On a Razor's Edge

by K. F. Breene

  “I wasn’t planning to deal with you myself.” Darla laughed.

  “You were planning to let a child handle me, then?” Jonas stepped forward slowly, experienced and lethal. Adnan was good for his age, but Jonas had many years on him with the added bonus of unparalleled viciousness.

  “Not at all. I brought the child to appear legit. He was too stupid to realize what was going on, unlike my other lackey. She had to be put down.”

  She must have been talking about Mira! Sasha felt a rush of fury at the cruel injustice.

  Darla looked over her shoulder at six men at arms stepping through the foliage.

  “Shit,” Jonas swore, taking another step, this time in front of me.

  “You see, I come prepared,” Darla continued. “Thanks for getting her this far, though. Underground was a great idea, but short lived.”

  Adnan blinked, his sword lowering, his attention bouncing back and forth between Darla, the new additions—which apparently didn’t belong to Stefan’s clan—and Jonas. I was doing the same thing. Darla had always been a bitch, but never a double-crossing bitch. Jonas, on the other hand, had never struck me as trustworthy.

  As if hearing my thoughts, and desperate to disband them, Jonas shouted, “Sasha, run!” He launched his body forward, bypassing Adnan and aiming directly for the first man through the trees.

  “Grab her!” Darla shouted, propelling toward me.

  Adnan, finally catching on, stepped in front of her, his blade whirling.

  That’s all I saw. Afraid to do magic lest I accidentally blow up the good guys, I ran. No destination in mind, just away. I would not be captured again. Trek and Andris knew what I was now. I was sure of it. If they were coming for me again, they didn’t plan to let me go once they got me.

  A blind panicked run later I heard the first screech of an animal in pain. That sorrowful dog’s wail, so much worse, somehow, than a human screaming or crying. The wail cut off abruptly.

  My every instinct urged me to find a place to hide and wait all this out. But if I did that, I would forever be a coward. No matter if I made up for it later by somehow winning the whole war single-handedly, I would always remember that first battle where I skulked away and let other people die on my behalf.

  The caped moron and his minions had come to this place because of me. Andris fought these people to acquire me as a prize. People were dying and screaming on my behalf.

  To save me. In what world could I live with that knowledge, without helping them fight back?

  No world I wanted to live in, that was for sure.

  “Damn it!” I sprinted toward my cabin, darted through the door and pawed through my possessions. One thing was for certain, I had to have my trusty rape whistle. It had always been good luck in these sorts of things, and by God, it would see me through. Obviously I grabbed my dagger, too. I wasn’t a complete idiot.

  With that, I sprinted back out, my chest throbbing with the magic in the air, proof the Dulcha were in the area. I might as well just call the damn things. They’d seek me out anyway.

  At a jog I aimed for the heart of the most noise, the night flickering bright with explosions or blasts of spells. Looming trees illuminated with a rainbow of glows for seconds at a time, serious spells and charms zinging around the place. Apparently the caped white mage had found the non-caped variety. I had no doubt Toa was winning.

  Until I got closer.

  Dodging in between the trees with the agility born of someone I wasn’t, I saw a blast of white leave the fingers of a glowing blond ghost, his hair flying in the breeze like feathers, so like the vampires in the stories, with his graceful elegance and ethereal beauty, I nearly recoiled thinking another magical kind of person had shown up. As a huge wolf bounded in front of me, teeth bared in a drool-flinging snarl, I properly saw what Toa was up against. How many Toa was up against.

  Trek stood some distance away on a rock outcropping, blasting spell after attack spell Toa’s way. Those, Toa seemed to block without too much concern, wiping them aside with a defensive spell, and then throwing his own in return. The problem was the Dulcha. There were dozens aiming for Toa, giant beasts with fangs and claws, hurling magic or flailing razor-sharp claws. Some even created other representations of themselves, spinning charms and spells as if they were human.

  A sickening realization hit me. They were human—at least the essence of them. The body long since dead, their blood and Trek’s magic had created these disgusting monsters. Toa didn’t have any Dulcha because he wasn’t a murderer of innocent people. The very thought of it was as revolting as it was rage inspiring.

