Wrath of the Fury Blade

by Geoff Habiger

  The two dark elves on the floor were just now regaining their feet. If they got into the fight they’d be able to surround Reva. She’d not stand a chance if the fight went to three on one.

  Reva managed to land a jab against the dark elf, her blade cutting through the sleeve of his left arm. Blood welled at the spot and the dark elf grimaced in pain. “First blood is mine,” Reva taunted. “Maybe you should give up now.”

  “Never! No elven whore is going to beat me!”

  “Fine.” Reva set her face with an expression of grim determination. “Death it is.” She stepped forward, faking a lunge toward his chest. As he moved to parry, she twisted the blade and cut upwards, letting his sword pass beneath hers. She then brought her sword down in a hard swing that cut into his right shoulder. Gouts of blood flew from the wound, spraying across the floor and one wall. The Syntagma roared in pain.

  Behind Reva, the two dark elves were now set and preparing to attack from the rear, catching her unaware.

  “Tup yildirim basamakli,” Ansee called, his arms outstretched and hands cupped together, letting the magical energy he’d been building fly toward the two dark elves. A ball of blue-white lightning flew out and exploded between the two soldiers. Tendrils of lightning shot out and wrapped around the dark elves, the energy sparking in a brilliant arc between the iron maces and chainmail. One of the dark elves collapsed in a heap, his body twitching. The other fell to one knee but managed to fight through the pain and shock. His hair smoked slightly and he looked up with pale blue eyes, glaring at Ansee.

  “I guess that got your attention,” Ansee said. At that moment his protection spell activated, causing the quarrel that was fired at him to slide harmlessly across his chest. Another curse, more desperation than anger it sounded like, came from the dark elf with the crossbow. Ansee breathed a sigh of relief that he’d remembered to cast his protection spell this morning. He’d made a mistake and forgotten about the bow-elf and it could have cost him his life.

  The Syntagma took in the action that was going on behind Reva. Reva did her best to ignore it, hoping that Ansee had everything under control. With Cas she’d have not given it a second thought, but she’d never been in a fight with Ansee and she hoped that he was up to the challenge. She’d jumped at the sound of the lightning exploding behind her but had managed to keep her focus on the dark elf in front of her. He was grimacing in pain each time he brought up his sword to parry. He was a determined bastard, but Reva could see that he was slowing.

  “Szükségünk van a sötétség. Ez a kurva nyert ebben a fordulóban,” the Syntagma called. “Indulunk!” He brought his sword tip down, but Reva hesitated to swing at him. She didn’t know if he’d just called down a curse, if he was casting a spell, or if he was calling for mercy. Damn! I hate not knowing what’s being said.

  It turned out to be a command. Ansee saw one of the dark elves pull out a vial and throw it to the ground. Before Ansee could react, the vial hit the stone and broke open. Inky darkness flowed from it and quickly filled the room. Neither Ansee nor Reva could see as the room was plunged into claustrophobic blackness.

  Reva heard movement in front of her and she swung her sword in a desperate attempt to hit the dark elf, failing to connect. She was hit hard in the stomach and knocked down, the wind escaping from her lungs in a rush, her head smacking hard against the stone floor.

  Hot, fetid breath hit her face. “We’ll meet again, elf bitch. Maybe.”

  She tried to grapple with the dark elf but the blow to her head had stunned her and she was slow to react. She felt him get off her chest followed by a sharp jab of pain that shot through from her belly to her back as the Syntagma’s blade stabbed through her. She felt the dark elf give it a cruel twist as he extracted the weapon and she cried out, helpless and panicking in the darkness.

  More noise, the sounds of footsteps and of something heavy being moved. Reva dropped her sword and grabbed at her belly, feeling warm, slick blood seeming to flow ceaselessly from the wound. Gods, this is not how I want to die, she thought.

  From her right she heard Ansee call out, “Bu karanliği dağitmak.” Suddenly the darkness was gone, the flickering lights in the sconces again filling the room with their wavering light.

