The Way of the Sword and Gun (13 page)

Malja said nothing for a moment. Her hands gripped the table's edge, her knuckles turning white as she stared at the map with Tommy. Her lips drew in tight, until she finally shoved back, kicked a chair into the wall, and said, "Damn Kryssta! Damn Korstra! Damn it all!"

Owl started at the outburst, but he noticed that Fawbry appeared to relax. Then the strange fellow said, "Okay, then. You and Tommy should get ready. And Owl, you should go outside to meet Brother X."

"What about you?" Malja said with a touch of venom still in her voice. "You planning on finding a little nook to hide in?"

Fawbry squirmed a little. "I can do whatever you need of me. You know that."

"Then go with Owl."

"Now wait a minute. I'm just going to be a target out there."

"Your presence, having anyone by his side, will give Owl's offer of single combat an appearance of authority. Grab at least two others to go with you — one magician, one Guard. If this is going to have any chance of working, we have to make sure Brother X believes Owl speaks for the Order."

Fawbry let out a nervous chuckle. "Of course. That makes perfect sense. I knew you didn't want me fighting. I can put on a show, though. That I can do."

"Go," she snapped.

Fawbry turned to Owl. "Don't dawdle," he said, giving Owl a light push on the shoulder.

"I need my coat," Owl said.

Tommy raised his index finger. When he finished copying the map, he lifted the paper and inspected his work. Satisfied, he tossed the coat across the table.

As Owl and Fawbry climbed the stairs toward the surface, he slipped on the coat. It draped onto his body like a second skin. He thought of Chief Master and the book in the lining. And as he saw daylight ahead, he thought of Brother X and the coming battle. Maybe this would make a difference. Maybe he could earn a little forgiveness.

"Do you find it hard," Owl said, unsure of why he suddenly felt the need to speak, "to follow Malja?"

"Not anymore," Fawbry said.

"She confuses me. She is a warrior, strong and tough-minded, yet she can't accept the boy doing his part in all this. She attacks me for speaking the truth and then acts like it never happened. Is she always so difficult to understand?"

"You have no idea," Fawbry said.

When they entered the courtyard, Owl looked up at the wall. Small rock piles lined the wooden ledge running the parameter. Near the South wall, he saw a group of Guards praying. He took three steps towards them, intending to admonish them for group-prayer when everyone should know that prayer to Kryssta was meant to be done alone. Except he stopped.

He recalled the comfort he had felt when Master Kee prayed with him. Perhaps he shouldn't cause these brave men any grief right before they risk their lives for us all. It seemed that there were times for single prayer and times for a group.

"You ready?" Fawbry asked.

Nighthowl and the magician Bennet volunteered to escort them out. They were good people, though inexperienced, and Owl was pleased to see them. The anticipation on their faces, the fear, was not well hidden.

Owl tried to think of encouraging words to say, but in the end, he adjusted his coat, checked that his sword and gun were in place, and took three cleansing breaths. "Let's go," he said.

Two men, one with a blood-stained bandage wrapped around his ribs, opened the main gate just enough to let them through. Owl moved with a confident stride, but his stomach twisted inside. He could feel his chest constrict as they turned the corner to face the army.

All Owl could see was an ocean of armor and weapons. The voices melded together into a steady roar. Thousands.

His heart sank.

Thousands.

Malja

Tommy leaned against the bunker wall. Malja sat on the table, her arms propping up her head. The incessant thundering of Brother X's army was the only sound.

Malja struggled to think of another way out of this. They lacked a force large enough to fight through the sieging army, and they were using up the little defensive resources they had. Eventually, they would be overrun. At length, she simply lifted her head, and in a soft voice, she said, "I don't like this."

Tommy moved close to her and smiled as if to say, "Trust me." He took her hand and placed it on his head. She stroked his hair and fought the mounting emotions. He had grown so much in just the last year. He was almost taller than her, and though she didn't like to admit it, he had taken on that same cold expression she knew so well — the one she always wore.

"Listen to me," she said, and thank the brother gods, Tommy didn't glaze over. "When I go through that portal, I don't want you trying to be a hero. If you start to feel pain or weakness or maybe even some kind of damage to your brain — if you feel any bad effects from this magic, I want you to stop. I don't care if you strand me in that world. I've been stranded before. I'll survive."

Tommy's face contorted with horror and he shook his head.

"I'll be fine wherever I go," she said. "But if I come back here to find that doing this turned you into something other than the great young man I know you to be, I just couldn't live with that. You understand? I won't do this if it'll hurt you."

Tommy gestured upward and shrugged.

"I know there's an army up there. That's not more important." To the surprise of them both, she lifted Tommy's hand and kissed it. "Not to me. I don't know what other options we have, but if you can't make me this promise, I won't go. We'll have to think of something else."

For a moment like a brisk wind, Malja thought he would give up on this portal idea. But the same wind blew it away. Tommy ran his hand over the paper copy of the map, and Malja gulped down the last of her tears.

"Okay," she said and got to her feet. "You sit here. You shouldn't have to worry about standing when trying to deal with something this big."

Tommy agreed. He sat cross-legged on the table, laid the map over his lap, and concentrated on the circles and lines.

At first, nothing happened. Malja knew this would be the case. To conjure a portal took skill but not a lot of time. To conjure a portal to a specific location and to do it with enough care that there would be no danger of destroying the surroundings — that was a different matter.

Yet long before Malja thought it possible, Tommy's arms glowed a rusty brown. The air filled with a horrible, acrid odor. Crackling, like dry wood on a fire, erupted a few feet behind the boy.

