A Girl From Nowhere

by James Maxwell

  There was nothing Selena could do but hope.

  “You can do it, Taimin,” she whispered under her breath. “You can beat him.”

  Taimin was desperate. Without a bow he would never remove the threat to Selena. The sand of the fighting pit had been churned up, yet there had barely been an exchange of blows. After evading Galen’s successive attacks, Taimin had managed to draw his opponent close to the fence. He continued to back away, never taking his eyes off the older man with the close-cropped white hair.

  Taimin’s heel struck something hard with a jolt. He was at the fence and could go no farther. But he might now have a chance. On the other side of the barrier was a soldier with a bow. Yet Taimin was in an impossible position. Galen was a skilled warrior and watched him constantly, looking for an opportunity to strike. Taimin would never have time to climb the fence and throw himself over.

  “What is your plan, cripple?” Galen sneered. “Hide from me until something comes up?”

  As soon as he finished speaking, Galen slashed his sword at Taimin’s face. Taimin ducked and tried to weave but Galen changed his approach and his next blow was a straight thrust at Taimin’s stomach. Taimin dodged, but he was trying too hard to stay close to the fence and the promise of the bow on the other side. He felt a sharp sting as Galen’s steel blade bit into his side.

  He managed to create some space between them and gasped. He put a hand to his side and felt wetness, but didn’t know how deep the wound was. Of the two of them, Galen was now closer to the fence. Taimin couldn’t fight back unless he knew Selena was safe. The constant evasion was taking its toll, and the pain in his foot was already fiery, as if a hot poker was being pressed between his ruined toes. He had yet to even attempt to strike his opponent.

  “Fight, Taimin, fight!” a voice roared from the crowd.

  “You can do it!”

  Taimin’s desperation shifted to despair. His situation was impossible. He couldn’t risk drawing Galen’s blood; if he did Selena would die. Even if he had a bow, it was a difficult shot, and there was a chance that he might hit Selena, rather than the scar-faced soldier.

  He knew he was letting down everyone, including Vance, Lars, Rathis, and all the other prisoners. The rebellion was supposed to begin when the duel was at its peak. He was expected to fight back.

  Galen came forward with his sword held out in front of him. Taimin was forced to give up on his idea of somehow scaling the fence. There were gates, but he would never get through them before he was cut down from behind. Galen launched a flurry of blows, and Taimin had no choice but to raise his sword to block. Each time Galen swung at him, Taimin took a step back and the steel sword clashed against his own blade of hardwood. Fear was constantly with him. He was terrified that he would accidentally hurt Galen and Selena would be killed. He was thinking too hard about how to save her, and his lack of concentration made it easy for Galen to find holes in his defense.

  Galen dropped low and cut at Taimin’s leg. Remembering his training, Taimin leaped to the side but his crippled foot flared up, causing him to stumble.

  He gasped with pain and rolled on the ground. Bringing himself to one knee, he had no choice but to raise his sword horizontally as Galen hacked at him with a strong overhead blow. Galen continued to press his advantage and, pinned on the sandy floor, Taimin saw the triumph in his opponent’s eyes. Taimin blocked two more strikes. The last came within inches of his face. The muscles in his arms groaned; he couldn’t hold his sword up forever. Galen had the advantage of a higher position and it was easier swinging from above.

  Everything slowed down. Taimin was acutely aware of his surroundings. The two suns glared from high in the sky, silhouetting Galen’s body. Taimin was forced to squint as sweat trickled down his forehead. The crowd roared, calling on him to do something. He wasn’t just fighting for his life, or trying to destroy his enemy. He was fighting for the city’s soul.

  Elsa’s followers would be watching. It wasn’t the fight they had been expecting, but perhaps, when they saw Taimin die, they would realize that the time to take action had come. Perhaps Selena might escape in the chaos and confusion. There was nothing Taimin could do to save himself.

  Despite his burning arms, Taimin held his sword high. His face was grim and his jaw was set. Galen’s next strike would be a killing blow.

  He heard a piercing shriek.

