Hurricane

by Michael Wisehart

  Spats raised his hands for silence. Once the kids finished their chanting, Spats spoke, fervor building. “They took something from us.” The kids around me nodded in agreement. “So we are going to take something from them.” Shouts rose from the crowd. “Tonight, we will let them know that if they hit us, we will hit them back. And we won’t stop hitting, until they are no longer able to steal from us again!”

  The beaters went wild, chanting all over again. “Hit them back! Hit them back!” I started to roll my eyes, but then remembered that was exactly what I wanted to do to Red. Hit her back.

  The firelight from the torches made the chief’s red hair glow. Spats sneered and his face looked positively evil. I grabbed Reevie as he took a small step back. “Tonight, we are going to raid their warehouses. Then we will burn them to the ground!” Spats waited, with hands in the air, for the triumphant cheers and grand praise, but this time there was hesitation.

  “Burn it?” Reevie’s expression changed. “That’s not a smart thing to do,” he said under his breath. “We’re in the middle of a drought. You set a fire and it could take out a quarter of the tenements in Cheapside.”

  “What if the fire spreads?” someone called out, further back in the crowd.

  Spats looked shocked that his great plan was being questioned. “Then it will spread on them! And we will finally be rid of our enemies once and for all! Their territories will become ours! And to make sure they cannot run away like the cowards we know they are, we will cut their feet!” He brandished his short sword and sliced at the air like a drunken sailor. “Cut their feet! Cut their feet!”

  Slowly the crowd began to join in. “Cut their feet! Cut their feet.” Pretty soon the madness had once again spread through the entire ranks, until all the kids were shouting, and jumping, and striking out with their sticks and staves as if fighting an invisible army. “Cut their feet! Cut their feet!”

  Apart from ducking and weaving to keep from getting my own head bludgeoned, I just stood there, wondering how any rational thinking person could be so stupid as to blindly follow someone into battle, believing they were going to be victorious just because their leader said they would be, when their leader had no real plan to make it happen. From the way Reevie had spoken of Spats, I had believed Hurricane’s chief to be, well . . . smarter. But this utterly ridiculous plan to ‘cut their feet and burn them to the ground’ was enough to demonstrate how dangerous this kid really was—to his own tribe.

  The chanting continued.

  If it hadn’t been for Reevie, I would have slipped out and left these idiots to their lunacy. I glanced at the little healer beside me. He wasn’t near as caught up in the chaos as he had been earlier.

  “Am I the only one who thinks this plan is going to get us all killed?”

  Reevie met my eyes with an inquisitive gaze. “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, for starters, I’m talking about the fact that there is no plan.”

  “Yes there is. You heard Spats. We’re going to cut their feet and burn them out.”

  “Reevie, that’s not a plan, that’s the outcome, which, quite frankly, looks about as feasible as catching a fart in the wind.” I was starting to get the feeling that Reevie, out of his own desperate need to belong, was more than willing to blindly follow the rest of his tribe. I was surprised, considering he had always struck me as having a good head on his shoulders. Then again, I wasn’t a cripple living on my own for the last few years. I guess I couldn’t blame him for wanting to fit in.

  “Never mind,” I said. I could see that no matter what I said, it wasn’t going to make a difference at this point. Most of these kids had been trained not to think for themselves. Those that did probably followed along out of fear of being cast out from the tribe.

  For once, I was thankful that Reevie and I were going to be kept out of the battle. That was a strange feeling for me, considering I typically ran toward a fight and not away. I could only hope that Avalanche’s plan was just as absurd as Spats’s.

  The journey through the Maze and into Avalanche territory took longer than I would have thought. I guess marching a troop of poorly armed and poorly trained street kids across the city in the dead of night was bound to take some time, especially while attempting to remain unseen. For the most part the city was eerily quiet. We passed some stragglers on their way home from the evening shift, a few who had clearly stopped off at one of the local taverns by the diagonal way they stumbled to get off the road when they saw us coming.

  The evening air was sticky as usual, causing me to sweat straight through my new shirt. The occasional street lamp on either side of the cobble walkways helped light the way through the enormous maze of small roads, side streets, and back alleys. The sounds of boots, slippers, and bare feet filled the stone and plaster corridors as our small army marched its way toward its destination.

  “How much further?” I asked Reevie, who was struggling to keep up as he dragged his gimp leg along. He kept one arm around my shoulder and I supported him with an arm around the back.

  “We passed into Cutter’s territory some time back. We should be getting close to the eastern wall. Their hideout is a group of old warehouses just south of the metal works. It looks like we’ll be approaching from one of the streets on the southwest side.”

  “What’s on those streets?”

  “Housing, I think.”

  We turned the corner onto Barrel Street, and sure enough I could see the white stone of Aramoor’s wall in the distance and the warehouses in front of it. Reevie was correct. It was a direct line of sight to their tribe’s lair.

  Unlike the Temple, there wasn’t an outer wall for protection, which I found odd. The three and four story housing to either side of the narrow street gave me the impression of walking through a mountain pass. The wind whipping through the constricted passageway whistled, rattling shutters and swishing loose clothing still hanging on the lines.

