The Way of the Blade (25 page)

“Exactly.”

“But why haven’t you come back before now?”

“The Scarites have never posed such a threat as what you’ve told us. And we’ve kept praying to Carsite that a peaceful solution could be found. This ship — this is really our failure.”

A commotion broke out amongst the men near the stern. Malja noticed they all pointed to the sky. At first, she saw nothing, but Tommy seemed agitated, so she whipped out her spyglass and looked.

An autofly approached, piloted by a young woman — one of the women who had helped Malja on her first day in the town. Tonirry was her name. As she came closer, Malja could make out her face — stressed, on the verge of screaming mad, perhaps.

By the time Tonirry landed, everyone had gathered together to greet her. When she stepped off the autofly, her bloodied face and torn clothing chilled the mood. Canto pressed through the crowd. “What happened to you?”

“The Scarites,” she said, choking each word. “They attacked.” As the shock settled over the men, Tonirry continued, “You were gone an hour, maybe two, and they came. So many of them.”

“But you’re here, now,” Canto said. “So, you fought them off.”

Tonirry held herself and shook. “Raxholden is gone. They killed everyone they found. I hid ... it doesn’t matter where I hid. I survived. And I came to warn you. The Scarites have a huge army. They’re going to kill us all.”

With a motion from Canto, two men escorted Tonirry away. Nobody else moved. They stared at the ground or their hands, a few wiped back tears, but nobody moved. Even Canto seemed unsure.

Malja sighed. Everything always landed on her. Raising her voice to its strongest command level, she said, “Back to work. All of you. Double your efforts. If you want any hope of getting your town back, of saving your loved ones, we need this warship. Move!”

Canto snapped to life. “She’s right. Let’s get working.”

As he threw orders around, Malja walked off several paces, pulling Fawbry and Tommy with her. “This is my fault,” she said.

“Why, by Kryssta, would you even think that?” Fawbry said. “Because we weren’t there to be cut down with the rest of them?”

“Because I went to the Scarite country, and I saw their army. After I left, Harskill had no choice but to attack. The previous skirmishes were simply poking at us to see our reaction and if there were any weakness to exploit. If I hadn’t seen that army, they may have continued poking for a long time. But after I was there, he had to attack or risk letting us build up enough defenses to hold him off.”

Fawbry rubbed his neck. “Oh. Yeah, I think this one’s your fault, too.”

She grabbed him by the chin, hard enough to make him groan, before Tommy pushed her back. He smacked his hands on the ground, shoved one under the other, and rushed through several more motions. Then he looked from Malja to Fawbry.

“One more time,” Fawbry said while rubbing his jaw.

Malja watched closer. Tommy made a motion of lifting his flat hand from the ground — a symbol they had started using for the portals. From there, the rest of the message was simple. As was Malja’s answer.

“No.”

Fawbry asked, “Can you even do that? Open a portal to a specific location in this world? I mean it’s one thing to open a portal to another world, not to say that’s easy, but you’re opening it randomly — aren’t you?”

Tommy pointed to his blank arm, and as they looked at his skin, a tattoo of concentric circles appeared and then faded. He raised a finger to hold off their comments. On his skin, in the same place, a tattoo of arcing lightning appeared and then faded. A third tattoo, this one of jagged teeth in an angry mouth, appeared and then faded.

“By Kryssta,” Fawbry whispered.

Malja held the boy by his shoulders. “How many tattoos can you call up?”

Tommy put his hands together as if about to pray, then slowly pulled them apart. Further and further — until they opened up completely. Then he shook his head in the negative as he pointed to his temple, stuck his tongue to the side, and crossed his eyes.

“You don’t know you won’t go crazy,” Malja said.

With an impatient sigh, he walked a short distance away and picked up a rock. He stared at his arm. Malja wanted to shove him, break his concentration, but she feared that might do more damage than simply stopping a spell. All her knowledge of magicians never included this kind of thing. How could she possibly know what might happen?

