by Sever Bronny
Horsing Around
“And did you see Katrina’s face when Leera tossed her into that pile of practice dummies?” Isaac crooned, pretending to throw a body and telekinetically exploding a pile of snow as if the body had landed in it. “Kablooey! Dummies everywhere and one sad, bent tiara. I swear to the gods she looked like she might throw a little hissy fit right there when The Grizzly called it a win for Lee.”
They were trundling through knee-high snow in Blackhaven. The blizzard had luckily died away, devolving into a calm snowfall, deadening sound. Oil lamps and torches were lit on the street, as the clouds combined with the low winter sun had made it dark early.
Caireen, who was walking beside Isaac in the back, snorted. “The vile witch took it out on Elizabeth for daring to suggest a princess should take a loss with grace. And The Butcher just stood there, watching the whole thing.”
“That’s what you get for palling around with evil,” Leera threw in. “I enjoyed you putting Carp to sleep, Laud. That was what, three successive mind castings?”
“Two. His mind is as brittle as an old man’s bones,” Laudine replied. She lifted her arm and let it fall. “ ‘Like a tree in a gale, doth he fell.’ ” She slapped her hands together. “Smack! Face-first too.”
“He’s lucky he hit the mat,” Isaac said. “Otherwise we’d have seen his pea brain all over the floor. Total slip hazard.”
The girls winced, protesting with reactions like, “Eww,” and, “Revolting, Isaac.” Caireen smacked his shoulder, muttering, “Grow up, will you.”
Isaac threw a lanky arm around Caireen’s neck and drew her in. “I grow up and you’ll get bored.”
Caireen, who Augum had never seen get intimate with anyone, even remotely, froze up like a deer, which was amusing considering she was trying to walk alongside Isaac. But then, cheeks blushing fiercely, she threw an arm around his torso and walked in step with him. Augum could have poked fun but pretended like he didn’t see anything.
Laudine pinched her dimpled cheeks. “ ‘Tree in a gale.’ Hmm, the line would have had more impact were I an air warlock.”
“You blow enough air,” Leera sniped, to which everyone cackled while Laudine playfully shoved her for being such a jerk, jeering, “Getoutahere.”
“What I enjoyed most was seeing Bridget take on Elizabeth,” Caireen said when they stopped horsing around with Leera. “Party girl couldn’t compete. That initial look, too, when she realized she was in over her head—” Caireen puckered her lips and fluttered her eyelashes, her voice rising an octave. “Oh my! I think I broke a nail!”
“And then Bridge slapped her upside the head with a quality Fear casting,” Leera said. “Got hit so hard her face sparkles blew off in a cloud.”
“And then she started wailing like a banshee,” Isaac noted with a chuckle. “What did you make her focus on, Bridge? A bad hair day?”
“Not far off. I made her believe she had bad skin.”
This caused numerous guffaws.
“I wish I was in your class,” Haylee mumbled, hobbling along. “You guys have all the fun.”
“Yeah, well, consider yourself lucky, Haylee,” Jengo said. “Healers are barely even allowed to think about using spells offensively. I mean, we can use offensive mind attacks in emergencies, as long as the effects aren’t permanent, but if we cast a First Offensive and hurt someone?” He chopped the air with a hand. “Boom, instant expulsion. We sit out on all the fun, practicing defensive spells, playing support warlock, or studying the healing arts. The most we get to partake in is being test dummies for your mind spells. They make us learn all the spells for the year-end test, but that’s it.”
“Shut up, you love your element, you know you do,” Haylee said.
“This is true.” He thumbed at himself. “I get to save your lives.”
“And you deserve full glory for that,” Augum said.
Bridget shook her head, lamenting, “I feel bad for Cry. Poor thing was too exhausted to put up much of a fight against Mary.”
“Can’t believe that airhead had it in her to flat out humiliate Cry like that,” Leera said, only to add after getting an annoyed look from Bridget, “I mean, she’s obviously not completely airy up there. She’s just a bit, you know, simple. Or something. What? Don’t look at me like that. She’s nice, all right? I like her in a, uh, distant, uh, inbred cousin … kind of … way.”
