"Damn you, woman!" Naatos collapsed against the chair. He ground his teeth.
Amelia raced back to Shon and surveyed his wounds quickly. "Stay awake, stay awake." She ripped the bandages and gloves free and thrust them into the worst of his wounds. "Don't you dare die and give him the satisfaction of being right."
Shon's eyes lolled in his sockets. He struggled to breathe. "Kepsalon…powder…put on weapon."
Naatos fought to stand once more. Amelia shot him again in the leg and once more for good measure. "I can do this all day, viskare!" she shouted at him.
Naatos braced himself against the chair. His breaths hissed through his teeth. "I know how many bullets you have."
"Well good for you."
Amelia slid over to the fallen packets of powder. It was so fine she couldn't scoop it up, and most of it had scattered away. All of the packets had been torn open. She grabbed them up and peered inside. Some of the packets had small quantities left. She started consolidating them into a single packet that only had a little tearing at the top, despite most of its contents being spilled.
"And what will you do when you run out of bullets?" Naatos demanded.
"Probably resort to running and stabbing." Amelia shot him again.
"Amelia!" Naatos shouted. The muscles in his neck tightened and a vein in his forehead throbbed.
"What? Is this not how you want to kuvaste? You want to beat the snark out of me with your fists?" Amelia glanced down at the remaining six packets.
"Amelia," Shon croaked.
Amelia glanced up and then flattened as a chair flew through the air. It narrowly missed her shoulder, shattering on the marble floor. Something grated heavily on the floor.
Amelia twisted around. Naatos had seized the large table and was dragging it closer.
Could he throw that?
She shot him in the arm and then once again in the leg. He doubled over, losing his grip.
Grabbing up another of the packets, she poured another in. “I just put this in the gun? This is the sedative the Machat made? The drug?”
Shon groaned. He tried to speak, but the words were garbled. More blood had pooled around him.
"If you die on me, I'm going to be so mad at you." Amelia poured another torn packet in.
"He'll be dead before this fight is over." Naatos flexed his fingers, the muscles reconnecting and healing.
"You're already in trouble." Amelia ducked as he threw another chair. This one clipped her shoulder.
"No. You are." Naatos glared at her. "Do you know how close I can take you to death and bring you back?"
"You took me there once. Can't say I liked it, but if you want to go again, I'll go again." Amelia checked her gun. Two bullets left.
Movement caught her eye. Naatos hadn't healed fully, but he was staggering toward her. She had to get him away from Shon.
Amelia holstered her gun, seized up the remaining packets, and thrust them into the pockets of her gown as she scrambled forward. She grabbed Shon's sword and unsheathed her dagger.
"No more bullets?" Naatos twisted his spear around. "Shouldn't you have another two left?"
"I prefer not to get too repetitive." Amelia continued to circle him, keeping her steps smooth and broad. If she kept Naatos focused on her, Shon had a chance.
"Then why do you keep running from me?"
"Because cooperating with you didn't accomplish anything. You betrayed my trust again. You broke your vow!"
"What is it they say on Eiram? I heard this saying when I visited last." Naatos swiped his hand over the runes. Spiraled blades circled out from the end. "All is fair in love and war?"
"That is something we say. And we call it Earth!" Amelia adjusted her grip on Shon's sword. It was heavier than what she was used to, but she needed something to deflect that spear.
Naatos shook his head. "Some stupid earth Shivennan names it after himself and you all fall for it."
"We like it!"
"Your so-called people are dull. Both on Eiram and Reltux. They deserve to be conquered."
"Shut up! You don't get to talk about Earth that way. You don't talk about Reltux that way. You don't talk about my people that way!"
"You are more than welcome to try to stop me whenever you like, viskaro." Naatos bowed mockingly. "That is among the many things that my brothers and I will fix."
"Wrong world names! Yes, let's put that at the top of the list of problems. World stupidity. So much more important than world hunger, genocide, cancer, violations, invasions, and murder!"
"Are you going to kuvaste me or not, woman?" Naatos demanded.