  The hair on the back of my neck stiffened. Something was wrong. “Why are there no lights on this street?” I could see the warehouses ahead were well lit, but there wasn’t so much as a single torch between them and us. The entirety of Barrel Street lay in darkness.

  Reevie turned to look at the street behind us and the lamps on both sides cast their light across the fronts of the buildings. “Not sure. Maybe they just forgot to light them, or haven’t gotten around to it yet.” I couldn’t tell if he was asking a question or making a statement.

  “We need to pull back.”

  “What’s going on up there?” Spats called out behind us, flanked by the Guard.

  I stopped and turned around. “This doesn’t feel right.” Up ahead, the kids began to slow when they saw their chief had stopped.

  “We’re walking down a blind alley,” I said. “Do you see any guards, any lookouts? I don’t.”

  Spats took a moment to look around. “That’s because Cutter’s a moron. They’re probably all asleep. The last thing they expect is for us to attack their main compound in the middle of the night like this.” His face grew dark. “Now shut up and stick to your healing duties and leave the fighting to those of us who know what we’re doing!” With that, Spats raised his blade in the air and motioned the beaters to keep moving. “If you can’t keep up, then move out of the way,” Spats hissed as the Guard pushed Reevie and me out of the way.

  The look on Sapphire’s face as she passed let me know I wasn’t the only one worrying. She clearly didn’t like the situation any more than I did. I felt sorry for her. As one of the Guard, she had to go where Spats led.

  “Come on,” Reevie said, trying to push us forward. “We need to catch up.”

  “No, that’s about the last thing we need to do.”

  “What are you talking about? We need to move. They’re going to need our help.”

  “That’s for flaming certain.”

  On both sides of the street, the windows in the second and third floors hung open. In weather as warm as this that was pret
ty typical, but as I studied the shadows from each I could see movement. This was about to go horribly wrong. I needed to warn them. At that point, I didn’t give a flip what Spats thought, and I raised my hands to my mouth and shouted.

  “Look out! It’s a trap!”

  No sooner had the words escaped my lips when doors on both sides of the street burst open and armed beaters came pouring out. They wore white bands on their arms. The wave of fighters crashed against either side of our tribe like a human manifestation of their namesake—Avalanche.

  It was an ambush, and our tribe had been caught completely unaware. Whoever Cutter was, it was clear he had anticipated Spats’ retaliation, which I guess wasn’t saying much since a blind half-wit could have done the same.

  “Bloody stool!” Reevie shouted as I yanked him sideways off the street.

  I pulled him into the shadow of a nearby alcove and stuffed him behind a stack of crates. “Don’t move! I don’t care if Spats is being clubbed to death and eaten alive in front of you; you better not leave this spot.” Reevie nodded without saying a word.

  The quarter moon was casting little in the way of light on the battle ahead, but it was enough for my Upakan eyes to see. I pulled the knife from my jerkin and rushed down the street. The desperate cries of the wounded and dying fueled my determination. All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared me for what I saw.

  Chunks of rock and wood rained down from the windows above. I could hear bones snapping as the Hurricane beaters frantically tried protecting their heads. Kids were lying dead and bleeding in the streets, many knocked unconscious from the debris.

  At the tail end of the procession, the Guard fought to hold the Avalanche fighters back from Spats. Sapphire was a cat. She danced from side to side, her braid whipping back and forth, never in the same place for long as she fought the growing numbers. Spats’ high-pitched voice was shrilling out orders from the center of their formation. “Kill them! Stab them! Cut their feet!” If I had been close enough I would’ve been tempted to cut his feet.

  It was clear that Cutter had been hoping to draw Hurricane further in before engaging, so his fighters could close behind us and cut off our retreat. My warning had prevented that. Now those same fighters were taking the Guard head on. Those guarding Spats were ferocious, throwing back the Avalanche beaters as they fought to get their hands on Hurricane’s chief.

  “Get me out of here!” Spats screamed.

  It didn’t take a genius to see they were about to be overrun.

  Sapphire was swift and agile, cutting down one assailant after another with her short sword. Her father’s training was the only thing keeping her and the others alive.

  For my part, I had no concern for Spats’ safety. Anyone who blatantly leads their fighters into battle without the first care for their safety doesn’t deserve to live, but I didn’t want Sapphire to die because of Spats idiocy, and I knew she wasn’t going to leave her chief behind.

  The Guard was now completely surrounded. I scanned the street. It only took a moment to find what I was looking for. Slipping my knife back in my jerkin, I grabbed a loose piece of cobble and hurled it at the closest kid with a white armband.

  The rock hit the boy in the back of the head. By the time his unconscious body struck the ground, I had kicked the legs out from under the boy on his left and broken the arm of the one on his right. His sword fell from his limp fingers. I snatched the fallen weapon and stuck it in his thigh before spinning back around to strike the other boy in the throat with my fist, completely closing off his airway.

  All three were down without a single use of magic. I was feeling pretty good about that when one of my visions hit me and I ducked. I could feel the wind on my hair as the club flew over my head. I spun and swept the kid’s feet out from under him, cutting the muscles in his shoulder with my newly acquired sword. He wouldn’t be fighting after that.

