Lady of Blades

by Saje Williams

  Athena felt betrayed. Of all of the beings that attended her councils, employee, advisor, or friend, she'd expected Nemesis Breed to stand behind her with regard to Jaz's crimes. But Nemesis had sided with the others, refusing to condemn Jaz for her actions.

  It had been a couple days, and Athena had grown more comfortable with the notion of wearing the eyepatch, though it did lend her a certain rakish air. She was enough of a local celebrity, but even those who ordinarily couldn't resist the urge to talk to her avoided her single glaring eye as if it could curse them of its own volition.

  It was one thing to brush shoulders with greatness—quite another to have greatness look at you as if it wanted to flay you alive.

  Not until the end of the day did Nemesis acknowledge the eight-hundred pound gorilla, metaphorically speaking, that had accompanied them on their travels throughout the afternoon. “Deryk says you brought it on yourself,” she said, as they found a place in Wright Park to settle and watch a couple of squirrels wrestle on the grass.

  "Of course he does,” Athena growled. “So what of it?"

  "He's right. You know, I got my job in no little part to yours and his influence in this city. But I keep it because I'm good at what I do. I've got to ride herd on the egos of a couple of dozen detectives, play ball with the brass, and occasionally placate the press without rubbing anyone the wrong way. I, essentially, have the same damn job as you."

  Athena's lone eye bore straight through her. “Are you going somewhere with all this?"

  Nemesis sighed. “You have a talent for the kind of leadership that inspires people, Athena, but seem to have none for the nuances of managing them. Deft touches work a hell of a lot better than direction by brute force. Like in a fight. It requires a hell of a lot less energy to re-direct a blow than smash it aside. Soft style as opposed to hard.

  "Ever study Taoism?"

  Athena shook her head. “Not really into all that mystical mumbo-jumbo."

  Nemesis grinned. “The sages teach that to oppose something directly gives it power, to reach for something too aggressively can push it away. Taking a series of small actions at the right times can be far more effective than taking one drastic one when it becomes absolutely necessary."

  "You've lost me."

  "You're kidding. Athena—you micro-manage. You don't seem to understand that you don't have to be in control of every situation."

  "Are you calling me a control freak?"

  "If the shoe fits. You tell me."

  Athena sucked at her teeth. That was a tell Quickfingers had never seen from her before. She was suddenly uncertain in a way he'd never seen, or expected of her. He nibbled on the end of one finger, considering.

  It was about time to illustrate Nemesis's earlier point. He transported himself to the table with a loud whoosh, making the transition between ethereal to physical in the same instant. He grabbed at two of his five ears and gave her the best hangdog look he could manage. His mobile face bent into a truly impressive pout and he forced a tear to well up just for effect. He sniffed. “If you hurt my boss, who would I have to pester? Would you be my new boss?"

  Athena gave a start. “What?"

  "If anything happens to Jaz, I'll dedicate my entire existence to plaguing you.” He grinned. “And you have no idea how bad it can get."

  And then he vanished.

  Ten

  It took a few days for Jaz to relax into the ambient peace of the small island where Quickfingers had so thoughtfully marooned her, but, when she did, she found herself growing to enjoy the solitude—damn near the first real solitude she'd ever known—more than she could have ever imagined.

  Amidst all the other life that thronged the island, she found a remarkable pink and green parrot species that immediately caught her fancy. She resolved early on to find a way to tame one of them before she went home.

  She found, to her surprise, not only a tiny freshwater lake in the middle of the island, but also a hot spring that fed into the same rivulet that carried the lake-water to the sea. Almost as if it were set up by design.

  She basked in the sun, climbed trees to harvest coconuts and fruit, and spent a lot of time in the water. It gave her the opportunity to reflect on the past couple months.

  She still didn't regret killing the first guy ... not really. She hadn't intended on it, but it was certainly the right thing to do at the time. Had she been even a little bit faster the girl would still be alive. That was the guilt that gnawed at her. Avatar ... Thanatos—whatever his name was—was another story.