Amelia charged. At the last minute she cut away, drawing Naatos farther into the large open dining room.
Naatos swung the butt of the spear around. It whooshed past her ear as she slid around the other side of the table and ran to the far end.
Naatos followed.
Amelia continued to circle the table. The room was large and open with several sturdy pieces of furniture, but there were no doors for nearly a hundred feet to the right. Even then she couldn't see any locks on those doors. There was no way to trap him someplace. She had to keep a lead on Naatos, prevent him from killing Shon, and gather up the rest of the powder. The most likely solution for that seemed to be to pour it into her gun and use it with the last two bullets. But he was so fast! Maybe the Machat had foreseen this and would get up here to help her.
Amelia rounded the table again.
"Amelia." Naatos stopped short. He was now diagonal from her at the far end of the table. He slammed his spear against it. "Do you even know how to use those blades?"
"These blades?" Amelia swung the dagger around. "I sure hope so."
"Then show me or surrender."
Obviously if he drew her into fighting him his way, he would win. Her elmis pricked with warning and tight tension. She had defeated Vorec easily, but he was a different fighter altogether. His weak points had been obvious, his protections limited despite his deadliness. Her training was enough to take down Awdawms, but through experience, she knew Naatos was entirely distinct. But if she made him fight her way…
"Make me."
Amelia tossed the sword on the table, sheathed her dagger, and bolted back toward one of the heavy couches against the wall. Jumping up onto the cushion, she launched herself on the high-backed frame. She then shoved it out from the wall, and ducked behind it. As soon as she hit the marble floor, she slithered under the couch.
Naatos swore loudly. His footsteps pounded on the floor as he raced toward her.
Amelia seized onto the leg of the couch as Naatos grabbed the couch and flung it back. She slid across the slick floor along with it and then scrambled out on the other side.
Son of a marskelpt!
He hadn't thrown her closer to the doors. She wriggled out from under the couch and tore out one of the partial packets and poured it into the good one with the solid ties.
"Amelia!" Naatos bellowed.
Amelia cast the old packet aside and pulled out another one. A few streams of the silver powder trickled out. As soon as she had a half packet full, she'd risk it. But this was cutting it too close. She scrambled away as Naatos appeared over the back of the couch. His spear jabbed down, cutting into her gown and narrowly missing her leg, yet cutting into her bullet pouch.
"Naatos!" Amelia glared at him.
Naatos ripped it back, trying to use the spirals as a hook to snag her. But the spiral blades were so sharp they sliced through the fabric. The bullets scattered across the floor.
Stumbling to her feet, Amelia raced back to the table and circled it.
"No, no, no. Not the table!" Naatos shouted.
"Who would have thought you'd hate tables so much?" Amelia grabbed the whole packet and one of the partials. She shook the velvet pouch to keep the powder at the bottom and then poured the remnants from the other in. Maybe it would be full enough if the next two packets had enough powder left.
Naatos changed directions an
d started around. The length of the table was enough that he couldn't reach her—unless he threw the spear. "You infuriating little vespyr!"
Amelia forced herself to laugh. "You should never have married me. You're going to curse this day." She grabbed another of the broken packets.
Lunging forward, Naatos seized the table and flung it. It sailed over Amelia's head and crashed into the wall. It landed at the fireplace within twenty feet of Shon.
Well, if anything seemed like cheating…
Amelia bolted back toward the table. She skated around the couch and then ducked behind the table. Seizing the table, she pulled it along with her as she backed into the fireplace. The fireplace itself was so large that she could have easily laid down without her head or feet touching the stone walls lengthwise. Widthwise it was only a little over three feet. Deep ridges where the stones had been mortared together provided easy hand and footholds. Amelia climbed.
Naatos shouted at her again. "Do you really think this is doing any good? How much longer can you keep this up?"
Hopefully only for a few minutes more. Amelia shifted herself around so that she was now facing the shortest point of the chimney and braced her back and legs against it. She then pulled out the packets and resumed pouring. Less than half a packet full now. But this was the last play she had.
