by Stuart Jaffe
Using an overhead arc, she brought Viper down. But the blade only struck air. White Streak had vaulted forward onto a tall gravestone. It kicked off, propelling itself backwards, and caught Malja in the chest with its extended foot. Though the kick hurt, Malja felt relieved. Had she been any slower, had the creature reacted sooner, it would have had plenty of time to whirl around and strike her with its blade-tail. Instead of a bleeding torso, however, she only had to deal with a bruised chest.
As long as she didn’t allow it to strike again.
White Streak straddled her, but before it could brain her with its armored fists, she blocked with her forearm. Using a smooth motion, her blocking arm rolled so that her hand could take control of its arm. It reacted fast, grasping her with its free hand. She did the same — and what had begun as a fight with weapons turned into a grappling match.
Each time Malja dared to break her hold for a better position, the creature countered her maneuvers. Each time the creature attempted to gain an advantage, Malja punched it hard and attempted to unseat it from atop her. But it had excellent balance, and she had to lock up its hands before it could strike her.
Its flat, obsidian face glimmered with the distant torchlight. Malja could see enough to catch the details of its twisted features — five eyes formed a circle around a sharp-toothed mouth. Rancid breath blew on her, but she maintained her self-control. If she gagged or coughed, she would lose her grip on its hands.
It leaned back, and Malja felt its tail slice into her thigh. She screamed out. It opened its mouth wide and drooled on her before leaning back again, digging into the same spot on her thigh.
“Malja?” Fawbry called out.
“We’re coming!” Hirasa said.
White Streak kicked off the ground and flipped backward through the air. It landed on its feet with enough distance to protect it from a sudden attack. Malja rolled to the side, grabbed Viper, and struggled to her feet. Her left leg sent shrill messages to her brain, which she ignored. The creature spat at her and dashed off into the dark. She tried to follow, but her leg refused to cooperate.
“Over here.” She sat against a grave and waited for the two to find her.
Her do-kha went to work on her leg, holding the wound tightly together and numbing the hot pain burning her nerves. While the assault suit could not fully heal her, past experience taught her that the wound would heal faster with the do-kha’s assistance. Even as Fawbry approached with a wave, she found she could put enough pressure on the leg to walk. Perhaps the blade had not struck as deeply as it felt.
“You okay?” Hirasa asked, coming up behind Fawbry.
“Where’s Stray?”
“He’s fine. You look like you took a hit, though.”
Fawbry patted Hirasa on the head. “As long as Malja’s standing, she’s fine. Don’t worry.”
Batting away Fawbry’s hand, Hirasa stepped in closer. “Do you need a shoulder to help you?”
Malja stood straight and took three strong steps. “As long as I’m standing, I’m fine.” She walked back toward the monument.
When they reached the circle of torches, they found Stray standing tall with both scimitars at the ready. His eyes darted about, but the twitching in his feet betrayed his angst — not fear from attack, but a need to get back to the Artisoll. Malja had seen the same itch amongst those who drank too much.
Malja bent over one creature’s body. “Trust Tommy. He’ll protect her. Besides, all ten of them followed us here.”
“Having seen you fight twice now, I trust your judgment.”
“Then why are you nervous?”
Stray pointed his blade at the dead creature to his right. “These are called trang-gaul. They come from the mountains of Dovell.”
“They’re from your world?”
“Which means your friend Harskill sent us here as a trap of sorts.”
Fawbry said, “I don’t think so. Did you get to meet Harskill for long? That man has fallen hard for Malja. He wouldn’t harm her.”
Malja raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well, he wouldn’t harm you unless you messed with his plans. But even when you’ve done that, somehow he seems to back off in one way or another.”
“Only if you consider ‘backing off’ to mean sending a giant bluesman or an entire army in my way.”
Shushing with his hands, Fawbry said, “I know, I know.”
“The only problem is that you might be right, this time.”
“Oh?”
“There was another Gate on Reo-Koll. A woman named Abrazkia.”
Stray frowned. “The woman living in the house you jumped out of? The one the Dovellians call the Mad Sorceress?”
Massaging her leg, Malja said, “I didn’t know they called her that, but yes. That woman.”
“She can do this magic door like Harskill?”
“I imagine so.”
“Then we have a larger problem.”
Before Stray could speak further, a young man and a younger woman stumbled into the area. The woman’s robe hung open to her navel and the man’s robe revealed even more. They froze at the sight of Malja and her companions.
The woman’s eyes started on Fawbry, and she fumbled a smile of recognition. Then she saw Malja and Stray and Hirasa — all the while her lips trembled. When her gazed dropped to the ground, to the nine slaughtered creatures, her eyes widened.
And she screamed.
Chapter 7
Malja had never seen Canto so angry, and she had seen him in a full rage during battle. But back then, his fire burned against a sworn enemy. He could unleash all his frustrations, filling every blow with his fury until nothing remained. But this time, his rage had to be contained, and Malja could see in his tight expression and red eyes that the effort to appear calm only made him angrier.