“Lee—”
“Don’t get cranky, Bridge. And stop stewing in the loss I handed you.”
“I’m not—” Bridget’s face contorted in incomprehension. “—stewing. You exploited the moment with a cheap distraction.”
“I don’t know,” Isaac said, “I thought it was sneaky and daring to telekinetically flick Carp’s ear mid fight just so he’d yelp.”
“And completely against the rules,” Bridget snapped. “You’re lucky The Grizzly missed it.”
But Leera ignored her and jumped on Augum’s back, pretending to strangle him. “Hey, but you—you are not allowed to duel anymore.”
“What’d I do?” He glanced around, but luckily there were no Path Disciples about, or much of anyone, for that matter, everyone having taken shelter from the weather.
“You won again,” Caireen said, unable to lose the beaming smile as she strode with Isaac. “You’re obviously not allowed to win against your own girlfriend. Or cause her to squeal in annoyance before the entire class.”
“It’s cause he trained with a scion in the war,” Leera said, squeezing his chest. “He’s just a big ol’ cheater is what he is—” She flinched as if bitten. “Ouch! Hey, who pinched my … ugh—” and she slid off his back and fell into the snow with a groan.
A succession of thwoots came from multiple directions. Jengo slapped his neck. “Ah—” followed quickly by Haylee and Laudine, all three of whom collapsed with small gasps.
“Assassins!” Augum cried, summoning his shield in time to block two darts. A third whistled by his ear. There was a series of rapid thunks as Bridget, Isaac and Caireen all dodged or successfully blocked more darts. And then the assassins, all dressed in tightly woven dark linens, spilled out of the alleys from both sides of the street—and there were twelve of them. They wielded curved daggers in each hand and wore a small shield on each forearm. Cloth obscured their faces, though their eyes were visible.
The remaining foursome instantly went into war mode.
“Watch the flanks!” Augum called, using the momentum of a charging female assassin to telekinetically propel her into the assassin beside her, sending both plowing into the snow, unhurt, but buying him time. He shoved the air toward the lead assassin, shouting, “Baka!” only to witness her twirl aside while slicing at the air with both daggers, cutting off his attack.
“Armor!” Bridget called.
“Armari elementus totalus!” the four friends chorused. A lightning crust swallowed Caireen’s and Augum’s bodies, while Bridget was cocooned in bark and Isaac in shimmering water. And then they did what they were trained to do when facing a group of rushing opponents that wanted to nullify the advantage warlocks possessed at distances—two successive Push spells, shouting, “Baka! Baka!” Four assassins crashed into the walls, having not realized the first Push was a fake and using up a moment to dodge it or arcanely cut the attack off. The assassin Augum violently shoved plowed through the weak brick wall of a house. Bricks tumbled, leaving a gaping hole and a single support pillar holding up the floor.
Bridget drew on an invisible bow, shouting, “Summano arma!” An ivy-laced bow appeared in her hands, already nocked with an arrow. She loosed the arrow and in rapid succession drew and loosed two more. Two hit separate assassins, thunking into their chests, while the third arrow barely missed an assassin’s leg. Bridget, who had been training hard with the bow since learning the spell, was that quick.
While those two assassins fell into the snow, writhing in pain, Caireen, Isaac and Augum each faked and then loosed their First Offensive, slapping their wrists toge
ther twice in succession. “Annihilo!” Augum’s thick lightning blast connected with the closest assassin’s arm, blowing it clean off. As a tremendous rumble of thunder echoed up and down the street, the man fell screaming, blood squirting into the snow. The air smelled of metal from the lightning. Isaac’s sharp jet of water drilled through another assassin’s thigh, resulting in another high-pitched scream; and Caireen’s lightning blast missed, blowing one more hole in the brick of the already damaged home. Another wave of thunder rolled through the street. The noise alone would bring every Canterran in the city down on them in no time.
The assassins Augum had initially made careen into each other, as well as the three assassins he had shoved, recovered and rushed forward like feral cats.