  Killing shouldn't be that easy. She hadn't thought about it, she had just done it. For the next several hours she'd simply felt hollow, a vast empty space inside her where humanity had been. Then Athena. Why did I take her eye?

  It would grow back. It would. She'll hate me forever for that.

  She'd allowed her anger to run loose and it had left carnage in its wake. She felt ashamed and deeply frightened by what she'd become. She wondered if Athena had been right to try to kill her after all. Maybe she should be put down like a rabid dog.

  The negativity didn't consume her, but these thoughts bubbled to the surface regularly as the days wore on. The serpent in this Garden of Eden was her own restless mind, she realized.

  * * * *

  She sat with her feet dangling in one of the hot pools, eyes closed, trying to connect with the sweet song of a nearby bird when a harsh, unnatural sound burst through her musings. She lifted her head, trying to place the sound.

  A boat, approaching the lagoon. She hopped up and jogged down one of the paths she'd cleared on her first day here. She approached the sheltered cove carefully, crouching beside a thorny bush and peering through its foliage at the approaching craft.

  It was a long, sleek craft, its shark-like length painted a deep gray, like storm clouds boiling in the distance. A smuggler's boat, no doubt. What was it doing here?

  She didn't want visitors, she decided. There had to be a way to get rid of them without showing herself. She rubbed her chin and allowed a sly smile to creep across her face. Certainly some imp-like tricks would be enough to send them packing.

  She allowed that merry thought to occupy her mind for a moment, then caught sight of something in the boat that made her draw a quick breath. Around the outside, seated were several men, including the man at the helm. Standing in the middle of the craft were what looked like four girls—and were those chains around their wrists?

  Fuck. You've got to be kidding me. Even here? She let out a low groan. Why me? Is this some karma thing? The men jumped out of the boat and pushed it onto the beach and she took a hard look at the girls.

  Asian. Barely into puberty ... thirteen, fourteen. Four frightened girls held captive by six—no, seven—males. Imp tricks were out. Karma or not, this was for her to deal with. Should I kill them?

  The sudden impulse to do just that came over her, and she sat still while she waited for it to pass. If I kill them, it's going to be because I decided to—not because I let my emotions rule me.

  Why kill them? Because they're bastards. Because I need to free the girls. I can't have them chasing us, or telling anyone where we may have gone. I could just steal the boat right now, but what if they have another boat nearby?

  Better for them to disappear completely than to be left to tell tales.

  Sounds like a plan to me.

  She stood and stepped out from behind the bush, remembering only after the fact that she'd been naked since the second day here.

  One of the men, doing a hasty scan of the area as the others moved to lift the girls out, spotted her and let out a startled yelp. That caught the others’ attention and they paused in their efforts to have a look at what their companion had seen.

  For an instant they all shared the same stunned expression. Then one bolted toward her. That set the whole bunch scrambling into a mad race around the edge of the lagoon. A couple simply threw themselves into the water and swam.

  She sighed. More death.r />
  In her grasp a thread became a razor edged whip, sharper than a length of Constantine wire. It struck invisibly, bisecting the nearest attacker so neatly he didn't realize it until his torso and legs parted company.

  She called her sword to hand and sprang fifteen feet to meet the next two in line. They froze, stricken both by what had happened to their buddy and her stunning leap. Two slashes later they were dead men standing. They didn't even fall until she was past them and halfway to the next clump.

  They'd marked her as dangerous now. Hands scrambled for weapons tucked into their waistbands, or worn in well-weathered holsters on their belts. Lust transformed into terror.

  She snatched a strand and cast it at the ground in front of them. Sand exploded in their faces.

  It looked like a dance, or a martial arts kata, as she snatched three strands in succession and quickly wove them into a spell while the men were still staggering around trying to clear their vision. It tumbled from between her fingers and rolled toward them, a ghostly web of light in the shape of a ball.