  The sound was beastly, so out of place that it cut through the roar of the crowd. Taimin was looking into the light. The glare affected his vision, but he was sure he saw two broad wings that became larger and larger. Spread wide, the wings swept down at the air. The winged creature was directly behind Galen, approaching with formidable speed.

  Galen’s eyes went wide. He began to turn.

  The wyvern struck him with force.

  Taimin dived to the side at the same time that the creature and Galen tumbled together. The wyvern’s grasping claws hit Galen’s shoulders but scraped against his leather armor and lost purchase. Despite his shock, Galen was wise enough to roll again and again, taking himself away from his assailant.

  The wyvern’s wings slapped against the sand as it hovered. The creature’s eyes narrowed as it faced the commander and gave another piercing shriek.

  Taimin straightened. He was alive, and he still had his sword. He remembered that one of the city guard’s wyverns had escaped. But why was it helping him?

  The wyvern’s gaze moved. The creature never stopped facing the armored soldier it had just knocked down, but brown eyes met Taimin’s. The wyvern had a long, narrow face, pricked ears, and a rust-colored body. But Taimin knew those eyes.

  “Griff?” Taimin asked in disbelief.

  The wherry had transformed.

  39

  Despite his gratitude and joy at seeing Griff alive and well, Taimin knew he had to make Griff leave. He felt like he was failing his old friend, who had just saved his life once again. But if Galen was killed, Selena would die too.

  Stunned to be facing an angry wyvern, Galen returned to his feet and held his steel sword in front of him. Griff snarled. The wyvern’s wings stirred up the sand.

  “No!” Taimin cried. Griff took his eyes off Galen to look at Taimin in confusion. “No,” Taimin repeated. He made a pushing motion with his hands. “Go!”

  Perplexed, Griff climbed into the air. A moment later a gate in the perimeter fence crashed open. Three of Galen’s men rushed in. They were already fitting arrows to bowstrings.

  “Go!” Taimin bellowed.

  As Griff spread his wings and gave another piercing shriek, he gave Taimin a last look before swiftly gaining height. As arrows followed him, one struck his underside but bounced off his tough hide. The wyvern flew higher into the sky and swept his wings furiously until he was soaring above the city.

  The crowd stirred. People exchanged stunned glances. A wyvern was loose in the city, and the creature was prepared to attack people. They no longer shouted; instead they began to look uncertain.

  Meanwhile, Taimin realized that he and Galen were no longer alone in the fighting pit. His heart pounded as he focused on the three bowmen. He then glanced up at Selena. Galen wasn’t close. This was his chance.

  With the three archers’ attention on Griff, Taimin started to run. Still holding his sword, he brought on every bit of speed he could and prayed his leg wouldn’t give out. The distance narrowed to the nearest of the bowmen, a stocky soldier with thick black eyebrows. The soldier turned, too late. His eyes widened.

  Taimin crashed into the soldier and brought him to the ground. As they rolled together, both trying to get the upper hand, Taimin caught brief flashes of his surroundings. He saw Galen racing toward him. The other two archers were preparing new arrows, but they couldn’t shoot with Taimin so close to one of their own.

  Taimin dropped his sword and wrapped his hand around the thickest section of his opponent’s bow. He then brought his knee into the stocky man’s stomach. Breath came out of the man in a whoosh. The soldie
r crumpled, and as he went down, Taimin yanked an arrow from the man’s quiver.

  Taimin’s back itched as he straightened and fitted an arrow at the same time. He drew in a fluid motion and looked up at the tiered benches above the fighting pit. His focus narrowed on the tall soldier with the scar on his face, seated behind Selena. He knew he might kill her, but he couldn’t think about what could go wrong.

  He held his breath. His arms tensed for a heartbeat before he released.

  The arrow flew faster than the eye could follow. An instant later the scar-faced soldier fell back and his hands went up to grip the shaft that sprouted from his neck. The arrow was swift and Selena’s assassin tumbled backward without a cry. Only those nearby realized what had happened. Most people in the crowd would think that Taimin had fumbled and loosed a wild arrow.

