by Stuart Jaffe
Malja dove to the ground, rolled to her right, straight over a dead soldier, and pulled him atop. Not the best shield, but all she had at the moment.
The guns cracked overhead. She kept waiting to feel the pounding strikes against the corpse, but that never happened. Instead, she watched as the guard stood over the little girl and spun both blades in a manner that Malja’s trained eye could tell was defined but complex. Sparks flew off the blades as he protected her from each shot.
When the barrage of gunfire ceased, Malja wasted no more time. She tossed aside her corpse shield and rolled to her feet. Holding Viper low, ready to strike upward, she charged ahead. With one army ready to kill the prize so nobody could have the girl, Malja expected the others to either make a final push or do the same as their insane opponents.
“Not today,” she growled.
Seeing her rapid approach, the guard stepped forward. His eyes shifted from one army to the next. Malja understood that look — he had calculated the reload times as well. They both knew they had twenty seconds to fight this out.
As she entered the strike zone, she performed one of her favorite and most effective moves. Instead of slicing upward as one would expect from Viper’s position, Malja pivoted to her left, bringing Viper up and around so that the blade struck from above and behind. The guard, however, reacted well.
He pivoted with her, crouching as he moved, and brought up one of his scimitars to block. Malja followed with a flurry of blows, but the guard blocked each one displaying expert control. If not for the soldiers reloading their guns, Malja would have happily acknowledged this man’s skill and taken pleasure in their fight. With time against her, she attempted to bully her way through. But sheer force could not break his defense. Wherever she attacked, his blades blocked.
She paused a moment, trying to see a way through to the girl. The guard had a large, muscular face that sported a thick mustache which curved down to his jaw. His eyes were kept open, taking in every possible threat. Malja knew that look well — whatever she tried, he would either block or die blocking.
“We’re out of time,” she said.
He backed up towards the girl. “You are. But I go nowhere.”
“I don’t want to hurt her. I’m trying to save her.”
“So they all say.”
Malja shot a glance at each army. Several soldiers had reloaded and were lining up their shots, waiting for the others to be ready and the command to fire.
The guard spun his blades, preparing to use his whirling maneuver again. “You best find another dead man to protect you.”
“They didn’t shoot at me last time.”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t change their minds.”
An idea flashed in her head, and with a practiced motion, she sheathed Viper. Walking forward, she opened her arms. “I won’t harm you or her. I truly want only to stop whatever these fools want in hurting her.”
“They don’t want to hurt her. They want her alive.”
“The one leader said —”
“Posturing. They’d never harm her.”
“Come with me. Both of you. You can still protect her, but let me take her away from here.”
“But she must be here. She is to go to the Temple at the top of Castel Dovell.”
Malja stepped on the litter. The guard couldn’t stop her. If he did so, he would be leaving the girl exposed to the impending volley of gunfire.
“Stop,” he said. “Come no closer.”
She took three more steps. Then she halted, closed her eyes, and concentrated on her do-kha. She had never been properly trained in communicating with the suit — no schooling like Harskill had — but she had been practicing of late. While she could not create a portal, she did know how to make the do-kha expand. And that was exactly what she did.
The black suit stretched outward from both sides. It created a wall around the guard and the girl. Then Malja willed the do-kha to harden. It was easier when she didn’t have to think about it — when the do-kha reacted off of her instincts. Or perhaps it reacted on its own instincts. But making it act in a specific manner was difficult. Her head throbbed as if hungover as she kept picturing what she wanted her suit to do.
“Aim and fire!” the leaders commanded.
She heard the crackle of rifles and felt the bullets smack against her do-kha, but it held. No bullets broke through. A second volley came. These struck her in the back and on the sides. It felt as if a heavyweight fighter swung a metal pipe into her. There would be bruising, but her bones remained intact, and most importantly, the little girl survived.
“Reload!”
With sweat dribbling down her face, Malja lowered her arms and her do-kha returned to its normal form-fitting shape. Her long coat bore several holes from bullets and a tear from the expanding of the do-kha.
The guard looked upon her as if he had never seen a woman before. “You saved us?”
“Not yet. We’ve got to get to safety. When they charge us —”
“They won’t. Neither side is brave enough for that. They only hope to kill off each other and me. Then the victor will claim the Artisoll without effort.”
Malja crouched near the girl. “Is that your name? Artisoll?”
The guard stared at her oddly. “You don’t know the Artisoll? Where do you come from?”
Ignoring the guard, Malja offered a smile to the girl but got no reaction. “It’s okay. I once took care of a boy who didn’t like to talk either.” Malja glanced at the shattered window she had jumped out of. Harskill and Abrazkia watched like two ghosts haunting the location of their horrible deaths.
“Time to go,” she said. She reached out to grab the girl when the guard slapped her hand away.
“You must not touch her. Only I can do so.”
“Fine. Then pick her up and let’s go.”
“Where? The street is blocked.”
Shaking her head, she pointed toward the woods and distant mountains.
The guard shook his head. “We cannot take the Artisoll into the wild.”
