The Way of the Blade (11 page)

Every bit of glass exploded outward. The window, the sconces, the decorations, the special dishes — all of it shattered and sent shards into the air. People screamed as they received cuts and slices.

He floated toward Malja but kept higher in the air than his dead companions. As Malja rose to her feet, Ten Snakes leaned forward. Recognition clouded his face as if she was a dark omen.

“Do-kha,” he said, his jaw jutting out, his chin lifting up.

“You know this?” Malja said, pulling on her do-kha. “You know Harskill?”

But Ten Snakes backed away, turned, and flew off like a cloud caught in a strong wind. Before he was out of sight, Malja had moved on. She ran to Tommy’s side.

She looked over his chest and arms, but he pushed her away. He kept his head low and wiped at his eyes. “Don’t be upset. You did a good job.” He shook his head. “You did. Look at all the people coming out of that farmhouse. They’re alive because of you.”

Tommy peeked over his shoulder. The guests filed out, bloody and shaken but all of them alive.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s help them some more.”

Tommy hid his smile, yet he nodded.

But an anguished cry took over. They looked to the ceremonial circle. Javery had fallen to his knees. In his arms, he held Soralia, his sister. Her dead eyes gazed at the sky.

Chapter 10

Javery

Javery’s brain could not put the pieces together. His sister, his Soralia, his Si-Si — she rested in his arms, yet she did not move. She did not cry. She did not breathe. Her eyes had glazed over like a limp doll in his shaking hands.

Only when his throat ached did he understand that he had been wailing. Only when his tears dried did he see that all the guests had formed a wide circle around him.

Father reached down and stroked Soralia’s hair. His fingers trembled and tears soaked his face. Javery had never seen the man look so old. Broken. Mother stood stoic and hard but sickly pale, too.

He lost track of time again. Somehow he had been moved from Soralia’s side. He sat on a chair a short distance away. Canto and others, openly weeping, dug a grave next to where she had died. They placed her inside, and one by one, all the guests dropped flowers upon her. Her wedding flowers.

Druzane sat next to him, one arm around his shoulder, a hand on his arm. She stayed by his side, offering her warmth, her love, her sympathy. He lifted her chin. “You’re good to me.”

She wiped a tear from his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you. Take your time. When you’re ready to speak, you let me know.”

“Speak?”

“You’ve got to make a speech. Whenever a tragedy occurs, leaders speak to the people, help them through the pain, rally them toward whatever cause is needed. I know you’re grieving, it’s horrible what has happened, but you can’t back away from your opportunities. Not if you want to rule over this country.”

Javery covered his face. How could Druzane ask such a thing? Surely, nobody expected him to make a speech. Not now.

As Canto and his helpers covered the grave, Malja stepped forward. Her grim mouth and fierce eyes forced everyone’s attention.

“I know you’re sad and scared, but you must not dwell any longer in your mourning. You must prepare. An attack like this is never a lone event. This is only the start. A test to see what you’re capable of. In a sense, these Scarites were the opening salvo.”

Druzane whispered in Javery’s ear, her breath warm and pleasant on his skin. “Listen to her. She’s talking to your people. Do you see now? This is the moment to seize for us.”

Javery raised his head, focusing closer on Malja and the reactions of the crowd. Had this been Druzane’s plan all along? He turned to her and saw the eagerness bouncing in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I never meant for anyone to be hurt. I certainly never wanted anyone killed. I just wanted to —”

“To force Malja to save us.”

“Exactly.”

A ruthless plan, one that he would never have dreamed up, but one that proved effective. And if he handled his part well, if he spoke from his heart and galvanized this group, they might be able to save a lot of his people. He pulled Druzane close, held her tight, and kissed her ear. “You did well. You’re the perfect woman for me.”

The circle of people around Soralia’s grave remained together while Shual knelt by the mound of dirt and cried. Javery watched their faces. They were conflicted by what Malja said — still mourning the loss of one while secretly celebrating their own survival, yet now contemplating a rising enemy. A few guests shifted about. One scrawny man nudged his wife, but she threw him a stern look.

They won’t stay much longer.
Rubbing the last of his tears away, Javery strode towards the center of the circle. As he pressed through the guests, ready to do as Druzane had wisely advised, he heard the deep voice of Canto.

“You all know me well.” Canto stood exactly where Javery had intended to be. “And you all know that while today has been a shock to you, it has been a monumental tragedy for me and Shual. My bride, his daughter, taken away when she should have been dancing.” Shual burst into tears, falling into the arms of his wife. Canto’s voice cracked. “It would be easy to let these sorrows ground us, to lock ourselves away where only the insects and wellspikers could find us, to never fly again. But that is a fearful way. That is not our way, is it?”

A handful of people responded with a timid
No
.

“When Harskill gave the snake-magic to the Scarites, we didn’t fall apart. We fought back. We cut off their food, and we made them pay dearly for every horror they inflicted upon us. Generations have battled the Scarites and managed to hold them off.”

“But we’re not fighters anymore,” a woman said, abrasions from the shattered glass dappling her forehead.

A man with bruises on his cheek added, “Even if we were, we don’t have the weapons. We settled into a life of farming as long as they left us alone.”

“And you can see that they have not left us alone.” Canto dropped his shoulders, making him less imposing. A calculated move. “I know how scared you are. We’ve all just been through a trauma, and we’ve lost a shining jewel. But we cannot back down. And we don’t have to. With us is a new weapon, a strong warrior that can defeat our enemy, a new chance to end this quiet war.”

I’ve completely underestimated this power-hungry monster.
Javery scowled as the people around him fell under Canto’s sway.