  It unfolded just as it reached them. En masse, they simply vanished, sucked down a transit tube into the earth two miles beneath their feet. An instant grave, impossible to escape.

  She drew a shuddering breath. They'd never had a chance. So easy. So frighteningly easy. Face it, Jaz, you're a killer. She started toward the boat, suddenly numb. Is it dusk already? The world was growing darker and she felt herself stumbling. So tired.

  She didn't feel the beach when she face-planted into the sand.

  * * * *

  Running water. A stream or brook. Was that music in the background? What happened? Where am I? She opened her eyes. She was indoors, on a white canopied bed. Fresh cool air blew in through a small square window beside the bed, a single flower swaying to its rhythms.

  A sweet floral scent wafted in, tinged with the smell of ... food? Cooked food? Her stomach growled.

  "Ah, you're awake. Good."

  Her head snapped around. On the other side of the bed, hidden in the depths of a huge plush chair, curled a small dark-skinned woman. She almost reminded Jaz of her mother. “Where am I?"

  Thin lips curved into a gentle smile as dark eyes danced. “Somewhere safe. As are the girls you rescued."

  That was hardly an answer to her question, but she'd take it. She pushed herself up and gazed around the room. She wasn't in a grass hut, that was for sure. “How'd I get here?"

  "I brought you here."

  "Well, thanks, I guess ... Who are you again?"

  She shifted in her chair, coiling both legs beneath her. “The name you'd know is Bast."

  "The Egyptian cat-goddess?"

  "Once."

  "And now?"

  "Now I'm the sole goddess of a small forgotten tribe on an island lost to the rest of the world.” Bast chuckled and shrugged. “Such is fate.

  "You, on the other hand, are Jasmine Tashae—mage, warrior, and Deryk Shea's adopted daughter."

  "Out of sight but not out of touch, I see."

  "Hermes drops by occasionally,” she said, by way of explanation.

  Jaz sighed. “Listen, Bast—” The goddess arced a thin brow. “I appreciate you rescuing us all after I ... passed out or whatever ... but I should probably be heading back to civilization about now."

  "Perhaps. Or perhaps you'd like to stay here as our guest for a while."

  Jaz frowned. “Why would I want to do that?"

  "To keep from accidentally killing yourself the next time."

  "What? Now, listen—"

  "There is a time for speaking and a time for learning things. This is a time for learning things.” Bast leaned forward, her dark eyes shimmering intently. “I don't know what they're teaching in that magic school of yours, but any second year student I've ever seen knows better than to do what you did."

  "What did I do? I don't understand."

  "Where does mana come from?"

  "From ... from us, I guess.” Jaz furrowed her brow, trying to remember the explanations they'd drilled into her back at the Academy. She probably would have learned more theory if she hadn't been so talented at the practical side of the whole business. “Mana is leftover energy from probabilities that never come to pass."

  "That'll do. So how much mana do you think is generated around a remote island with no native human population?"

  Jaz blinked. “None?"

  "Unless the parrots are much smarter than I thought, that's about right. You didn't stop to think about that ... you threw two mana effects and a two-strand spell, all in a place that had no resident mana. So where do you think it came from?"

  Jaz was beginning to the get the picture. She didn't like it much. “From me?"

  "Mostly, yes. You created mana out of your own life energy ... the psychic vitality that keeps all of us going. You did it instinctively. In this circumstance, that's not a good thing. If you'd gone for one more thread, you probably would've snuffed your life out like a candle. Immortal or not.

  "It is this psychic vitality that allows us to manipulate mana. We use only the tiniest fraction of our totality when we use mana that's already present. Creating it, however, is very draining.” A dry smile touched her lips. “To which you can now attest."

  "Huh. Never learned any of that at the Academy."

  "Odd. Isn't Thoth teaching there?"

  Jaz shook her head. “He taught the first year students. He let them teach everyone who came after them."

  Bast's eyebrows arched and uttered a distinctly feline hiss. “That doesn't make any sense. You have no spell web, no chains ... any mage looking at you could tell you're little better than half-trained."