  Toa had to cast three spells to Trek’s one. Stefan had sent less than half a dozen warriors. The Mata, for their part, fought fiercely, tooth and claw biting and scratching beast or man, able to cut through monsters like magically coated blades. So, we had some brawn, but not a lot of magic throwers.

  No pressure.

  Here we go, let’s add some of my own monsters to the mix!

  I pulled up the sleeves of my hoodie and let the magic fill me. Calling the elements, I drew in so much fire my face felt hot.

  Three wolves surrounded me, facing out, snarling and growling as one. Now two Dulcha noticed me on the scene. That, of course, drew enemy eyes. One even pointed.

  Howdy boys and girls! Wanna see a magic show?

  I sent a blast of orange toward a tree way behind enemy lines, my power going up in an arc and falling like a star. I always made the absolute best monsters with orange. In the dark distance I could see a tree burst into magical fire, orange flame licking up the side into the top, the whole thing shimmering until a huge foot yanked out of the ground.

  I sent another. They would come toward me, trampling and killing anything in their path. That would get Trek looking.

  I tried to take off toward Toa, but a snarling wolf cut me off, the three—now four guard wolves—trying to herd me out of harm’s way.

  “Do you want to die? Because without me you have no chance unless you run!” I raised my voice high, trying to throw it over the sounds of howling from my tree creations.

  “Move!” I yelled.

  The wolf in front of me stuck its tail between its legs, whining as I ran around it. A second later they tailed me, watching my back and flanks like a hunting party.

  I shot past a vicious tiger, a massive paw slashing through the chest of his opponent. Blood and guts spilled out to the ground, making me gag.

  Near Toa, I saw a giant—and I mean giant—Kodiak bear, wielding huge claws with the sharp intellect of Tim. He stood over fifteen feet tall when upright, swiping at Dulcha with hundreds of pounds of raw power. Bodies were ripped in half if they got too close, monsters with twisted heads and strange bodies came apart like statues made of leather, then puffed into smoke. Still, he could barely keep them at bay, those attacking making clones of themselves somehow, shooting magic and drifting toward Toa.

  Time to sound the siren.

  “Leave the Dulcha to me!” I screamed.

  The shaggy bear’s head swung toward me, huge tufted ears twitching. He stood on his back legs, his massive body dwarfing all those around him, while he let out a ground-shaking roar.

  I sucked in the magic, feeling my chest spark, a flame within, glowing to life. Hotter and hotter the magic around me swirled, my limbs catching on fire, my skin prickling. More and more, calling those monsters, one or three at a time, tempting them with my raw power.

  “Here monster, monster, monster. Join me!”

  Huge men came at me, glowing tattoos and swords, trying to cut me down where I stood. They felt my draw, felt me calling the power, like the North Pole attracts compass needles. Wolves surged forward, keeping the enemy at bay, letting me call the monsters. The tiger jumped in my path, launching at a six and a half foot guy about to strike at me, the tiger’s jaw fitting around the guy’s head. I turned my head away as the head popped off.

  I held the power, the magic pulsing out in waves, turning every
Dulcha in my direction. I saw my tree men, wanting a piece of that action, too. This was about to get messy.

  I blasted some trees while I waited, red streams firing out from my hands. I sent a spiral of flame toward Trek, a satisfied laugh filling me as his cap caught on fire. My laugh turned into giddy cackling, the magic infusing my body and prickling my skin.

  I needed to release soon. I couldn’t totally shut off the tide.

  “Clear out of the way,” I instructed my growing mass of animal body guards as the first five heinous monsters glided my way.

  Blue or purple, they weren’t packing much; more like Halloween glow lights than actual threats.

  “Join me!” they called in their eerie speech of what sounded like consonants. “I promise great rewards…”

  I pushed out my open palm like a stop motion, and then curled it around and up, grabbing the air around them. I squeezed with my fist, the magic acting out my miming, bending their bodies and exploding the magic out of them.