Bridget disappeared her bow as she hooked her fingers as if to gouge the closest assassin’s eyes out, calling, “Voidus occa!” The man yelped and turned around and ran, only to slam headfirst into the already weakened support pillar of the house, knocking himself unconscious and breaking the pillar. The assassin whom Augum had thrown through that wall was groggily coming around just as the floor and half the remaining facade collapsed on both of them in a great rumble. A plume of dust billowed out, leaving the entire building teetering on the brink of collapse.
“Summano arma!” Augum, Caireen and Isaac chorused, summoning their respective weapons; a lightning longsword for Augum, a triple lightning chain flail for Caireen, and a long and quivering water spear for Isaac. Augum and Caireen quickly followed up with summoned shields, while Isaac lashed out with the tip of his ten-foot spear, nearly lancing a rushing assassin who slapped the spear aside with both daggers. Isaac, making a battle calculation, let it disappear and summoned his shield instead.
By then the assassins had closed the gap, and the melee descended into a free-for-all, with Augum desperately protecting a groaning Leera at his feet as she fumbled for her antidote.
Augum and Bridget squared off against two assassins each, Caireen and Isaac one apiece. Blades whizzed through the air as the sounds of shield blocks and grunting counter-thrusts and counterspells filled the narrow street. Out of the corner of his eye, Augum witnessed Caireen back-twirl and smash one of Bridget’s assassins’ heads into a pulp with her flail.
His attention caught, Augum didn’t see that one of the assassins had stealthily slipped past his shield. A blade somehow pierced the elemental armor of his left forearm at just the right angle. He gasped at the intrusive stab of searing pain, and both his sword and shield vanished.
The poison was viciously strong, much stronger than before, and ripped through him like wildfire. As he fell to the ground, the pair of assassins closed in for the kill. In desperation—and seeing that their closeness gave him an advantage—he slammed his wrists together, snapping, “Annihilo bato!” After his wrists bounced, he pointed his palms at the assassins’ chests, and felt the huge cold pull of arcane stamina as the Second Offensive’s dual lightning prongs skewered his opponents like a viper’s forked tongue. Both men grunted as they were launched backward. Augum glimpsed the gray sky through the gaping holes in their chests before hitting the ground beside Leera, where he writhed in the grip of the beastly poison. His hands shook as he fumbled for his satchel while what felt like acid burned his veins.
Bridget rolled beside Augum and Leera and emerged on her knees to slam her wrists together. “Annihilo bato!” Two twirling spears composed of sharpened sticks and edged rocks drilled through the air with a pulsing whirring noise. Her remaining assassin jumped aside to avoid one prong only to gasp as the second shot right through her. The assassin fell to the ground on Augum’s other side, eyes sightless.
Augum, who was having trouble finding the antidote in the mess of his satchel, felt someone rooting around in his pocket. A moment later, Leera thrust the antidote into his hand.
Fool, it was in your pocket not your satchel. Augum unstopped it and swallowed the contents, realizing Leera must have consumed hers during the fight.
Meanwhile, the remaining two assassins, who were frantically slashing away at Isaac and Caireen in one-on-one combat, saw the numbers had turned. One of them barked a guttural command and they gracefully back-flipped, then fluidly grabbed something from their belts and threw it at the ground. A cloud of black smoke exploded with a bang, engulfing the assassins.
“Impetus peragro,” an assassin incanted, disappearing with a thwomp. The other tried the same spell. “Impetus—gah!” There was the sound of a boot scrape and a thud—the assassin had slipped on ice and fallen.
“Baka!” the remaining trio called, blowing apart the black cloud.
“Triple Slow,” Bridget directed. “Effectus xadius,” she, Caireen and Isaac chorused. The assassin, who had been struggling to get up from the snow, slowed to a molasses-like crawl.
“And Sleep,” Bridget said.
“Senna dormo coma torpos,” they chorused.
The final assassin, overcome by a triple 7th degree casting, fell to the snow and began snoring.
Bridget, Caireen and Isaac immediately tended to their fallen comrades. Leera, gasping, showed off an empty antidote vial and grinned. Augum did the same, minus the grin. Then his head fell back into the snow as he regained his breath. That had been way too close and way too sloppy. Gods, they were totally unprepared and desperately needed more training. As for Laudine, Jengo and Haylee, they had also each swallowed the antidote. At least that part of their training had won out.