The table banged backward. Naatos thrust his head into the fireplace. "So this is your plan?"
"My plan is to defeat you. Capture you. Stop you and your brothers."
Amelia unholstered her gun. She poured the silver powder into the mouth of the gun, tore off a bit of cloth, and then thrust the cloth into the mouth of the gun. If she tried to shoot down, the powder would pour out without guarantee of striking Naatos. If she wanted full impact, she needed to be close. "And if that doesn't work, I'll come up with another plan."
Naatos grabbed her bare leg. "That second plan had better involve you surrendering."
Amelia hesitated. His grip on her leg tightened. One good yank and he could rip her right down. Apparently she wasn't as high up as she hoped. If he pulled her out, she might lose her grip on the gun. "So…you want me to climb down? Or…"
"You're going to drop down, and I'm going to catch you." Naatos's thumb moved around her ankle, the pressure not so sharp now.
"What else do you want?" He might drop her intentionally, Amelia thought. He might also restrain her. But if she was quick, she might be able to work it to her advantage. Her heart raced faster. The cold had receded. She wasn't sure when that happened. "I don't know that I want you touching me when you're angry." She didn't particularly want him touching her at any time, but he already knew that.
"Then drop down, or I will rip you out."
Amelia closed her eyes. "All right. On three. One. Two. Three."
The gun clutched close but pointed away from herself, Amelia dropped. The falling sensation seemed to last much longer than it should. Her gown rustled and crumpled as she fell into Naatos's arms. He caught her and pulled her against his chest, ducking his head to avoid striking it on the lip of the fireplace. His arms were tight around her, but the hold he had her in was strange. His right hand gripped the back of her neck and skull, keeping her head at an awkward angle.
"This has been an ordeal that should never have existed," Naatos said as he straightened. "I'm glad you've seen sense."
"I never said I surrendered." Amelia thrust the muzzle of the gun directly against his chest.
Naatos sighed, annoyed. "You only have two bullets."
"I have the Machat powder in there now." Amelia stared straight into his eyes, avoiding sliding into his pupils. "Two bullets will be enough. Unless you want to surrender now. I won't mock you or abuse you."
"Amelia…this isn't going to kill me. And this isn't going to work. That powder is nothing more than the leftovers of that potion the Machat made up and a buffer. That's why there were so many more. They were surrounding a black jar that contained the lightning mixture that incapacitated us before."
Amelia cocked the gun. "I'm willing to take that chance."
"Even if it works, I won't let go. When I fall, I will pin you, and I will heal before you can escape. And you will accomplish nothing more than angering me."
Gritting her teeth, Amelia shook her head. "You won't win." She squeezed the trigger. Once. Twice.
Naatos grunted with pain. He staggered forward. Hot blood pulsed out from the wounds. The crack of the gunshot echoed in Amelia's ears. This time it stung her. Her stomach twisted with bile and vomit, and tears stung her eyes.
"You won't win either." Naatos blinked several times. He dropped to his knees, his grip on her still tight. He slumped to the floor, pinning her, his hand on the back of her head.
A strangled sob broke from Amelia's mouth. Hot guilt and shared pain seeped into her like the blood pouring out of the double gunshot wounds. Already the red gushes were slowing, but Amelia hated herself.
She choked on the tears and thrashed to free herself. His fingers remained locked against the back of her skull. "Shon." She pushed Naatos back, at last breaking free. "Shon, I'm going for help."
Staggering forward, she ran to Shon's side. He was wheezing slower now, his eyes half-closed. "Hang on. Just hang on. I did it." Amelia wiped the tears from her face, then realized her hands were covered in blood. She bit her lip. "It's going to be all right, Shon."
He nodded, the motion as faint as the moan that escaped his lips.
Amelia stood. She had to get a grip on herself. Her wedding gown was covered in Naatos's blood. It was turning cold as it seeped against her. She needed help. Who knew how long the powder would last?