  Ansee looked around. The dark elves were gone—how typical. He then saw Reva on the floor, a spot of blood under her head and blood flowing from a wound in her belly. “Reva!” He hurried over to her, pulling out a handkerchief and pressing it into her belly wound. Reva gasped, her eyes widening in pain. Ansee saw more blood beginning to pool under her. “No, no! Stay with me, Reva!”

  Reva coughed, “Damn bastard cheated.”

  “Well, what do you expect from dark elves?”

  “How bad?” Reva asked. She thought that she already knew but she didn’t trust her own judgment right now.

  More blood was coming from the wound. The handkerchief was already sodden and Ansee could see more blood pooling under her. “Oh, it’s fine.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “We need to get you to a healer.”

  Reva tried to move, crying out as pain consumed her belly. “I don’t think getting up is an option right now.”

  Ansee was trying to hold back his panic. He couldn’t leave her here to get help. How would he explain how they had come to be in a secret room in Pfeta fey Orung? Besides, she would probably bleed out if he left her alone.

  “Can’t—” she coughed, more blood seeping from the wound, “—you heal me?”

  “Umm… I never did learn how to do that.” He shrugged his shoulders apologetically. “Sorry.”

  “Such a slacker,” she coughed again.

  Ansee made a decision, hoping that he wasn’t going to regret it. He grabbed Reva’s sword, the two bolts fired from the crossbow, and picked up his dagger that the dark elf had thrown down. Other than the blood, there’d be no evidence that they’d been there.

  He knelt over Reva and concentrated for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. He then touched her, saying, “Güvenlik bizi götür.”

  They disappeared in a flash of yellow light, the flames in the sconces winking out as soon as they left.

  Twenty-nine

  An audible POP filled the room as Ansee and Reva appeared. It was followed immediately by a louder CRASH as the table that had been there was violently shoved aside by the spell. Some physical or magical law in the world would not allow two objects to occupy the same physical space—despite centuries of experimentation by wizards. The less massive object was always displaced by the teleportation spell. (In the great wizarding schools of Ados, like Auros Academy, this was commonly called Midazallam’s Theorem, after the great wizard who had first postulated the idea.) Sometimes this meant that the wizard was displaced if they miscalculated and ended up in a wall or tree or some other massive structure. That often led to serious injury for the spellcaster. More often it was an object already present at the destination, like a table or chair, which was pushed aside.

  In this case, Ansee and Reva had appeared in the space occupied by a table filled with canisters, jars, and bowls, which had all crashed to the floor when the table was shoved aside. The pungent odor of herbs filled the air.

  Ansee stood up. The room was dark, with only a little light coming in through the window. He moved to the door, intending to open it and call for help, when it was suddenly jerked open, light flooding into the room.

  “Stop right there or I’ll shoot!”

  Ansee blinked and saw a female elf standing in the doorway. She wore a light cotton skirt, red with roses embroidered in white at the hem, and a red and white checked blouse, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Her light brown hair was coiled in a loose bun and held in place with a pair of long, wooden hair pins. She glared menacingly at Ansee with blue-green eyes and in her hands was a battered and worn crossbow that noticeably shook.

 
“Put that down, Bea, before you hurt somebody!”

  The crossbow wavered, then pointed at the floor. “Antsy?”

  Ansee grimaced at the use of his nickname and tried to ignore it. “Yes, it’s me. What in the hells have you done to my room?” he asked peevishly. “You’ve turned it into a bloody apothecary shop!”

  “Your room?” Bea retorted angrily. “Mom and Dad let me have the house when they moved, so it’s my room now! I can do what I bloody well like with it!”

  “Well, you could have told me!”

  “If you’d come by and visit sometimes I wouldn’t have to! And what’s with just teleporting in here like you still live here anyway?”

  “Shall I just lie here bleeding?” croaked Reva from the floor. “Or do you want me to leave so you two can fight in private?”

  “Shit, Reva!” Ansee turned back to her, stepping out of the doorway. “Bea, we need your help.”

