by Ryan Kirk
Next to him was a young girl who hadn’t seen more than fourteen cycles. She was dressed in the black robes of a nightblade, but her gift was weak, so weak Asa almost didn’t notice it. She approached, using her sense to ensure no one was nearby.
The dayblade smiled weakly. “Thank you for coming,” he coughed. Blood spurted out of his mouth with every syllable.
Asa didn’t know what to say but knelt in front of the man.
“It’s too late for me,” he said, “but this is my granddaughter, Junko, and I’d like you to get her out of here.”
Once, Asa might not have accepted. When her purpose in life was to find and kill Osamu, her own survival was paramount. Today she barely hesitated. She bowed to the blade and stood up. Soldiers were coming. This section of the city had been entirely overrun.
Junko was unwilling to leave the dayblade. Asa gave them a few moments, but time was their enemy. She grabbed the girl’s arm. “We don’t have much time. If you honor your grandfather, say goodbye, and let’s go.” Her voice was firm, but she tried to keep the truth from sounding harsher than it was.
They weren’t going to be fast enough. Two soldiers turned the corner, and Asa was on them without hesitation. If they escaped and brought more soldiers, the chance of the two nightblades escaping was zero. She slid in the mud, cutting low on both soldiers, bringing them to the ground.
When she stood up, the girl seemed to be in shock. Her grandfather was dead, and Asa was running out of patience.
Asa came up to her. “Your choice. Either leave with me or die here, but I need to go.”
Junko came out of her stupor as Asa looked around for an escape route. Their best bet seemed the rooftops. There were too many soldiers to fight through on the ground.
Asa pushed the girl up onto a roof and then climbed up herself as the rain continued to fall. Using a combination of her sense and sight, Asa guided them toward the gate, hoping it would still be open by the time they got there.
Rooftop by rooftop, Asa got them closer, often crouching and waiting for a soldier to turn his back. Junko was weaker than Asa, so she had to find narrow gaps to jump whenever she could. Occasionally they had to get down from the roof, cross a road, then climb back up.
The going was slow, but eventually they reached what passed as the front lines, just a few dozen paces away from the final gate. Asa peered at the girl, who looked as though she wasn’t willing to run through the horror of combat in front of them. Asa locked eyes with her.
“Are you a nightblade?”
The girl nodded.
“Then act like one. All you need to do is get to the gate and run to the army out there. You’ll be protected.”
Junko didn’t seem to be any more convinced, but Asa could see her limbs get in position for the jump. Asa nodded, and they dropped off the safety of the rooftop. The battle almost immediately engulfed them, and Asa’s swords were everywhere. The girl drew her own sword, but she wasn’t very fast. Asa blocked a cut coming at the girl and then killed the soldier who made it.
Distracted, Asa almost missed a cut coming at her. The girl didn’t, though. She blocked it for Asa, and then the older nightblade cut down the assailant. Asa gave the girl a quick bow of thanks and then pushed her toward the gate. Junko hesitated only for a moment and then ran.
Asa fought with the remaining nightblades, her strikes slowing down as exhaustion took its inevitable toll. They kept giving up ground, hoping for any more blades to come to the gate. It wasn’t long, though, before they realized there would be no more survivors. Asa and Junko had been among the last. Their orders unspoken, the nightblades gave up ground even more readily, soon being pushed out of the gate, out of their city, and to the open space beyond.
Then Asa realized they were in trouble. Katashi’s soldiers kept pushing through the gate, intent on killing every nightblade they could. The blades couldn’t simply turn and run but instead were out in the open. Katashi’s troops were starting to surround the nightblades who had fought so hard to protect the evacuation.
Asa had just enough time to sigh in resignation. She had succeeded in her mission, but this was still the final day she would draw breath. There was no escaping the waves of soldiers pouring out of the gate after them.
Asa took a deep breath and prepared for her final battle. She was ready.
When the first arrows landed, Asa thought that Katashi’s archers were firing on his own troops. Only one or two soldiers fell in that first volley, but everyone paused for a moment to look into the sky, confusion evident on all faces.
Asa’s vision was suddenly crowded by the black streaks that signified death at the end of their journey. They fell all around the group of nightblades, killing another dozen of Katashi’s men.
Asa stared, uncertain how to feel. As reason reasserted itself, she traced the flight of the arrows and saw the wave of troops wearing blue uniforms advancing in an orderly manner.
Mari. Mari was coming to save them.
The arrows continued to fall, now in a disorganized, chaotic manner. But they were no less deadly.
Katashi’s troops reacted more quickly than Asa did. They broke ranks and fled back to the walls of Starfall, seeking protection wherever they might. Almost half fell to Mari’s archers before they could reach safety, arrows piercing them mercilessly in the back.
For what seemed like forever, Asa simply watched, her mind understanding what was happening, her body unable to react. She had been ready to die, but apparently it wouldn’t be today.
She was completely exhausted. Asa sat on her knees, wanting nothing more than to sleep for most of a moon. The rain poured down, and the sky was almost as dark as night.
She was alive, but Starfall was no more.
Chapter 27
After the blades evacuated Starfall, the battle was over.
Katashi, devious and blinded by hatred as he was, was no fool. More than two hundred blades had made it out of the city, survivors of the short-lived but terrible siege. With Mari’s forces reinforced by the blades, Katashi knew there was no chance of victory in battle. His troops immediately retreated to their original lines, and once the storm passed, the soldiers who had taken Starfall set a torch to what little remained as they left.
Several commanders and blades had urged Mari to attack Katashi’s forces, but she held back. The damage had been done. Starfall was gone. She had no doubt Katashi was organizing his retreat, and she didn’t think they would capture him if they tried.