At the cemetery, after screaming herself mute, the young woman and her lover had raced back to town. By the time Malja and the others returned, the festival had closed down and Canto waited at the head of the main road. Malja had expected him to be upset, but this barely controlled fire surprised her. With only the flick of his finger, he commanded that they follow him. Nobody spoke.
He led them to a small shack with a red door. Before the war, this had been a guarded building — the most important building to all. This red door marked the entrance to what had been the town’s Great Well — the source of magic in this world. But the town had suffered a lot of damage. And then the Wells were destroyed.
Canto opened the door which led to a staircase. He grabbed the one torch resting on a wall stand, lit it, and climbed down. The others followed.
They lowered into an oval-shaped room with a dark hole in the center. The last time Malja had been in here, the dark hole had been filled with greenish-blue light and steam rose from its surface. Now, only the stench of mold and rot came from the empty crevasse.
Canto spread his legs in a wide, firm stance and stared into the empty well. “I asked for so little from you. A party. That was all. A chance for my people to heal a little.”
Hirasa stepped forward. “Please, listen to us.”
“Be quiet!” Canto bellowed with such force that Hirasa cowered back. “Of all people in this town, I expected better of you. You’ve always been one to look out for us, always trying to find solutions that would benefit all for years to come, always willing to fight for our lives. You knew as well as I how important this night was to us. Yet instead, you involved yourself with this trouble.”
Fawbry put his arm around Hirasa. “There’s no need to berate her. She was only trying to —”
“You should not speak either, Sheriff.” The title sounded like a curse in Canto’s mouth. “Our celebration ended with a distraught girl, fighting, and death in the air. People didn’t go home remembering the wonderful music, the grand performance, or even the pleasure of drinking. They only recall the fear of war, the sound of screams. They will wake tomorrow just as they go to bed tonight — in fear.” Canto shook
his hand as he paced the edge of the pool. “I always suspected you would be faced with an event that questioned your loyalty. But nobody can be loyal to two opposing groups. I had hoped you would have chosen to remain with us. That is clearly not what you have done.”
“You are wrong.”
Canto leveled his stare on Malja. “And you. You are most at fault here. I once thought of you as a savior to our people, but I know better now. You and all those you bring with you are a poison. We may have been trapped in a war before you came, but at least our world made sense to us.”
Malja struggled to maintain a strong voice while not sounding like a challenge. She reminded herself of the pressures of leadership and employed as much control as she could muster. “Your world would be one of genocide by now. The Carsite people were on the verge of extinction, and they didn’t even know it. With Harskill’s help, the Scarites would have slaughtered you all.”
“Maybe so. Maybe we would have defended ourselves just as successfully without you. What we never would have done, though, was destroy the only source of magic in our world. Everything we had was wiped away by you. Do you understand that? These people aren’t rebuilding the world they knew and loved. You have brought an apocalypse to us, and we are simply surviving.”
Malja’s throat went dry. Could that be true? Could she have caused something like the Devastation?
Holding out his accusing finger, Canto turned his focus toward Stray. “You. More than anyone, I want you to see this room. Here is where our most valuable, most important asset existed. This was the Great Well, and with it we were granted the energy to power our lives, to free us from the bare existence we now suffer. Malja took it away from us. And now, she dares to return and brings trouble like you with her.”
Malja said, “I’m trying to save the life of that woman.”
“She was a little girl this morning! That stinks of magic and magic is the last thing I wanted these people to be reminded of. Bad enough having Tommy around all the time, but now there’s this Artisoll thing — and the two of them are mostly seen together.” Sweat beaded on Canto’s forehead. “Worst of all, the magic you’ve introduced here has brought back violence. Had you been discrete, perhaps my people would not have known. But you had to go on a mass killing.”
“That’s not fair,” Fawbry said. “Malja went to great lengths and risked a lot to get those things away from the town. We all did.”
“You want us to throw another party in her honor?”
“I want you to stop berating and start realizing that this situation is not nearly so bad.”
“Are you insane? The entire town knows what happened — or thinks they do. I have no doubt that the story is already expanding into Malja fighting an entire horde of blood-thirsty, child-eating beasts. But one thing that will remain true no matter how outlandish this tale grows — everybody will remember that this all was because of that magic girl.”
Stray stiffened, but Canto appeared to have run out of anger. He bent over as if he might vomit into the empty well. Hirasa rushed around to his side and rubbed his back.
Malja said, “I hope you know that we never intended to bring harm to you. When I fought with you, it was only to help. While the life you have now is not as luxurious as the one before, you don’t live in fear of Scarite attacks, and you —”
Canto put out his hand. “Don’t justify yourself. Nothing will change the hardship the Carsites must now suffer. Nothing will save them from the ravages of losing their magic. And after tonight, nothing will make them trust.” He straightened and wiped his brow. “But I can do something that will at least ease their minds for a little while. I can throw you out.”
“But you aren’t safe.”
“Not with you here. I want you gone.” He looked at Fawbry and then Hirasa. “All of you.”
Hirasa looked as if she had been slapped. “What? But this is my home.”