  Beatryce Carya saw the body lying on her floor, blood flowing from a wound in her belly. “By Temoca’s hand, Antsy, why didn’t you say something?”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t greeted me with a crossbow, I would have.”

  Bea ignored the comment and shoved him aside, forcing the crossbow into his hands with a glare. She then knelt next to Reva. “What happened?”

  “We were attacked and Reva was hit in the gut with by a sword. I didn’t know where else to take her, and I knew I could get her here quickly—”

  “Shut up! Let me do my job!”

  Bea pulled out a short knife from a sheath on her belt. It was less than a hand long and very sharp on one side, dull on the other. She slipped it under Reva’s armor and pulled it up the side, cutting the leather laces away with ease. She slid the armor off and cut away Reva’s shirt, exposing the wound. It was large, about one and a half hands wide, and had pierced her about a hand below the diaphragm. Blood was slowly flowing from the wound.

  “That was my good armor,” Reva protested.

  Ansee blushed and turned away. “How is she?”

  Bea explored the wound gingerly with her fingers. Reva gasped at the pain. “Bad.”

  A sigh and a choked sob escaped from Ansee.

  “Oh, grow up, Antsy. It’s bad, but I think I can handle it. It’s deep, but the wound is clean. A lot of bleeding,” she inhaled and smelled the stench of excrement. “And her bowels have been pierced. I’ve seen worse, though.” Another hiss of pain escaped from Reva as Bea continued to palpate around the wound.

  “Hand me that stone,” Bea commanded, pointing at a shelf against the wall. Ansee saw a piece of deep blue azurite that had been carved into a six-pointed star. He grabbed the stone and handed it to his sister.

  Bea held the stone in her left hand and placed her right hand on the wound. She began to chant, her hand glowing with a pale golden light as the spell was cast. The light rose and swirled about like a mist, curling about Reva’s body. It entered the wound and drifted up to swirl around the scrape on the back of her head.

  Bea continued chanting, keeping her fingers spread over the wound. The golden mist flowed about, entering Reva’s belly. After about a minute the wound slowly healed, the skin on her belly knitting itself together.

  Bea stopped chanting and looked at Reva with a smile. “How do you feel?”

  “Great,” Reva replied. She propped herself up on one elbow and ran a hand across her belly. There was no scar or any sign that she’d been at death’s door moments ago. “You’re better than any of the healers at the Constabulary.”

  “They’re OK, but have no real understanding of the art.” Bea stood up and offered a hand to Reva. “You need to understand anatomy to be really effective. They’re more concerned with just stopping the bleeding. All slap and dash, no skill. I’m Bea, by the way. Are you Antsy’s new partner?”

  “Yes, didn’t he tell you?” As Reva stood up Ansee stepped forward and threw his arms around her, the crossbow still clutched in his left hand.

  “Umm, that hurts,” Reva said. The crossbow was poking her sharply in the back.

  Ansee released her and then blushed again as he realized that Reva was still naked from the waist up. He turned away, his face beet red.

  Reva cocked a thumb at him. “So, you two are related?” she asked Bea.

  “Unfortunately,” she groused, her anger toward Ansee returning now that Reva was healed.

  Reva ignored the tone of Bea’s response. “Is he always this way around women? He’s constantly blushing at things.”

  Bea laughed at that. “Antsy? Hells yes. Ever since he was a little boy.”

  “Hey,” Ansee protested, both at the continued use of his nickname and the embarrassing details of his childhood that were being supplied to his partner. It was a feeble protest, though.

  Reva peeled off the rest of her armor and shirt.

  “I have a shirt you can borrow,” Bea said. She walked out of the room.

  “Thank you,” Reva said to Ansee after she’d left. “You saved my life.”

  Ansee shrugged, his back still to Reva. “I had to do something. I couldn’t let that dark elf win and I think FC Aescel would string me up in the yard if you were killed.”

