so did Eurik. His knees hit the unyielding Inza stone as his right hand clawed at his chest.
People spoke, shouted. A hand on his shoulder. “Poison. I have—” He didn’t know what language he used as he finally lost the struggle and the itch became white hot pain squeezing his heart.
***
Leraine ran up the stairs, but she wasn’t the only one. She caught a glimpse of Captain Slyvair behind her, and up ahead she could hear more people coming down. This quick response was great: it would save much of the inner sanctum. But it also masked the murderer’s flight.
She gambled that it wasn’t going to hide. That it would try to use speed and its head start to evade pursuit. The gamble seemed to be the right one when she came across the shamans’ students still sorting themselves out. Someone had obviously plowed through them. Like she did now. “Make way! Coming through!”
She resisted the temptation to pull her club out to threaten them. It wasn’t needed anyway. Though now what? Had it kept going, or tried to hide on the level below the entrance to throw them off? But why risk getting cornered when it had what it wanted and an unobstructed path out of Chappenuioc?
Leraine kept going, only to stop in the fresh air. Where did it go? Left, right, forward? The nearest rope bridge, or maybe down a ladder?
Captain Slyvair moved past and threw himself down, his good ear to the floor.
“What are—”
“Quiet,” he hissed. The sun-man shifted his head. “There, running, away from us.” Captain Slyvair pushed himself up to his feet with a single heave and ran.
Leraine didn’t question it and followed. He led them to the outer walkway of the Inner Ring and went to the right. Evening had turned to night, the cold air burning in her lungs. She finally had the time to consider her failure.
How long had it impersonated Bitten Fin? How had she not noticed it wasn’t a Person? Was it going to get away with its crimes?
Finally she spotted a dark figure holding something. The height was right too. But they weren’t running, they were talking to someone else. The two heard them coming; one glance and they did run. That was good enough for Leraine. The second one had to be an accomplice. Why else would they run?
“Stop!” She had no hope they’d listen, but it might draw a guard’s attention. “Murd—”
Someone ran out of a corridor and collided with Captain Slyvair, shoulder first. The impact sent the sun-man off the walkway and through the railing. He somehow managed to grab the edge of the platform with his right hand rather than falling to his death.
The attacker acted quickly, already drawing a hidden sword and swinging it at Captain Slyvair’s fingers.
Leraine herself had been a mere three steps behind the long-limbed sun-man, close enough to act. She pulled out her
club and swung to interpose it. Rather than having his fingers sliced off, the club rapped him on the knuckles as the blade collided with her weapon.
Now she had a moment to think, to take stock. But that only brought fresh shock. The blade hadn’t been hidden, it had been coiled. The few warriors that used the segmented blade were nearly all members of her own tribe. They were rare and expensive. Her sisters were the only wielders she personally knew.
She tried to read her enemy’s draen, but a bird mask representing the raven hid much. Leraine did get a glimpse of the back of Raven’s head. So not Wolf, Ferret, Fox, Orca, or Puma; not likely to be Elk either.
Raven pulled back, Leraine already bringing her own weapon up before she realized that her enemy was retreating out of range. She’s stalling! Leraine didn’t know why—it was the wrong move given their respective weaponry—but Irelith had told her not to waste time when your opponent made a mistake.
“Why are you helping that thing?” Leraine pressed forward with an overhead strike. Raven had to support her blade to deflect. “Defile the most sacred place of our people!” Her next swing Raven sidestepped and Leraine had to duck the counterattack.
Her opponent didn’t let up and Leraine struggled to keep the segmented sword away. What training she’d had with staff and club had been years ago. The weapon had runes carved into it that let her connect to it much like with her own sword, but the same was true for Raven.
Her enemy’s segmented blade struck like a viper, coiling around her staff when she blocked and nearly taking out an eye as the tip nicked the corner of her forehead. She had no choice but to give ground. And with every moment wasted thus, the murderer got a greater lead. “You should wear a Crow mask. Own your treachery.”
Her hand on the hilt tightened and Raven lunged. Leraine couldn’t help a hint of a smile as she deflected the blow and went in for a counterstroke. But Raven had kept a better awareness, her back-swing slicing through several of Captain Slyvair’s fingers even as she blocked Leraine’s blow with her free arm.
Raven fell back with a gasp of pain. But Leraine did not press her advantage right away. Raven caught on and gave the hanging sun-man an exaggerated look. Then she ran off, as if she was daring for Leraine to pursue.
I . . . I can’t.
The staff clattered to the ground so she could seize Captain Slyvair’s wrist with both hands. “Don’t,” he said. “I’m fine. Fall probably won’t—”
“Shut up.” The words escaped past gritted teeth. Every muscle in her body strained at the heavy weight, the awkward angle. “Not. Letting. You. Die!” Finally she pulled him up enough that he could grasp one of the railing’s supports with his metal hand and then it got easy.
“Go, go,” Captain Slyvair said even as he pulled himself back onto the walkway. “I’m fine. Go!”
“Right.” Leraine picked up her staff and started running, but every muscle protested and her lungs burned. She pushed through, eyes darting this way and that, looking for Raven, looking for the murderer.
Instead, she came across a pair of guardians coming the other way over the walkway. Leraine ran over to them. “Quick, did you see Bitten Fin? Or a woman in a raven mask?”
But instead of answering they backed away and leveled their staffs at her. “Stop it right there!”
“Drop the weapon,” the other one said.
“What are you doing? I have permission,” she said, before remembering that that permission had been granted by the fake Bitten Fin. No, Sharp Prong had agreed, more or less. “I was chasing the murderer. It looked like Bitten Fin. Did you see him?”