  Sweat beaded my brow, more energy taken than I had anticipated. Not good.

  I threw out two red jets, blasting open a tree and scattering whatever attack pattern the enemy had tried for. A red jet came my way, trying to bind me.

  “I know how to break that one, now.” My black magic crept into the fibers and disintegrated the spell.

  I threw out another tree monster, one of the first two having been taken down. I erupted some hives of blue beetles way far away from me, the pests climbing on anything in their path and magically biting legs and faces and whatever they could get at. It wouldn’t kill anyone, but it sure hurt like bloody hell.

  White exploded around me, knocking me off my feet. I landed in a bush ten feet away, my ears ringing, my leg screaming, surrounded by Dulcha. I sat up groggily, furry bodies leaping to my aid, standing in front of me, fangs showing and hair bristling. A panther jumped down from a tree branch onto the nearest monster, scratching and clawing the thing to bits.

  My leg pounded along with my heartbeat. One attempt to get up had my shin bursting with agony and my head swimming. I leaned against the bush and shielded myself from future Trek attacks. It would drain me every time his magic hit my shield, but that was the good thing about having more power than him, he’d drain faster than me. Eat that!

  I zapped off a few fraying spells, my magic wrapping around three Dulcha, unraveling the fabric of their spells. It seemed to work okay, the creatures disintegrating like a sugar witch in the rain. I zipped off a couple more as white exploded against my shield.

  That asshole is starting to piss me off! Just to be a bitch, I fired off a spell in his direction, a zap of pure electricity. He blocked it, the fiend, but it sucked more energy out of him than he was probably used to.

  Back to the never ending monsters. I needed to learn more aggressive spells.

  I created a tree monster too close. Crap! I fired fraying spells at will, my aim not great under pressure, but the mass of magical bodies starting to crowd around me making even a misfire useful. Smoky wisps clouded my vision, and still they came. Trek must have brought his whole damn arsenal. He was trying for genocide.

  “I need you to move me,” I shouted to four furry bodies slashing at monsters in front of me. “I can’t walk on my leg, but we need distance. They’ll follow me wherever I go; I just have to get there. Somewhere.”

  Before the first wolf could get in position, the tiger jogged closer, his movements elegant and graceful even though his back was as high as my chest.

  He gave one growl and a head jerk.

  Get on.

  “You are huge, and I think my leg is broken,” I responded, zipping out a few more spells, needing the wolves to start ripping and tearing with vigor as the masses drew closer. It was like a mosh pit at a rock concert.

  A mountain lion padded up, his baby-like cry having my bones vibrating. I’d heard real mountain lions when they came down from the mountains, and their screech terrified me.

  At least, I’d thought it was a real mountain lion at the time…

  The tiger growled and jerked its head again, the smaller lion—though not by any means small—acting like a step ladder to boost me up. The wolves’ snarls drowned out the night, the monsters starting to wade closer.

  I grabbed fur and fell toward the mountain lion, half doing a pull-up, half hopping, to get my good leg on its back. I clawed myself higher, the radiating pain in my shin wanting to blot out my consciousness with each pulse of pure agony.

  Eye on the prize, I threw my body over the tiger’s back, and then swung my bad leg over his haunches, screaming with the pain. Taking big steadying breaths, I blasted a black spell in Trek’s direction, the magic silky, like an oil slick on water, as it wound through the air--then splashed off his defenses. I’d made that one special, though. It would act like acid, slowly eating away power levels as it burrowed in. It would deplete me, also, but I needed the end in sight. With my leg like it was, I didn’t have long before the pain and shock took me under. I was already starting to get cold, and it had only been a few minutes. My body had started to shut down.

  Okay, time to get serious.

  Clutching onto the tiger’s back, not knowing his intention and deciding I didn’t care—I didn’t plan to get off—I thought back to the first time I used a spell on the Dulcha. Somehow I had blasted into the fiber of the thing and reached the root to its magic, going back to the source and cutting off the flow of power. Somehow.