  Reva picked up her sword, wiped the blade on her already-ruined shirt, then sheathed it. Bea returned, carrying a cream-colored shirt. She walked back into the room, purposely letting her shoulder hit Ansee in the arm as she passed him. She handed the shirt to Reva.

  “Thanks.” Reva slipped the shirt on. Ansee left the room, with Bea glaring at him. Reva noticed, but decided not to say anything. She’d fought often enough with Gale to recognize the sibling rivalry, but there was something more going on between Ansee and his sister. “Sorry about the mess.” She turned to pick up some of the fallen items from the table.

  Bea touched her shoulder. “Don’t, please. I’ll deal with it later.”

  Reva couldn’t tell if she meant the mess or Ansee but she shrugged, picking up her armor and ruined shirt, and walked out of the room. They were on the ground floor of a two-story home. Like her own home, the ground floor was set up as Bea’s business; instead of display shelves there was a counter, an open space with some chairs, and a small table with faded and torn scrolls on it. Besides the room she’d just left, which was apparently set up as a dispensary, there was a room that was probably set up as a treatment room. Stairs led up to the first floor, presumably Bea’s living space.

  Ansee had set the crossbow on the table and was standing by the door, nervously rocking from foot to foot. It was clear that he wanted to leave.

  “Antsy. Yep, I can see it,“ Reva said. Ansee sighed heavily.

  Reva turned to Bea. “Thank you again. The Constabulary will pay you for your services.”

  Bea swallowed and glared at Ansee, who turned to avoid her gaze. “No. No need. I’m happy to help out a Constable in need.”

  It was a pat phrase, one Reva had heard many times before from other healers—part of the unspoken agreement between the Constabulary and most of the businesses in Tenyl. But Reva still felt that there was more going on here between Ansee and Bea. He’d previously mentioned one sister who’d killed herself. But he hadn’t mentioned anybody else, not that Reva had bothered to ask. Did I take so long to ask about Cas’s family?

  She shook her head. She didn’t have time for sibling squabbles. “Well, thank you for the shirt. I’ll return it as soon as I can.” She walked toward Ansee, who opened the door and quickly stepped outside. Reva turned and waved good-bye and then followed him.

  Bea let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. With a sigh, she turned to start cleaning up her apothecary.

  Thirty

  Leaving Bea’s shop, Reva saw that it was still night. After everything that had happened it felt like it should have been morning at least. The night had become muggy and the air was now thick and sticky, causing
Bea’s blouse to cling to Reva’s skin. It felt like it might rain soon. I hope it breaks this heat, she thought.

  Ansee had trotted ahead, moving to the right down the narrow road. It took Reva a minute to figure out that they were in Forest Grove, just east of Nymph Creek. It was late enough that the houses they passed were all dark, the residents safely asleep in their cozy beds, but it wasn’t so late that the halpbloeden with their dung carts and night soil buckets were yet at work. Ansee paused at the next intersection.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he blurted out as Reva approached.

  Reva paused, wondering how she should respond. She was curious why Ansee and Bea seemed to hate each other so much. It was a strange idea for her, as she and Gale got along fairly well. Sure, they’d fought, sometimes like orcs and dwarves, but they always managed to make up in the end. She and Gale had grown closer after their father had died, which was pretty amazing since Gale was stationed so far away and rarely got leave. They managed to make it work, writing letters and confiding in each other. To meet somebody who didn’t have such a close relationship was odd and made Reva want to poke and pry to find out why.

  But she could see that, whatever the matter was between Ansee and Bea, it was still raw and painful, at least to them. Prying would satisfy Reva’s curiosity, but it might be too distracting to Ansee right now. She didn’t need that.

  “Look,” Reva said in her best command voice. “I don’t give a kobold’s ass what’s going on between you and your sister. If it’s going to bother you or be a distraction, you better tell me now so that I can tell Aescel to give me a new partner.”

  Ansee’s eyes widened in shock. Apparently he’d been expecting a softer response, or maybe some prodding for more information. Good. He needs to learn how to focus and not get distracted.