Instead, Mari ordered that the focus be put on the survivors. Dayblades went around healing soldiers who would accept their help, and they made believers out of many in her army.
She looked out over the ruins of Starfall with a heavy heart. She knew that this was the beginning of a new age. The Kingdom, even though it still existed in name, was no more. The blades were now homeless, and despite the efforts of the Lady in White, much fear still surrounded them.
Mari didn’t know the way forward. Her control of the army was tenuous at best, and she had to balance the expectations of blades, soldiers, and civilians alike. All she knew was that she had to try. Her house depended on her.
She missed Takahiro. Her guard was coming with his contingent of blades, but they hadn’t been in time for the siege or its aftermath. His pragmatic worldview and honest opinions were needed more than ever. A few more days, she reminded herself, and she would be able to count on his advice once again.
If she didn’t know what to do, she did know what principles she wanted to govern by. She had sent a notice to all commanders of the army and to the blades. A half moon from now, they would decide if she should lead them.
The idea had come from Takashi’s works, the secret tome she had carried with her since she had begun this journey. The people had a right to choose, and she didn’t want people serving her who didn’t want to.
She had one final task to set aside before she could turn her full attention to her people. She dreaded the confrontation but couldn
’t put it off forever. With a sigh, she turned away from the sight of Starfall and headed toward her camp.
Mari entered the tent cautiously, even though she knew both residents sensed her approach. A gentle entrance still somehow seemed appropriate.
Asa and Koji had shared the tent since the siege of Starfall. Mari had her suspicions about their relationship but didn’t say anything. Her own relationship with the two had been tense, to say the least. Despite what Mari had said to Asa before she left, she had allowed some of the first dayblades who came into their camp to heal Koji.
Although she hadn’t talked with anyone directly, she’d heard rumors that Koji had come as close to death as you could. Word of his deeds had spread. The young nightblade had a monumental reputation to live up to now. Too many had seen him fight, and at times Mari thought perhaps Koji was even more respected than she.
Asa offered her tea, and Mari accepted. The three sat around a table, Koji’s movements slower than those of an old man. From how he looked, Mari assumed he had a long journey of healing ahead of him.
They sat in silence, the two nightblades clearly waiting for her to speak.
She still wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. Rationally she knew that where she was today was as much a result of the work of these two nightblades as anyone else. They had proven their loyalty with blood and actions.
But she wanted to kill Koji. She imagined driving a sword into his bandaged torso and reopening his wounds, twisting the blade as she did. She wanted his death to be slow.
Juro had been a good leader and a great brother. She wanted him back.
With blinding speed, Koji drew his sword out of his sheath. Mari jumped. She was grateful she hadn’t been holding her tea, or it would have spilled all over her.
Without a word, Koji slowly turned the sword around and laid it on the table between them, the sharp edge of the blade pointed toward him.
Mari stared at the steel that had killed her brother, visions of grabbing the sword and taking Koji’s head filling her sight.
He bowed down in front of her, giving her exactly the opportunity she desired.
Even though Koji didn’t say a word, his meaning was perfectly clear. He was willing to give everything to serve Mari. She had seen that herself and couldn’t deny it. If she wanted his life, it was hers to take.
Mari stood and picked up Koji’s sword, testing the weight in her hands.
The lady glanced over at Asa, who sat sipping her tea, calm and composed. Only her eyes gave her away, slowly filling with tears.
How had they gotten here? How had she earned the ability to take the lives of such warriors without them fighting back?
Mari stepped to Koji’s side. She raised the sword above her head, preparing the strike.
Asa closed her eyes, pushing the tears out. Then she reopened them and kept them focused.
Mari hesitated, the sword high in the air. Killing Koji was just, her right as a ruler.
She brought the sword down.
Gently.
Mari put the sword back on the table and knelt. She picked up her tea and sipped. She wasn’t sure she’d ever tasted a better cup.
Asa smiled at her, and when Koji came back up, his own eyes were filled with water.
Both nightblades bowed down to her, their foreheads to the floor. It had to be painful for Koji, but he persisted. After they had both held the pose for a long time, they sat back up.
Mari didn’t have the words. She hadn’t forgiven Koji. But this was a start. She smiled, a weight lifted off her shoulders, and she received matching grins in return.
She didn’t trust herself to say anything. She finished her tea and stood up, giving them each a short bow. Then she left the tent.
If they were going to build a better world, it started now.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A novel is always a massive undertaking, and this one is no different. A tremendous team came together to make this possible, and they have my eternal gratitude.
Many thanks to Adrienne, who brought this whole story to life. Thanks also to Jason for making sure the production ran smoothly, which makes my life substantially easier. I suspect both do more behind the scenes than I’ll ever know.
Everyone who has edited this book has made it far better than I could on my own. Thanks to Clarence for his insight and wisdom, and to Jill and Cheri for their sharp eyes and wonderful comments. Any mistakes that remain in this work are solely my own.
A great thanks to everyone else at 47North who had a hand in the production of this book and that I didn’t get to interact with directly. Whether it’s cover design, interior design, marketing, or any of the other tasks that go into making these words into novels, every detail matters. Thank you.
Finally, thanks to my friends and family for allowing me to hide in the basement for hours on end to write these books. I couldn’t do it without you.
With gratitude,
Ryan
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ryan Kirk is the author of the Nightblade series of fantasy novels and its prequel series, Blades of the Fallen. He is the founder of Waterstone Media and was an English teacher and nonprofit consultant before diving into writing full-time in 2015. For more information about Ryan, visit his website at www.waterstonemedia.net.