  Jaz felt a queer little tumble in the pit of her stomach. She really didn't like what she was hearing. “I don't even know what those things are."

  "That doesn't surprise me,” Bast said, shaking her head. “Please ... you must stay here and allow us to finish your training."

  "How long will that take?” Jaz asked suspiciously. The last thing she wanted to do was get stuck on some rock for the next ten years.

  The goddess shrugged. “A year, perhaps two."

  Only a year? I can do a year. I could even do two, if I had no other choice. She sighed. “So what would this training be like?"

  Bast smiled slyly. “I'm not sure yet. We'll figure that once I know what skills you already have. For now, finish your breakfast and feel free to use the facilities located through that door over there. When you're finished just put on the robe you'll find in there and meet us outside on the green."

  On the green? Sounds like a golf course. “Okay. Will do."

  Bast unfolded herself from the chair and glided to the door, where she paused, glancing back at Jaz. She started to say something, thought better of it, and slipped through the doorway without another word.

  Strange little woman, Jaz thought. Of course, when you get right down to it, strangeness seems to be a common theme for all the immortals.

  Including me, she admitted silently.

  She made it halfway to the bathroom before Quickfingers materialized. She should have expected it but it still startled her. “Hey, boss! Nice place. Boss lady seems a little weird, though."

  "Huh. Well, I suppose you'd know weird when you saw it."

  He grinned. “Very friendly village they have down there."

  "Down where?"

  "Oh ... this manse is on a hill. The village proper is about a hundred feet below us. I could take you down there if you want."

  "No, thanks. I'm going to see about getting a bath and then I'm going to wander outside and hear what Bast has to say."

  "Sheesh. Okay. I can tell when I'm not wanted.” With a broad wink, he faded once more from view.

  She snorted. “Pain in the ass."

  He reappeared for a second, long enough to stick his tongue out at her and blow a raspberry before vanishing again.

  My life is completely insane, she decided. No one else had problems like these. Stuck
on an island no one else knew about, offered training by the Egyptian Cat Goddess, and her most loyal companion was a pudgy blue magical construct with a flippant attitude.

  Just business as usual. I should've got a dog. But then she thought of those para-dogs Loki had engineered and shuddered. Maybe not.

  She had the feeling Bast wasn't telling her everything, but as long as nothing questionable came up during the training, she'd let that pass for now. It wasn't easy for her to trust anyone, but she found something comforting in Bast's superficial resemblance to her mother. At least that was what she hoped it was, Freudian as it might be.

  I can do this, she told herself, while standing under the spray of a completely modern shower, feeling the tension she hadn't even recognized sloughing from her body like flakes of dead skin.

  She emerged ten minutes later, smelling faintly of jasmine and lavender, wrapped in a soft white robe, feeling alert and rejuvenated. She walked out the door onto the elevated porch and stared in amazement down at the lush garden spread out in front of her.

  The smell of roses and other, unfamiliar, fragrances wafted up to her and she found herself smiling. Maybe she'd found paradise after all.

  * * * *

  Six weeks later she wasn't so certain. She felt like a Marine recruit at boot camp. Up at five for exercise in the training ground outside the village, breakfast at six, and three hours afterward learning every last little detail about the nature of mana and the incredible variety of things that could be done with a simple mana effect.

  She'd been expecting Bast to do the teaching, but she found herself, instead, faced with a wizened old woman with a sharp tongue and a rattan cane she had no compunctions about using if she thought Jaz was lacking in discipline or focus. Ordinarily Jaz would never have put up with being smacked for saying the wrong thing, but she could hardly justify beating up an old lady.

  The woman's name was Tome, and, like her name suggested, she was indeed a font of information. She spoke in parables half the time, but Jaz quickly figured out the pattern to her thoughts and dissertations. She was a deeply religious woman, awed and honored by the fact that her goddess chose to live among them. But she was also very intelligent, and amazingly aware of the nature of the world outside the manufactured walls of their little utopian isle.