Tommy swung his tattooed arm toward the back wall, never taking his eyes from the map. Malja planted her feet, unsure of what might happen when the portal formed. She forced her eyes forward.
Don't look at Tommy.
She didn't want to know what this was doing to him.

And the portal opened.

Malja took a quick survey of what she saw — night, a field, a withered tree off to the side, no creatures, no immediate danger. The warrior in her wanted to study this a little longer — get a feel for what she was about to do. But the more time that passed, the longer Tommy had to keep the portal open using magic.

"Check back every half-hour," she said. "I'll be there eventually."

Letting loose her war cry, Malja leaped through.

* * * *

The air was cold. Malja's breath puffed out in moist, white clouds. A sharp crackling announced the closing of the portal.

She remained still for some time. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her skin tingled as if she had been soaked in cold water and thrust into warm air. Like a snuffed candle, tendrils of smoke lifted from her body. She tried to let her well-honed senses observe the area, but her mind had difficulty grasping that she actually lived.

The only other time in her life she had experienced something like this, the Bluesmen had forced her head through a portal. That had felt weird and confusing. This was far stranger.

She lifted her feet and set them back down. Left then right. Again and again as if to make sure the ground wouldn't disappear. She inhaled — sweet, clean air with a touch of burnt wood from a fire in the distance somewhere. That meant something intelligent enough to create a fire.
Could this be my home world?

"Don't be stupid," she whispered. There were hundreds of circles on that map. The odds that this one belonged to her people was remote. Besides, she couldn't stay here long. She had to find that code before Tommy started up the portal again.

The longer she took, the more times he would have to use his magic to open the portal. She couldn't keep putting him at risk. Time to get moving.

She turned around. As expected, the portal was gone, but a large, wooden house on a wide hill had taken its place. It had three sections — the middle rose four stories high while the sections on either side only rose two. Lights inside flickered — candlelight. Silhouettes passed by the windows.

Malja crouched low in the field and slipped Viper free. She watched the house, her tensions growing. Though there appeared to be a lot of activity inside, nobody exited.

From beyond the house, she heard sporadic drumming — muted, yet fast and harsh. Keeping low, she scurried up the hill and around the house, keeping a healthy distance from the windows. Hiding behind a tree with long strips of furry bark, she saw that the hill dropped off sharply into a valley. And in the valley, there was war.

Every time she heard that distinct, rapid drumming, she saw flashes of orange light down below. Whatever kind of weapon produced that sound and that light was something Malja hoped never to be on the wrong side of. She heard terse commands demanding attention and injured bodies scream for help. A fiery plume exploded amongst the trees, briefly illuminating the dark valley. Hundreds of bodies scurried through the forest. It looked more like chaos down there than any attempt at strategy.

When Malja turned back toward the house, a little girl stood in the shadows. Neither moved. Malja didn't want to scare the girl, but before she could do anything more than lift her hand to wave, the girl dashed off — all four arms, gray skin, and backwards-bending legs of her.

With control, Malja hurried around the house. The girl-thing yelled, and the front door banged opened. More of these creatures poured out of the house.

They scanned the area, their heads bobbing in balance with their movements, and their clothing — strips of fabric that hung like vines — flowed too. They spoke in an effortless language punctuated with trilled sounds, and they moved in a coordinated fashion. Groups of five spread out, each peering into the distance.

Malja looked behind. The field was too open and empty to make a run. They'd see her with ease. She wanted to observe them, evaluate their aggressiveness and their fighting ability, but there was no time. Tommy would be opening a portal eventually. Besides, she had to trust him — trust that he had put her in the right spot.

Sheathing Viper, Malja stepped into the open. "I don't want to hurt anybody," she said with arms out, her palms up.

The creatures moved back, their surprised trills and calls sending the younger ones scrambling into the house. One creature, sporting strands of skin off its chin like a seaweed beard, squinted and leaned closer. With two hands clasped behind its back and two hands in front, it bobbed a few steps toward Malja.

Without thinking, Malja slid her right foot back into a fighting stance and lowered her center of gravity. Her right hand reached behind and rested on Viper. Her left stretched toward the creature as a warning. The motion caused her long coat to open, and her black assault suit reflected the low light from the house.

The creature's eyes widened as it stared at her clothing. It jumped into the air, spun around, and raised all four arms. "
Ahna lo larro,
" it said.

A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. The creature said its words again and pointed at Malja. The crowd repeated the words as if by saying them out loud, the words held new meaning. And then they dropped to the ground, prostrating before her with their heads lowered in the dirt.

Malja stood straighter and let go of Viper. None of the creatures spoke. She watched their behavior and wondered what was so special about her to cause this.

The front door opened, and a tall version of these creatures stepped out. This one wore similar strips of clothing to the others, but these strips were patterned with gold, green, and black. It observed Malja as if unsure she was real. It waited — tense and worried. At least, Malja thought it was tense and worried. For all she knew, the expressions she tried to read meant the exact opposite on these creatures. Finally, it trilled and walked toward her with controlled grace that limited the bobbing motions.

When it reached her, it bowed its head but not its body. "Follow," it said, over-enunciating, clearly trying to make sure it got the word right. Then it headed back toward the house.

Malja walked behind the creature, careful to step around the prostrated ones. Inside, the house was a massive temple to the art of woodwork. Everything had been carved from wood — beautifully so. Ornate moldings, candle sconces, tables, chairs, every aspect of the house had been carved into striking images of animals Malja did not recognize and of the creatures themselves.