“No longer. I had tried to dissuade the people’s fears of Malja through this party. Hoped to remind them of the good she had done so recently. I would have gladly raised you high in their eyes as Malja’s true Carsite Lieutenant. But your association with her is now a mark against you. In the coming weeks, I will have to work hard to calm everybody, to make them understand that with Malja’s leaving, so goes the threat. That we are safe. I can’t do that with the people connected directly to her living amongst us. Even one as brave and wonderful as you. I’m sorry.”
“But I fought for you. I’ve suffered every bit as much as any Carsite.”
“This isn’t about you.”
Fawbry made a large, sweeping motion bringing his hand to his chest. “That’s right. This is politics.” He took his badge off and dropped it into the well. It sounded like a pebble as it hit the walls on its way down.
Disappointment twitched across Canto’s face like a flash of lightning. “Everybody always sees only how things relate to themselves. But my actions are not for me or my political future. I’m trying to protect the people of this town who fought bravely for you and suffered greatly for it.”
“Is that the lie you convince yourself of at night?” Hirasa said, her words more choked than accusatory.
“Enough. The decision is made. You are all to leave.”
Malja glared at Canto until he looked away. “Come everyone. Pack up your things. We must go.”
“Wait,” Fawbry said. “You can’t simply have us go nowhere.”
Canto slammed his foot into the ground causing a small explosion of dust. “Go join the Pali Witch, if you want. I don’t care. Just go.”
Waving off Hirasa’s hand, Fawbry said, “No, no. You’re banishing us, and that’s fine as far as Malja is concerned. She’s been thrown out of far better places. But what of Hirasa? What of me, your Sheriff? Are you really going to tell your town that you exiled two beloved people because they dared to help Malja fend of ruthless creatures — creatures that may have attacked the town itself if given the chance? Is that going to help you?”
“They weren’t attacking the town. You all told me they wanted your magicians.”
Fawbry shrugged. “The townspeople may not see it that way. Especially when, before I leave, I tell a few choice ears all about the battle Hirasa fought on their behalf for which you, Canto, have punished her. Let’s see. I could tell the Tilsons. They love to gossip. Who else?”
“You would threaten me?” Canto looked genuinely hurt.
“I will not allow this group to be tossed away. If you are determined to exile us, then you will do so with decency.”
“How am I to do that?”
Malja saw the twinkle in Fawbry’s eye. He had been waiting for this question, maneuvering Canto towards it all along like a fighter forcing his opponent into a mistake.
Pausing a second, acting as if he gave the matter serious thought, Fawbry then snapped his fingers as if coming upon a new idea. “The old mansion in Cafloden. Allow us to stay out there.”
“Until when? You can’t be there forever.”
“Until we figure out our next step. After all, we hadn’t planned on any of this happening.”
Canto crouched at the edge of the well. He stared into its emptiness and sighed. “You may stay there. But only for the season. When the rains come, you must leave.”
“We’ll also need horses to get out there.”
“I can’t spare —”
“The Tilsons are still awake right now. I doubt they’ll sleep much at all tonight. They probably are itching to talk with somebody — everybody.”
He glowered at Fawbry. “You may have some horses. No more requests. Leave. Now.”
Fearing Fawbry might push for even more concessions, Malja cleared her throat and jerked her head toward the stairs. With all the energy of a funeral procession, she led her group to the surface and back to their quarters.
* * * *
For Malja, Stray, and the Artisoll, packing was easy. Malja always traveled light, and the others had nothing with them at all. Tom
my put aside a few trinkets he had collected over the past months with the Carsites, packed his clothes, and in minutes, sat in the Artisoll’s room watching her every move.
Fawbry took longer than the rest. When Malja entered his room, she found stacks of clothes, piles of painted rocks, and loads of wooden figures. “I have a lot of admirers,” he said, adding another wooden figure to the group.
“All of these are from the women here? It’s amazing we weren’t run out of town sooner.”
“I know how to be discreet.”
“You also know how to deal in the world of words. Thank you for that. Without you, I don’t think we’d be leaving for a comfortable home, let alone on horseback.”
“Just earning my place.” He kicked over the rocks and grabbed two days of clothes. “This is all I’ve ever needed. The rest can stay. Besides, I doubt we’ll return.”
As they walked back to Malja’s place and gathered up the group, a young woman approached. Malja recognized her right away — the jealous one at the party. Lynoya.
She ignored the eyes of everyone and moved straight to Malja. With her head lowered, she said, “Canto has ordered me to come with you.”
Malja looked to Tommy. “We weren’t told about this.”
“I’m to make sure that you stay in Cafloden unless you are leaving for good. I’m also to report back when you do leave, and if the rains come and you haven’t left, I’m to report that, too.” Lynoya lifted her head, revealing tears stained cheeks. To Tommy, she said, “I don’t have a choice. Canto’s orders.”
Tommy stared back — as silent with his face as he always was with his voice.
Before things could turn, Hirasa ushered her friend away. “Don’t worry. We understand. Let’s get you ready to go. You can ride with me.”
After several quiet seconds, Fawbry and Stray lugged the few bags they had down to the horses. Malja stepped behind Tommy and whispered, “This had better not become a problem.”
Chapter 8