She made her way back to Naatos. He was sprawled out on the marble floor. The wounds were closing slowly, the pulses of blood almost gone. Sniffing, Amelia took her dagger and cut off pieces of her gown. She tied him up with triple knots, removed his hunting knife, and took his spear. Then, head spinning and stomach clenching, she ran back into the hall to the balcony.
Down below Machat and Ayamin hurried about. AaQar had been captured. He lay on his back, black ropes binding him in place. An unexpected sensation lurched in Amelia's stomach, and she looked away. She couldn't hear WroOth anymore either.
"Hello!" she shouted, her voice hoarse. "Please, someone, I need help up here. Please! I've got Naatos restrained, and Shon is badly wounded. Please hurry."
Two Ayamin and a Machat looked up at her. The Ayamin nodded and commanded five to go up and assist her. The Machat was already heading toward the stairs.
Amelia turned. Panic spiked through her. Naatos was beside Shon now, Shon's dagger in hand. "Naatos! Get away from him."
Naatos blinked blearily, his motions heavy. "This is for the best."
"No!" Amelia ran at him.
Naatos hefted his hand up. The blade sliced through the air, and, when his hand fell, plunged into Shon's chest.
58
Sacrifice
Everything blurred in a heated haze of blood, horror, and agony. Naatos collapsed beside Shon, once more seemingly unconscious. Shon arched beneath the blade. A final gurgle of words and blood spilled from his mouth before he lapsed into unconsciousness. Amelia dropped between them, shoving Naatos away and grabbing at Shon.
"Shon, Shon!" she screamed. Blood covered her hands and her gown.
Five Machat ran into the room with black rope and glass vials. They seized Naatos by the arms and legs and dragged him to the back of the room.
"No, no. This—no. Shon, I'm sorry. Someone help, please!" Amelia grasped his hand, shaking so hard she could barely hold onto him. "Shon, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
Shon's eyes focused on her. The corner of his mouth twitched.
"Help him!" she shrieked. "He's dying."
Kepsalon crouched beside her, his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Amelia."
There were no words left. Only screams and sobs and every choked-back, thrust-away feeling she had ever had. All of the pain, all of the sorrow, all of th
e agony from the swelling, the spiders, and every other injury combined were nothing compared to this.
Amelia braced herself against the marble floor, not even daring to touch Shon now as if her touch might hurt him more.
It seemed that she was there for hours, hands and knees to the floor. She couldn't ask for his forgiveness. She couldn't fix a thing. She couldn't do anything but sob. He would not have died this way if it had not been for her.
When the tears finally slowed and she sank back on her knees, she realized Kepsalon was still there. A large cedar bowl of incense had been filled with oil, the circular soakstone lit with a fragrant flame.
"Shon is with Elonumato now," Kepsalon said. "What happened was not your fault. He chose to come here, and Naatos chose to kill him. Not you."
There was no comfort in Kepsalon's gentle words nor even in the familiar scent of fresh wood and cut stone. It did nothing to mask the blood and filth. She had cried all her tears, and now death rested in her.
Then Matthu came.
He walked into the room with slow steps, his lips tight, his fingers balled against his palms. For half a breath, he kept his composure, but when he saw his brother's body, Matthu's face twisted and reddened. He dissolved into tears, choking and sputtering the more he tried to restrain it.
Amelia ducked her head, unable to watch. Her throat burned from weeping, her lungs ached, and her chest burned. Matthu's sobs were like daggers to her own heart. And Amelia found she had more tears too.
"You weren't supposed to die," Matthu choked. He drove the heels of his hands against his eyes. "You can't die. You said you wouldn't. You can't. This is stupid! It's not supposed to be this way."
It wasn't, and there was no way to fix—
Amelia stopped short. She sat up, a memory reasserting itself. Fragile hope rose within her. "Kepsalon," she whispered.
Kepsalon refilled the jar of incense and spoke to two Machat in the back of the room. He returned to Amelia, his leather-booted feet shushing softly across the marble.
"Kepsalon," Amelia said again. She knotted her fingers in her bloodied gown.
Enemy Known Page 54