  As soon as he had shot the arrow, Taimin grabbed the stocky soldier and lifted him up. It gave him the protection he needed as two arrows plunged into the man’s body. Taimin then reached for the quiver on the dead man’s shoulder and took out a second arrow. While one of the soldiers frantically tried to prepare another shot, Taimin’s arrow took him down.

  A dive and roll took Taimin out of harm’s way while another arrow sank into the sand. He had intentionally brought himself closer to his discarded sword. With no more arrows, he swiftly made the exchange. He charged the last archer and thrust his sword into the soldier’s chest. The man fell with a cry.

  Taimin whirled. He saw Galen racing toward him with his steel sword ready to strike. Taimin took a few steps to the side, moving away from the hazard of fallen bodies, and raised his own weapon.

  The two swords crashed together. The crowd roared. They had just seen Taimin defeat three men in quick succession. Hundreds of people were on their feet.

  Taimin and Galen circled each other, but there was a different mood now. The two men locked eyes, seeking weakness.

  This time, it was Taimin who attacked. He cut at Galen’s head, before shifting to thrust at the commander’s body. Galen stepped to the side, but not before the sharp edge of the sword sliced through his leather armor and opened up a gash in his abdomen.

  Both Taimin and Galen were out of breath. Sweat coated Taimin’s forehead. But he wasn’t about to falter. This was his chance. Selena was safe. He could end this.

  Taimin moved forward, and now it was Galen backing away. A shift to the left made Galen’s guard come up, but then Taimin lunged to the right and came in from a place where Galen wasn’t expecting him to be.

  Taimin found his opening. He thrust directly into his enemy’s torso. Galen brushed his sword away but was awkward on his feet and exposed to a follow-up attack.

  A series of cries and bellows came from the crowd. The sounds were out of place and mostly lost in the roar of the onlookers, but Galen’s eyes widened as he looked past Taimin’s shoulder.

  Taimin risked a swift glance. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten all about the plan he had made with Elsa.

  In the prisoners’ quarters, no one spoke. Everyone sat on a bed. All eyes were raised to look up at the ceiling.

  Vance glanced at Lars, who shuffled restlessly on the pallet opposite. He and Lars exchanged grim expressions when the sound from above became deafening.

  “By the rains,” Lars said, breaking the silence. “I wish I could see what was happening out there.” The crowd roared again. “He could be dead already for all we know.”

  Vance looked toward the gate that led to the fighting pit, but there was no one standing on the other side. Lewin must be watching the duel. He returned his attention to Lars. “You’ve seen him fight?”

  Lars nodded. “Aye. I have. Still—”

  “Have faith,” Rathis called from across the room.

  Vance almost jumped when the commotion outside became even greater. He heard a piercing shriek. The cry was beastly in nature.

  “Burn me, what was that?” Lars’s mouth dropped open.

  Vance turned to gaze across the room. The prisoners who met his eyes shook their heads. “If you don’t know, then neither do I,” he said.

  Lars’s voice was incredulous. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a wyvern.”

  “Is it time? Should we go?” Vance asked. He could hear the worry in his own voice.

  “How would I know?” Lars glared back at him. “You’re in charge here.”

  “Rathis?” Vance called across the room. He extended his address to all of the prisoners watching him. “All of you? Is it time?”

  No one replied. But then the crowd roared and the powerful sound made Vance’s heart race. He took a deep breath as urgency pulsed through his veins. He realized that if he was in charge, he had to lead.

  Vance climbed to his feet. All of the prisoners were now watching him, waiting for him to speak. Another breath steadied his nerves. He swept his gaze over everyone in the long room. “It’s time!” he called.

  They all stood as one. Hands reached under bed pallets to take out the motley assortment of weapons smuggled in the previous night. Vance retrieved a sword. Lars hefted an axe with a half-moon blade.

  Vance hurried to the gate that led to the fighting pit. As the crowd bellowed in the arena, the prisoners fell in behind him, one after the other.

  Someone approached the gate, and behind it Vance recognized the guard Lewin’s lanky figure. Lewin headed right up to the gate. Vance held his breath, but then Lewin rattled the bolt holding the gate fastened and hauled it open.

  Lewin stood to the side.