“Reloading time is almost done. You want to stay here?”
The guard looked at the mountains, then turned his gaze up and down the street. With a defeated sigh, he bent down and whispered into the girl’s ear. She smiled at him and climbed onto his back. Laying her head on his shoulder, her smile disappeared and she became her stoic self once more.
Malja ran off the street and into the forest. A shocked gasp burst from behind. Then an angry roar.
“Get them!” one of the leaders said.
Malja dared to glance back for only a second — enough to see the guard huffing along behind her, and further in the distance, a maroon soldier and a blue soldier in pursuit. Each one sat astride a gray-and-white lizard-beast with tufts of hair. The creatures had no trouble maneuvering through the trees, sometimes opting to jump from trunk to trunk, gaining height as they went. It would be difficult to hide when their enemy could watch from above.
Malja stopped and pulled out Viper. “Keep running,” she said to the guard.
The beasts continued to approach, the blue soldier’s one edging ahead of the maroon. At least that made choosing who to attack easier. Malja charged toward the blue soldier.
A surprised look opened on the soldier, and he yanked the beast’s reins, guiding it up the side of a tree trunk. He had poor timing, though. He had allowed Malja to get in too close.
As the beast jumped to her left, she pushed off the ground to her right. Her foot dug into the nearest tree and she pushed off again, higher and straight for the blue soldier and his beast. With a growl, she swung Viper at the soldier’s head.
Now it was her turn to be surprised — the soldier ducked and Viper dug deep into the trunk. Bark kicked out as the soldier kicked his beast onward. He vaulted right by Malja and ignored her. She would have to take care of him later. The maroon soldier fast approached, and she couldn’t afford to lose her momentum or she’d be stuck hanging in a tree.
>
Holding tight to Viper, Malja swung outward, whipping her feet forward. The maroon soldier had tried to sneak by on the opposite tree, but Malja’s heels caught the soldier in the face. He tumbled off the back of his mount and fell to the forest floor. The beast ran on a few feet before stopping, confused that it no longer had a rider. Malja let her body’s motion and weight pull Viper from the tree before gravity brought her down.
The soldier rolled to his hands and knees, moaning as he attempted to stand. Malja walked straight behind him. Using Viper’s hilt, she knocked him in the back of the head — no need to kill him. He no longer was a threat.
She spun back and headed for the lizard-beast. The saddle on its back looked close enough to what she knew from riding horses. She mounted the creature, picked up the reins and gave it a light squeeze with her knees.
It stood still — breathing heavy and smelling like a marsh.
She kicked with her heels.
It turned its head enough to look at her with one large eye.
“Yeah, I don’t know what I’m doing. But if you go now, I’ll find you some nice bugs to eat.”
The beast plopped down on the ground, lowered its head, and closed it eyes.
Malja shook her head as she dismounted. The blue soldier might have reached the girl and the guard. She had no more time to spare. Sheathing Viper on her back, she sprinted into the woods.
Less than a minute later, she heard the guard call out. “Over here.”
He stood off to her left, and when she reached him, she found the blue soldier and his beast slain by two precise and effective slashes. The little girl sat on a fallen log, her face blank as she looked at the trees.
“Did you get the other one?” the guard asked.
Malja nodded. “There’ll be more coming, though.”
“Naturally.” The guard pointed ahead. “There’s a creek over that way. We should follow it deeper into the mountains. The water will help hide our scent.”
“Those things can follow a scent?”
“They’re called rogwells, and yes, they can.” The clatter of numerous soldiers charging through the woods reached them. “Let’s go.”
The guard picked up the little girl and hurried further on. Malja followed.
Chapter 3
For a short time, Malja only heard her own hard breathing and that of the guard. The trickle of water down the creek, the rustle of wind through the trees, even the charming songs of animals living in the forest — none of it penetrated Malja’s consciousness. The way forward consumed her as she pushed all her energy into her legs.
When snow began to dot the ground, the guard stopped. Exhaling a fine mist, he surveyed the area and waited for Malja to finish the last few feet. She waved him onward but he remained.
“Listen,” he said.
After a cleansing deep breath, Malja closed her eyes and focused on her ears. She heard it right away. “They’re fighting themselves.”
“Three armies all seeking the Artisoll — of course they’ll fight each other. But they’re still moving towards us. Even if one side prevails, we still have that army to be concerned with.”
“This is all about her, right? And you were part of a group transporting her somewhere. So, where does she belong?”
The guard stroked his mustache. “I don’t know exactly. But that’s my dilemma. I thank you for your aid, though I’m not sure you haven’t made the situation worse.”
“You may not know where to go with her, but I guarantee we don’t want to stop here.” Malja trudged by the guard and the girl.
“No.” The guard crossed the creek. “This way. I’m fairly sure there are caves around the other side of the mountain. We can hide there while the armies continue along the creek.”
“What about our scents?”
“It’s a risk, I admit. But I think we should take it.” He turned his back to Malja. “You don’t have to follow me. I’m only telling you where I’m going because you helped us.”