Tommy opened his left hand, palm up, and a small blue glow appeared as if he held a tiny square of light. To Malja, it looked like a tiny portal. With his right hand, Tommy tossed the rock into the miniature portal. It sizzled when it hit. Then he pointed above Fawbry’s head. They all looked, even Fawbry. Just in time for a portal to appear and a sprinkling of pebbles to fall through, smacking him on the nose. Tommy stifled a laugh.

“Can we stop picking on me?” Fawbry said, rubbing his nose. “And why did anything get through your portal?” Tommy pinched his fingers close together. “Too small?” Fawbry said. “Not enough to burn up the whole thing. Or are you getting even stronger? Soon you won’t need Malja to protect us when going through a portal. Right?”

Malja barely heard a word he said. Her eyes were on the boy. “How long have been able to do this? How long could you control a portal, control magic like this?”

Tommy shrugged, and something about the expression on his face made Malja think he told the truth. He had no idea when this happened. Perhaps he was only discovering it himself. Considering all they had been through with Barris Mont sharing Tommy’s mind and the Bluesmen and Cole Watts, it didn’t seem that impossible.

It’s not impossible at all. I just witnessed it.

“Okay, then,” Malja said, hoping her voice sounded steady. “Tommy will create a portal, and he and I will go back to Raxholden to find out what’s going on. Fawbry, I need you to stay here and be in charge.”

“They won’t listen to me.”

“You’ll be fine. Let Canto and Krunlo lead the men as long they get that warship up and running.”

“Then what am I in charge of?”

“Making sure they bring it to us. If they try to screw us over, you sneak off and get to the town.”

“If they’re trying to screw us, they’ll lock me up or kill me when the time comes.”

“Then you better pay close attention and figure it out beforehand.”

Fawbry tried to raise another objection, but Malja trudged off to Canto. She could feel Fawbry’s frustration burning into her back, and a small part of her felt bad. She halted and concentrated on that feeling. She actually felt a weight in her chest, near her heart, at the idea that she was putting her friend, her family, into a difficult situation like this. Of course, they had been in countless difficult situations, but perhaps this wasn’t necessary. Couldn’t she take Fawbry with her? Canto and Krunlo could handle the warship and meet up with them later. Except ...

She turned back and headed straight to Fawbry. His face brightened until he saw her clearly. “I’m sorry that you have to stay,” she said. “It’s not so you can be in charge. I need you here so that I know what’s going on. All the three of us have is each other. We can’t trust the Carsites. They were going to kill you two over some apples. That’s why I need you here.”

Fawbry planted his feet and stood proud. “Thank you. I won’t fail you.”

“I know,” she said and headed off again.

When she reached Krunlo, she informed him of her plan. She and Tommy would go back to Raxholden while he and Canto would bring the warship as soon as they could get it ready.

“Don’t worry at all,” Krunlo said while the men worked around them. “We all want to get back and hurt those Scarite pieces of —”

“We’ll have it flying in a few hours,” Canto said, striding up to them at a hard pace. “All the men are worried about their families. I’ve never seen such motivation before.”

Malja watched the men for a moment. “I’m leaving Fawbry with you. He’ll act as a focal point for Tommy, so that we can portal back here with ease.”

“Portal?”

“It’s some of his magic. Just leave Fawbry alone, and we’ll be back as soon as we know what’s going on. Make sure he’s on the warship when you leave, otherwise, we won’t be able to help you.”

Krunlo nodded as he pretended to understand the nature of magic. Canto looked uneasy, but Malja thought both men had accepted enough of what she said to insure Fawbry’s safety.

Clearing his throat, Canto said, “There still is the one problem. Or did your men fix that?” He looked to Krunlo.

“What problem?” Malja asked.