  Pain making my head throb, I closed my eyes, not worrying about tears. I felt those bastards floating closer, drifting toward my magic like sharks to blood. I also felt my magical acid dripping into Trek’s defenses, his power eroding and him not knowing why.

  My cheek lay on surprisingly soft tiger fur. I didn’t even stick out my palm. I envisioned a beating heart at the center of each monster, a cord from its body to the source of magic. I created magical shears, so black that light penetrated, bent to it, and got lost in its gaping maw. I plunged those shears into the first beast, rooting around, finding what felt like a well of palpitating magic, and snipped.

  Magic was sucked out of me. The spell was trying to reach every Dulcha, of which there were hundreds. The magic drew from my body and looked for more when I started to run out. I opened myself up wide, drawing it out of the air, stealing it from Trek’s shield, borrowing it from the tiger and surrounding wolves, and calling to Stefan through the link, begging him for help.

  Toa’s voice echoed through my head. “Once the spell has been created, it will need to run its course. Your magic is different than mine. With your magic, there is no turning off the faucet once you have set it in motion. You will ride it until it completes the spell, or it drains enough energy to kill you.”

  “So that’s what he meant,” I said weakly, my head getting fuzzy. “There are so many,” I mumbled as the magic drained faster than I could fill.

  Then I felt a surge. A great swell of swirling elements up through my middle, refilling me with energy as I lay on the tiger’s back, fading. Stefan was replenishing me. He was close! How had I missed that?

  I felt more than saw a burnished gold sword held by flashing tattoos on rippled arms, the blade fading to gold as my eyes drooped, his power diminishing with what he was giving me. I could potentially kill both of us unless he cut off his donation. Which he wouldn’t. But there was nothing I could do.

  Protect the tiger! I heard through the haze.

  As blackness consumed me, my body shutting down from the magical trauma and agony from my leg, I heard a bloodcurdling scream wrench the night. My spell had indirectly reached the source, cutting off the last Dulcha from Trek’s original spell. It probably hurt worse than my leg. Like ripping out a kidney without drugs.

  “Capture him!” someone yelled.

  My mind stopped comprehending. I felt empty. The battle raged, part of the enemy faction trying to get to me, but others running in another direction.

  I began to hear their screams and calls to r
etreat. And then I felt my last remaining tree monster. I didn’t have the energy to cut the power.

  “Get moving. Take her to safety.” Stefan’s voice sounded like angels singing.

  I reached my hand out, trying to touch him, only seeing a hazy orange glow.

  “Charles, with Sasha. Take the wolves. I’ll help Tim,” Stefan ordered.

  I had a lot to live up to if I hoped to match his prowess for command. He wasn’t even directing his own people and they rushed to follow his lead.

  I let my mind get even hazier as we moved away from the yelling and sword clashes. Stefan had probably brought his people, which meant the fight was nearly done. Sleep would happen soon. Or fever. We’d see.

  Chapter 10

  “How is she?” the Boss demanded as he entered the Mata hospital cabin twenty-four hours after the battle.

  Charles got up immediately from his chair by Sasha’s head and moved to the other side of the bed. “She’s okay. Compound fracture in her leg, so that’s going to take ages to heal. She’s a human, after all. Toa helped a little with a spell, but he didn’t say how much that would speed it up. Bumps and bruises, she’ll probably be extremely weak with magic for a few days, but other than that she’ll survive.”

  The Boss lowered himself into the chair, gently taking up Sasha’s hand where it rested on the bed. Charles had never seen the man move so delicately, careful not to disturb her. Seeing this form of vulnerability made him nervous; he knew that on the other side of it was a white hot rage that would destroy anything in its path. Charles stepped away toward the window.

  Technically, it wasn’t Charles’s fault sheʼd ended up like this. Jonas had gotten to her first and tried to move her to safety. Out of everyone, no one had thought Darla was smart enough to get in league with Andris and his goons. No one had suspected her of anything more than trying to drown Sasha and steal the Boss back. This was a stretch, even for her. Which was probably why it had worked out badly.