“No need to be bratty.” Malja jogged back and crossed the creek. Together, they headed perpendicular to the creek and climbed around the mountain.
Each step brought them higher, and every few minutes, Malja swore she could feel the temperature drop several degrees. Soon, snow covered the ground. Only a few gray rocks and brave saplings poked out of the white cold. Malja’s do-kha would have warmed her body but the strenuous hike did that well enough alone.
“Here,” the guard said and pointed to the side.
It was perfect. Only a few feet away, and Malja could barely tell that a cave entrance was there. She bent down and scuttled inside.
The moist air smelled fresh and full of life. The guard tapped a metal disc, and light burst upward to the ceiling. This first chamber had been used before. The wall near the entrance bore scorch marks from old fires. Though not uncomfortably small, Malja remembered camping in tents that were larger. At the back end, a corridor went off into darkness.
“You have a name? I’m Malja.”
“Most call me Stray.”
“And this little one? She’s called the Artisoll?”
The girl snuggled against Stray — not out of fear or concern but simply the way a little girl might curl up against a parent when she wanted to sleep. “That’s right,” he said, and rested his head back against the cave wall. Malja waited for a further response, but when she saw that nothing more would be coming, she sat opposite them and closed her eyes.
An hour drifted by. She spent her time listening. Three groups of fighting soldiers made a lot of noise, and she had no trouble hearing them rush forward, stop to argue, exchange fire, and rush forward again. She knew when they had discovered the dazed soldier and later the dead soldier and his equally dead rogwell. She followed their path clearly as their thumping footfalls muted when they hit the snow. She took note when they receded in the distance, following the creek away from the direction of the cave.
“Looks like we’re safe for now.”
Stray cracked open an eye. “For now.”
“Can I get a fire going yet or will they come back this way?”
“As long as we keep listening, we can get a fire going.”
Malja picked up what little bits of wood she could find. Others who had stayed in the cave had picked it fairly clean, but she found some. She also discovered a small pile of wood next to the scorched area. Nothing significant, but enough to get them through the night. If their stay lasted any longer, she’d have to take a trip outside to get more wood.
Patting down her long coat, she found an old flint in the top pocket. She hadn’t used it in a long time. Tommy always started the fires with his magic.
She missed him. The little waif she had saved from slavery and reared by her side. They had endured a lot together. She would not be alive, if he had not been with her. She liked to think the opposite was true, as well, but sometimes she wondered — if she had left him with some nice family, he would never have encountered the violent world she lived in. Yet he had grown into a fine young man. And a powerful magician.
Malja stifled a laugh. If she had been told that one day she might look upon anybody with pride at being a magician, she would never have believed it. But she couldn’t deny her feelings toward Tommy. He had proven more than once that magicians could be responsible with their abilities, that they did not all lose their minds from using their magic. At least, he had yet to lose his mind. While she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that every time he used his magic, part of her wondered if the destructive insanity which had plagued so many magicians, including the two who had stolen and raised her, would suddenly break forth. But it had yet to happen. In fact, each instance of magic seemed to make Tommy stronger and more of a decent person.
She had to strike the flint four times before the sparks took to the kindling, but soon after, she had an acceptable fire going. The little girl, the Artisoll, slipped away from Stray and put her hands out to warm them. Her face remained col
d as ever.
“I need some answers,” Malja said. “What’s so important about her?”
Stray kept his eyes on the Artisoll. “Everything.”
“Let me be clear about this. I don’t like cryptic answers and I don’t like risking my life without knowing the reasons behind the risk.”
“You were never asked to risk your life.”
“Not yet. I saved her because of what I saw. Three armed forces battling over this little girl and only you left standing to defend her. But now she’s safe and she still has you to protect her. So, if I’m going to continue to help —”
“We did not ask for your help.” Stray crossed his arms and his muscles bulged. “And I’m not sure what you have done should be considered help.”
“They were trying to kill her.”
“Nobody wanted to kill her. Not until you stepped in and threatened to disrupt things. Which you’ve now done.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That is clear enough.”
Malja clamped down her anger. She thought of Fawbry and the way he could charm people with his words rather than beating the truth out of them. “Perhaps you could explain this to me so I stop sounding like a fool.”
Stray could not hide his surprise. “You really don’t understand? How can that be? How could you not know the Artisoll or that the Queen has been killed and what that means?”
“I’m not from here.”
“Here, there, it matters not. There isn’t a country on all the world that does not know.”
“There are more worlds than you could imagine.”
Stray’s surprise turned to stunned silence. His bottom lip quivered. “Are you a demon? I saw you spread your wings to deflect the bullets. Were you born in the underworld?” His eyes darted to the Artisoll as his hands inched towards his weapons.
“I am a traveler. Nothing more. I don’t have wings. Just a very special piece of clothing. You have nothing to fear with me — provided you don’t act rashly with those swords. I truly only want to help the girl.”
Stray appeared to weigh out what he heard and saw. He inched back, resting his hands in his lap. “If you are as you say you are, then you have stumbled into a situation you may wish to travel away from.”