Krunlo suddenly found the digging nearby to be unsatisfactory. He marched over to the men and yelled at them to work harder. When he returned, Malja kept her eyes on him until he finally said, “You have to understand that this is not really a warship. We didn’t build it for that purpose.”

“What problem?” Malja asked, pronouncing each word with greater bite.

“It’s just that, well, the guns are large weapons and have a massive recoil that can have an adverse reaction with the rest of the ship.”

Malja looked to Canto, making no effort to hide her displeasure. Sheepishly, Canto said, “If too many fire off at once, the recoil can topple the ship.”

She held her tongue for a full minute. Then, slowly, she asked, “Do the Scarites know this? Does Harskill?”

“I doubt it,” Krunlo said. “This ship is more legendary than anything they’d have firsthand knowledge of.”

“Then dig it up. And have somebody find Javery. We need his brain to fix this.”

Chapter 26

Javery

Javery picked up a wooden chair and smashed it against the stone walls. He kicked at the cot and spit on the floor. When he finished, he stood in the center of the cramped room, panting and sweating.

The Pali Witch had placed him in this dank cell, so narrow he could touch both walls by spreading his arms across, and she said, “The first step is within. Call for me when you’ve mastered this.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, but she only walked away, the tips of her antlers scraping the low ceiling.

During the first hours, he tried to be a dutiful student. He sat on the cot, closed his eyes, and looked within for an answer. But as time wore on, he came up with nothing.

Twice, he opened the cell door. Twice, he closed it back. If she caught him outside this room, she would probably refuse to teach him anything. What kind of student would he be, if he couldn’t handle her first lesson?

Except in all the stories he knew, the Pali Witch simply gave away the powers to those who asked and passed the test. And she said there was no test. There always was a price, of course — something paid for dearly later in life — and that was Javery’s expectation now. The Carsites were in danger. He had neither the time nor the desire to become a student.

He had gone through so much to be here. Why did he have to endure these games, as well? “It’s not fair.” He picked up a shattered chair leg and threw it at the wall.

After tearing apart the cell, after his panting subsided, Javery started to think again. He yanked open the door and walked briskly down the hall. He had no destination in mind. Instead, he planned to explore as much of the Witch’s home as he could, hoping to find a spell or book or some magic that he could make use of to aid his people. Find something with magic in it and get off this evil island as fast as possible — that was a good plan. Waiting around for a freakish witch to shred away one’s skin — foolish.

After about ten minutes, Javery noticed that he had not found a single book or spell. He had seen plenty of luxury — gold, diamonds, ancient woods and new silks. He saw carvings and paintings and statues of all kinds, each one a tribute to the witch’s wealth and power.

Then he entered a room that looked familiar. When he saw the small, wooden door, he remembered straight away. The door — the one the Pali Witch forbade him to enter.

He inspected the door for a trap or a warning or anything that might either hurt him or announce to the Witch what he had done. For all he could see, the door was nothing more than a door. However, the lump in his chest told him the door meant much more.

Whatever lay beyond, the Witch did not want him to see. Which gave him all the reason in the world to see it. If it turned out to be truly as dangerous as she had suggested, then he might never return. Dead or insane, he would no longer be the man that walked through the door. He would no longer see Father or Druzane — not that either of them would care. In fact, why should he hesitate? He had nothing more to lose and plenty of power to gain.

Even as he opened the door and stepped into the claustrophobic corridor, his mind pictured the look on Druzane’s face after he returned to Raxholden, defeated the Scarites, and saved all his people. The women would throw themselves at him, and the men would bow down before him. He would indulge his lust, maybe force Druzane to watch as he deflowered his adoring loves. Maybe ... if he didn’t have her executed on the spot.

The constructed stone walls ended, but the corridor continued with walls of solid rock. The downward slope on the floor grew steeper.
I’m descending deeper into the mountain.
The air grew cool, damp, and smelled of moss. Everything took on a greenish hue, but he could not tell where the light emanated from. He heard the squeaks of rats and the patter of their feet.