  By the time I had cleared a path to the Guard, two Avalanche beaters had pinned Sapphire’s arms behind her back and pulled her away from the others. A third reached for her tunic. The look in his eyes left no question as to his intentions.

  “You touch me and I’ll kill you!” She spat on the beater and he growled at her in return. She hissed at them as she fought to break free. She bit at the boy’s hands as he grabbed for her shirt and he backhanded her across her face. Her head lashed to the right, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. I wanted to howl my frustration. With Spats and what was left of the Guard standing between us, I had no way to get to her.

  Another vision struck and I swept my sword upward. My parry deflected the attacker’s blade and I took the opening to turn and kick him in the knee. It gave with a pop and the boy screamed in pain and collapsed. I ignored him and searched for a way to reach Sapphire. The kid I had punched in the throat earlier was now on his hands and knees, and only a foot or two from the Hurricane Guard.

  An idea flickered to life. If I could reach him with enough speed, and he didn’t buckle under my weight, it might work. I had to make sure I hit the right spot. If I were to step anywhere other than directly on his hip, I’d probably break his back and send myself flying headfirst into the street.

  I took a deep breath and charged. By the time I kicked off my human footstool, I had enough speed to vault myself over the Guard. Miraculously, the boy’s knees didn’t give way, but his curses followed me as I flew over the fighting.

  Spats’ jaw dropped as I sailed overhead and cushioned my landing with a few Avalanchers on the other side. I cut my way through and rushed the three boys holding Sapphire.

  The two holding her arms never saw me coming. A swift blow to the head of one and a deep stab to the thigh of the other had them writhing on the cobbles in no time. As soon as they let go, Sapphire kicked her knee straight up between the remaining beater’s legs. The boy sang like a troubadour as he grabbed his lower parts and doubled over, just far enough for her to use that same knee to smash his face.

  She retrieved her sword and would have finished the boys off if I hadn’t grabbed her and pulled her back. “We need to get our people out of here.”

  I helped myself to a dagger, courtesy of one of Sapphire’s attackers. With that and my sword, I started cutting a hole through the Avalanche forces behind us. My body seemed to take over as my magic flowed through me. My ability as a repeater allowed me to move and fight with inhuman precision. I blocked with the sword and thrust and cut with the dagger. I never used them to decapitate or fatally wound, just to keep the beaters down and unable to counter. My visions kept me a step ahead.

  Sapphire was right beside me. Her ability to parry and block and move was impressive. Her father might have been a faerie spawn, but he had taught her well.

  Our Guard’s retreat was slow, but once Sapphire and I had cleared an open path for them, the pace quickened. Spats, just like the coward he was, continued squawking orders for his beaters to keep fighting, even as he was making his fast exit.

  “Stay with the Guard,” I told Sapphire as I turned back toward the fighting. “I’m going to see what I can do for the others.”

  The screams of the injured and dying up ahead turned my stomach. I couldn’t just leave the rest of Hurricane to die. I had to do something. Reevie would have told me I didn’t owe them anything and to save myself, but something inside said that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did. I laid the blame on Master Fentin. If he hadn’t told me that Upaka meant protector and not warrior, I probably wouldn’t have felt so determined. Maybe there really was something to the name.

  I retreated back into the cover of the buildings on the left side of the street and started working my way up the lines. It was utter pandemonium. I saw kids no bigger than Reevie get clubbed on the head and crumple. Others were stuck with ice picks and small knives in the front, back, and anywhere else the one holding the weapon was able to strike. Broken bottles savaged any faces within reach.

  In all the confusion, beaters from our own tribe we
re attacking each other, not seeming to care who they fought just so long as they pressed the attack, even though Spats was no longer there to goad them on. He was probably halfway back to the Temple by now.

  In front of me, a very large kid with an even larger cudgel spotted me creeping up the side. His white armband was easy to spot. He took one look at my blue one, grunted, and charged. He held his club high, expecting a good swing. That was his mistake. I didn’t need magic, but it came nonetheless. The vision hit me as it always did–a brief warning of danger. I could see it all: the direction of his approach, how many steps, the angle of the swing. It was all there for me to use.

  I opted for something a little more subtle. I waited a moment and then kicked an empty crate out in front of the boy’s foot just before it landed. His foot went straight through, sending him tumbling forward. The look on his face as he hit the sidewalk and slid to a stop in front of me was priceless. I kicked the bludgeon from his hand and then the side of his head. He didn’t move. The boy stunk like he hadn’t had a bath in weeks and his mop of sandy blonde hair was matted to his face.

  “That was sneaky,” a voice behind me called out. I spun to strike. Sapphire’s blue eyes reflected the moonlight, but her painted face still made me uneasy. “I knew there was more to you than you were letting on.”

  “What are you doing here? I told you to protect Spats.”

  “I couldn’t let you have all the fun. Besides,” she said with a smirk, “I figured I owed you one.” She playfully nudged my shoulder and then punched an Avalanche beater in the face before he had a chance to swing his club.

  “So you’re finally admitting the value of having someone there to watch your back?”

  She smiled. “Don’t press your luck.”