The guardians grew unsure, but their weapons didn’t waver and they kept an eye on her. “Did you notice a limp?” one asked the other.
That guardian frowned, before giving a slow shake of her head that picked up speed. “I . . . don’t know. I don’t remember.”
Leraine ground her teeth. “You’re wasting time. Either help me or get out of my way.”
Before they had a chance to decide, someone came around the bend. She could feel the vibration of his footfalls even before Captain Slyvair came into view and he wasn’t slowing down. “Out of the way.”
She didn’t know who he meant, but a second later she got the idea. Throwing herself flat against the wall, the grizzled sun-man rushed her by and threw his arms wide to catch both of the guards.
They were good, they had to be if they’d made it into the order of holy guardians. One thrust low with her staff fully extended to trip Captain Slyvair, the other spun their staff around in a horizontal block and took a step forward. They were good, but Captain Slyvair was better.
He jumped over the thrust and kicked out with both legs, hitting the blocking staff. Captain Slyvair came to a stop in midair, all his forward power transferred to the guard who stumbled back and over his partner.
Leraine noted this in passing, already running after the sun-man when he’d jumped. She hopped to the side, over Captain Slyvair. Another hop past the entangled guardians and she had a clear run again. Judging by their words, they’d encountered Bitten Fin. She could still catch him.
Somewhere behind her, she could hear a bell being rung. More and more of the Inner Ring was roused to action as people shouted and ran. Another bell picked up the alarm and carried it further.
All good things, if anybody knew what was going on. But nobody did, and she didn’t have the time to spare to explain it to them as she passed bleary-eyed shamans, hoarse loremistresses and other loretellers, but no guardians. The false Bitten Fin had sent those away to patrol the outer areas of Chappenuioc, all part of its plan.
A rope bridge came into view and a figure was hurrying across it to the Outer Ring. Leraine’s grin had a lot of teeth as she found some hidden reserve and ran a little faster. She wouldn’t get to the false Bitten Fin before the murderer could enter the Outer Ring, but she’d be close enough to make it a chase rather than a search.
It knew it too, looking over its shoulder as the bridge swayed when she jumped across and over the hand rope instead of taking the extra moments to run around the post. The murderer gave up any pretense of being Bitten Fin, no hint of a limp as it ran with easy, bounding steps.
Leraine ran after it, only to stumble as someone called out behind her. “Fang!”
Raven stood at the end of the rope bridge, segmented blade poised above her head. She waited until she was sure Leraine saw her before she swung, cutting all the ropes in one motion.
Time seemed to slow down. Leraine was trapped, too far from either side to find safety. No, that wasn’t quite true. Her spirit pleading for Ghisa’s aid she turned back and sprinted after the murderer. It reached the Outer Ring with one final jump a moment before the bridge gave way under Leraine’s feet.
She threw herself forward, grasping, clawing for a solid hold on the wooden boards as the entire bridge swung down. The end of the bridge ripped through an awning and crashed into a platform, splinters the size of daggers flying through the air.
Now dragging along the ground, it slowed the rest of the bridge down so that it didn’t quite hit the framework of the Outer Ring with the same force. It still slammed into the wooden skeleton of Chappenuioc. And so did Leraine.
Her vision turned black for a moment, her head ringing like a bell. Her nose throbbed, dripping blood into her mouth.
Broken, again. Still alive. But that voice. No.
Leraine shook her head and immediately regretted it. Looking down brought another wave of nausea and her vision swam, but she couldn’t keep hanging there. Even thinking of shifting her grip hurt, and her arms shook at the notion of climbing.
Squeezing her eyes repeatedly, she finally saw that the ground wasn’t too far off. Even better, the bridge didn’t hang straight down but had a sort of curving slope. She could simply let go and slide down.
Her slide quickly turned into a tumble, Leraine could only tuck her head in and endure as she rolled to a stop in the mid
dle of the Inner Circle.
I’m out of the competition. Doesn’t matter. And was that? No. I need to get up. Can’t lie down. Come on. Get up. Get. Up.
“Raaah,” she croaked as she used an elbow to push herself up. Only to collapse once more, spent.
Chapter 26
New Plan
Eurik emerged from oblivion with a vile taste in his mouth, a lingering ache in his arm, and a heavy weight on his chest. It was the weight that drew his attention. It belonged to a stone smoothed by the patient hand of a river. Earth chiri still flowed from it into him, replenishing his strength.
With a deep breath, he drew all the energy into himself in one go. The stone crumbled into smaller and smaller pieces which slid off him as he drew himself into a seating position.
“As I told you,” Silver Fang said. “Rock can gain strength from the world to aid in his recovery.”
“We’ll see how much,” someone else said. It took him a moment to recognize Sharp Prong’s voice.
He opened his eyes and immediately had to shield his eyes against the light. He was somewhere in Chappenuioc; the lack of earth chiri all around him told him as much.
“It would have worked better if he’d been away from this place,” Misthell said. “Morning, Eurik, it’s really good you’re still alive. And not just for me. It’s good for you too.”
“Yes, good . . . morning to you too, Misthell,” Eurik said. He opened his eyes again, just a little. “What happened. Did we catch the fake Bitten Fin? And what happened to the real one?”
The silence that followed did not bode well. Their expressions confirmed as much.
“He’s dead,” Slyvair said. Sharp Prong gave him a look and he batted it away with his hand. A hand that was missing fingers. “I see no point in dancing around the matter. We got fooled.”
Silver Fang was injured too, fingers wrapped in bandages. Eurik noted Perun was here as well, holding Misthell.