Stretching his hand out in Malja’s direction, Canto said, “You have been sent to us by the gods. Pali wants you to join us, wants you to strengthen the Carsites, so that we are not destroyed by the hatred of the Scarites.”

Javery could feel Druzane’s fiery stare burning his back. As Malja stepped forward, he moved closer to the circle. He could still salvage this, turn the success into his own. But he saw a glimmer in her eye — she was going to say yes. He felt it deep within. He crossed his arms and settled back with the crowd.

Malja clasped Canto’s hand. “I cannot let the vulgarity that Harskill has brought to your world continue. He was wrong for what he did, and he must be punished. I know now that is why I am here. I will fight for you.”

Fawbry raised Tommy’s hand in the air. “We will all fight for you.”

The crowd burst into applause and cheers. Javery forced his hands to clap a few times while Canto beamed at the adulation. During this rousing commotion, Shual walked to Canto. The noise petered out.

Red eyed and bearing tear tracks down his face, Shual bowed to Malja and rested his hand on his stomach. She returned the gesture. Javery heard a gasp from someone behind him — a god had just bowed to Shual.

Clouds parted as the sun lowered to the horizon, and in the golden light, Shual noticed Javery and nodded. Javery nearly passed out. To be recognized at this moment, to be worthy of acknowledgment without forcing it, had been something foreign to him.

Shual went even further. “My son,” he said. “Everyone, Javery is a man we can use to help us in this fight.” Javery swallowed back his smiles. “We will need all of you to support this effort or else we will all fall. That’s how we drew the Scarites to stalemate before; that’s how we will do it again. But I am not the one to lead you anymore.”

Shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd. None, however, could match the shock that rattled Javery.

Shual continued, “I have lost my daughter today. My heart has nearly stopped in its pain. I must mourn. And I fear that once I truly begin, I will not be able to stop until my own passing. I am too old for war, and I am no longer fit to lead. But one of us is.”

Javery recalled the time he had planted an entire acre himself, the time he had helped design a better autofly, and the time he had first approached Father with his Waypoint system. Never did he receive the support he thought he needed. But where he once saw bitter disappointment in the man’s eyes, he now saw pride.

“This one showed calm during the chaos. More than most, he will use this day as a flame to burn down our enemies. This one has been shaped for this very day.”

It seemed so obvious in hindsight — Father had denied him each time in order to make Javery come back stronger, hungrier, more independent. Father had been molding him for the one day he would be needed.

Shual placed his hand on Canto’s shoulder. “I can think of no other to trust more to serve as our leader than you, Cantolista. And though the wedding did not complete, I hope you’ll permit me to think of you as my son.”

Canto dropped to his knees and held Shual’s hand. He kissed those aged fingers as tears fell from his eyes. The crowd broke into an enthusiastic roar.

Bile crowded Javery’s throat. To stave it off, he whirled around and trudged off into the orchard. Once he felt the cooling shadows of the trees, he bent over and wretched.

When he straightened, Druzane stood a few feet away. “Why did you let that happen?” she asked, her fingers digging into her sides.

“I didn’t let it happen. It just did.”

“That was your moment. How could you watch your stupid father give away everything and you do nothing to stop it?”

“I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“But —”

Javery grabbed Druzane’s wrist and twisted it hard. She yelped as he pressed down hard enough to send her to her knees. The sound echoed in his head with a pleasant ring. “I know what you wanted. And that’s fine. Power is the one way to guarantee that things are done the right way. Sometimes, letting others take credit gives you more power. You don’t have to smash through every wall. If you understood that, my sister might still be alive. So, I was fine with Canto giving his speech and getting Malja to join the Carsites. That was the goal. Get her on our side and protect our people.”

“You’re wrong,” Druzane said, her face pinched. “We were supposed to —”

“It’s Father who went too far.” He thrust her away. As she rubbed her wrist, he said, “We could have handled Canto with ease. He would have made a good leader of our army. But to make him leader of the people — that cannot be allowed.”

“You’re right. He has betrayed you.”

He heard Druzane’s eagerness as if she spoke from the surface — far below and obscured by the wind. The taste of vomit coated his tongue. He tapped his head as he thought. Panting, he said, “We can still control this. A war is coming. Leadership will be needed on many levels. I’ve already positioned myself as Malja’s main connection. I’m the one that saved her in the first place.”

Helping Druzane to her feet, he went on, “This won’t be as easy, but we’ll get there. You’ve shown me what a great woman can do. Now, my love, let me show you what a great man can do.” Though she still looked bitter from the way he had treated her, she did not fight him when he pulled her close and smothered her lips with his own.

Chapter 11

Malja

Two weeks passed without incident. As Malja, with Javery in tow, inspected the progress of the Carsites, that fact kept blazing in her mind. Two weeks. Why haven’t the Scarites attacked?

She walked on the surface, noting the trenches dug around the perimeter of the town and the various defensive walls built at key locations. None of it could stop a creature with the ability to fly, but she had limited information about her enemy and didn’t want to be caught prepared entirely for a flying, snake magician when they might have ground troops as well. Trench digging also took longer and used up a lot of energy. After two weeks, she had to find ways for the people to release. If not, they would either destroy themselves over a petty dispute, or worse, they might give up.

Could that be why Harskill held his army back? Trying to defeat his enemy by waiting them out?

“Ms. Malja, over here. Ms. Malja.” Hirasa approached carrying four long-barreled rifles. She and the other young women had become some of Malja’s most reliable workers. Fawbry enjoyed this fact immensely. “We found the old cache of arms. These ones look like they’re in the best condition, but we don’t know much about guns. Are they any good?”