  Vance lifted his sword, and then he started to run. Blood roared in his ears. He was terrified, but he had never felt so alive. With a cry he led his fellow prisoners through the gate and headed directly for the fighting pit.

  Galen’s eyes were wide open as he stared past Taimin’s shoulder.

  Taimin realized the time had come.

  With a series of bellows, close to thirty arena fighters raced into the pit. Vance led from the front, waving his sword over his head like a madman. They knew the plan and spread out as soon as they entered. Taimin watched fighter after fighter rush over to join him. In moments he had a collection of allies arrayed around him, a large group that stood and faced the solitary commander of the city guard.

  Taimin watched Galen carefully. He and the commander still held their swords in front of them, but there was a momentary lull. The crowd had fallen silent.

  Galen looked uncertain. The white-haired soldier found himself up against an overwhelming number of fighters. The prisoners stood ready with their clubs, swords, axes, and daggers. The bax in the group glared at the commander of the city guard.

  Galen took a step back.

  Taimin could have overwhelmed his enemy. He wanted to, desperately. But he waited. The city’s fate was more important than vengeance.

  Now it was Taimin’s turn to smile.

  The crowd stirred. Murmurs became louder, and more than a few people began to leave their seats and stream toward the exits. Taimin watched them go; they were the wealthy citizens who fled; those in bright-colored clothes. No one would stop them.

  As expected, Galen turned and called for help.

  “Men!” Galen beckoned to the uniformed soldiers, calling them down to the fighting pit. The city guard would never let any prisoners escape. Galen’s men would come to their commander’s aid.

  Dozens of uniformed figures were already running. Row after row emptied out. The gate in the barrier fence crashed open. Soon the soldiers were rushing to fill the sandy floor.

  Still Taimin waited, even though it felt wrong to allow Galen’s men to gather. There were more soldiers than there were prisoners, and despite the fact that many of the prisoners were skilled fighters, the soldiers were trained and better armed.

  As the soldiers formed ranks, raised voices filled the air with panic. More citizens on the upper tiers left their seats and pushed against each other as they tried to reach the nearest way out.

  But not everyone tried to
flee. The Protector, Selena, and the two men who flanked her still remained seated. The soldiers had all left their places, which meant that Taimin could see the Protector clearly. The Protector’s brow was furrowed in an angry glare. Evidently he could see that Taimin’s group was outnumbered, and was waiting for Galen to take care of the situation.

  Taimin turned his attention to the lower tiers. He braced himself. If Elsa’s rebels decided to flee rather than fight, Taimin’s group would be overwhelmed. He could see some of the poorer folk heading for the nearest exit. He gritted his teeth. They couldn’t go. This was their time.

  Galen had regained some of his confidence. The last of his men had entered the fighting pit. He rested his gaze on Taimin and opened his mouth, no doubt to order the attack.

  Taimin knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

  He raised his sword and sucked in a deep lungful of air. His voice had to be loud enough to be heard above the cacophony. “People of Zorn! This is your time. Rise up and join us!”

  As soon as Taimin finished, Galen cast him a look of dry humor.

  Taimin turned his head to stare in all directions. Disappointment was like a heavy stone in his stomach.

  No one was coming to his aid.

  40

  “I feel ill,” Merin said in a weak voice.

  Arren gave Merin a look of contempt. “Have some faith. Galen will sort this out.”

  As Taimin called on the citizens, all Selena knew was that she had to help him. The soldiers outnumbered the prisoners. The people in the crowd were afraid.

  Selena used her rage to feed the power that was walled off in her mind. She thought about Galen, who had burned bax settlements, butchered their infants, and thrown prisoners into the arena to fight and die. The Protector’s worst crimes were perpetrated against his own people. He had lied to them, and incited a war, simply so he could maintain power.

  The fiery inferno that was her symbol grew larger and larger. With Merin weak, the wall that she pushed against wasn’t as strong as it had been before. She clenched her jaw tightly as Taimin’s desperate face searched the crowd. Stars sparkled in her vision. The wall tried to close in, but hers was a fire that could not be extinguished. Her symbol grew bigger and brighter, a great sun that overwhelmed her senses.