The sound of moaning and gasping filled the alley. Five friends rolled around in the agony from poison, wheezing. Three assassins remained alive and were in terrible pain from their wounds, and one still snored as if taking a luxurious nap. Snow continued to fall, already burying the dead.
“Need some help here,” Haylee croaked, holding her shoulder. Blood oozed between her fingers. “The little witch got me while I was down. Believe that? On my birthday!”
“Give me a moment for the antidote to do its magic,” Jengo wheezed. “Based on how quickly we fell, I believe this strain of poison is stronger.”
“I’ll say.” Haylee scrunched her face. “Ugh, that stings. Ow ow ow ow. Come on, antidote, hurry up.”
Augum examined his forearm. The cut wasn’t too deep, but would need Jengo’s attention. The poison stung more than the cut, though mercifully that sting was receding.
Three town constables ran over, summoned by a shouting woman in an apron.
Bridget explained what had happened in a shaky voice.
“You must inform the Lady High Inquisitor,” Augum cut in. “She knows what we’re facing and is investigating the matter.” He hoped she would be fair and not call for their immediate arrest.
“You’re the three, aren’t you?” the lanky middle-aged man in a warlock constable’s robe asked. “By the holy gods, you need to get out of here before the Canterrans come. The whole quarter heard the noise, not to mention you brought down a building. They’ll imprison you for sure, and this kingdom needs you.” He turned to one of the other men. “Do as the young man asked. We’ll mind the captives. Go, now!” As the other constable ran off, the warlock cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted after him, “And if you see more Solian constables, tell them where we are!” He turned back to Bridget. “My lady, you must go. All of you. Please, I cannot have your arrests on my conscience. Some of these Canterrans are malicious outlaws. I promise to submit a full report to the Lady High Inquisitor on your behalf.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Isaac said to an injured assassin who was crawling away, leaving a trail of blood in the snow. He drew the outline of the man with a finger. “Paralizo carcusa cemente.” The assassin froze in place.
Augum and Leera helped each other up, while Isaac grabbed Jengo, Caireen grabbed Laudine, and Bridget took Haylee, who stared at the body of the assassin she had slain. The four pairs limped off.
“Thank you, Constable,” Augum wheezed. “And good luck.”
The man placed both hands over his heart. “May the Unnameabl
es light your paths in the darkness, great ones.” Then he set to the task of casting bounding enchantments and tying hands behind backs.
“On my birthday,” Haylee kept muttering, nursing her shoulder as she limped along. “Unbelievable.”
Leera snorted. “Welcome to being a woman, I guess.” She was more helping Augum than he her, as she had taken the antidote sooner.
“At least it’ll be a memorable one,” Haylee muttered, wheezing as if she’d run a marathon. Although the antidote was effective, the ordeal still tired a person out.
“We’re vulnerable,” Augum said. “An assassin got away and might return with reinforcements, knowing we’re weak.”
“They might also figure out to shoot more darts next time,” Bridget said. “Or use a yet stronger poison.” She kept glancing over her shoulder, a deeply troubled look on her face.
“We’ll need more antidotes,” Jengo said, “and a wider variety that can fight Canterran poison. I’ll look into it as soon as we get funds. Stuff won’t be cheap. And we still need funds for tomorrow’s due.”
“Well, with luck, that might be solved for us at Olaf’s,” Isaac said. But when pressed, he only grinned and winked, saying, “All I’m saying is keep your fingers crossed.”
They kept to the alleys, stopping for Jengo to heal Augum and Haylee and look the others over. Bridget had suffered a minor abrasion on her hand, but it hadn’t been poisonous, and Caireen had a sore jaw from an uppercut, but other than that, they were fine.
“You all right?” Augum quietly asked a distracted Bridget while the others were attended to.
“I … I just killed someone,” she mumbled. “Is this … is this our new normal?”
“I don’t know, Bridge, but I feel I should tell you that The Grizzly said Arcaners lead violent lives.” He sighed. “Look, if I had known it would be like this—”
“I do not regret becoming an Arcaner, Augum,” she interrupted. “And although I definitely do not want to lead a violent life, I firmly believe that bringing Arcaners back will earn us a peaceful future.”
