The Way of the Power (25 page)

Abrazkia hissed as her head scanned her enemies. Though her do-kha had protected her, she looked winded. Malja wondered how much energy she expended to maintain her form. Perhaps they could simply wait her out.

Huffing and sweating, Stray clanged his sword on the stone floor to get Abrazkia’s attention. “You are strong and fast, but there are four of us. You are not that strong nor that fast. Turn around. Leave this Temple and we will spare you.”

Malja didn’t think Stray believed his words. If they worked that would be great, but more likely, he was simply stalling. He needed a few moments to breathe, and every second longer helped the Artisoll.

But Abrazkia had no interest in waiting. She barked sharply, and her do-kha created four massive arms. Each one ended in a sharp, club-like shape — capable of both cutting and bludgeoning. She stepped forward and all four arms attacked.

Malja ducked a swipe at her head. She heard the ring of steel as Hirasa blocked her attack. Stray parried and Fawbry jumped back. But the attacks continued to come fast and hard. Each arm acted independent of the others.

Malja blocked two more strikes and attempted to counter a third. The weaponized arm came in at her, and she sliced downward with Viper. Sparks flew as she knocked the attack from the cutting blade to the round bludgeoning side. Abrazkia made contact, bashing Malja in the shoulder. The hit deadened all sensation in her hand, but she maintained her grip on Viper. A second hit followed up, bashing Malja in the side.

Dropping to the floor, she avoided a third strike to the head. Hirasa had been backed into a corner and Fawbry spent most of his time dodging non-stop attacks. Stray had locked his sword against Abrazkia’s arm, but such contests of strength would only last a short moment. Soon, he would be sent backward and have to return to a straight fight.

Then Malja saw something that electrified her skin with hope — bits of Abrazkia’s calf. Stretching the do-kha in four directions across the room had its limits. It wasn’t infinite in size, yet Abrazkia continued to force it further than it could handle. It had to leave her feet in order to reach her enemies.

Malja’s pulse quickened and she smelled her own ambition like an animal sensing the pheromones of a dangerous predator. She needed one thing to make this work. “Keep fighting back!” To her pleasure, she saw Fawbry and Hirasa find deeper wells of strength. They both launched forward, surprising Abrazkia with their sudden vigor. Stray, of course, never once backed down.

Malja parried off three swipes at her head. She checked again — even more of Abrazkia’s right calf had become uncovered. With a pure rush of joy, Malja maneuvered close to Abrazkia. Having seen her target with clear eyes, her body advanced with expert skill, denying Abrazkia an easy target and blocking the tendrils of do-kha that came too close. She spun low in a wide arc. Viper sang as it glided through the exposed knee.

Abrazkia’s head tilted back. Her shrill cry reverberated on the walls. Blood splashed out of the open wound. The do-kha tendrils fighting Fawbry flicked back, reabsorbed into the torso, and then reformed below as a simple pegleg.

With anguished moans, Abrazkia clubbed Stray hard enough to lift him off the floor. Before he landed, she hit him again. He struggled to get back to his feet, falling over twice. Checking that he would be okay, Malja missed the sweep at her feet. She fell, and Abrazkia cracked her across the chest.

Hirasa tried to take advantage of the situation and chopped down on the nearest tendril. It swished out of the way and returned with blazing speed. Battering her in the head, the tendril dazed her long enough to wrap itself around her waist and whisk her toward the ceiling. Twice, Abrazkia’s do-kha thumped Hirasa into the ceiling before throwing her at the far wall.

Hirasa screamed as she plowed clear through into a small study on the opposite side. Stone and wood crumbled around her and she continued to bawl in pain. Her legs bent at the wrong angles.

Malja and Stray were back on their feet, working hard to keep Abrazkia busy. When Fawbry slipped by, Malja stopped worrying about Hirasa. Though not a great fighter, Fawbry had always been the one to save those caught in the crossfire of Malja and her enemies.

To help him out, Malja got Stray’s attention and nodded toward the stairwell leading further up. Together they allowed Abrazkia to push them back. Once they had climbed the stairs, Abrazkia was fully committed to staying with them. If she tried to deal a killing blow to either Fawbry or Hirasa, she would turn her back to Malja. Do-kha or not, Malja would have put everything she had into ripping Abrazkia apart.

But Malja never seriously considered that Abrazkia might turn away. That grotesque being wanted the Artisoll most of all, and the only way to get that was up the stairs. As Fawbry carried Hirasa off, she felt Stray move alongside her.

“We can’t beat this thing. Not here. She’s going to get to the roof.”

“We hold her as long as we can.”

Stray ducked a blow and jabbed with his blade. “Let me stay here. I can hold her long enough for you to get to the others. You need to be the last defense.”

Malja blocked a tendril even as she saw the sacrifice in Stray’s eyes. No sorrow, no regret. Instead, honest joy. He had spent his life training to do this — give himself over to protect the Artisoll.

“Go,” he said.

Malja bolted up the stairs. She wanted to be there for him, but he had spoken true. She needed to mount a final defense — give the Artisoll all the time she required.

Flying step over step, Malja’s chest swelled for Fawbry and Stray and Hirasa. She couldn’t have asked for better people with which to fight an impossible foe. Her heart dampened with determination. She would see this through. If she had to die, so be it.

But she would see Abrazkia die first.

Chapter 25

When she climbed the last stair
and put her feet on the top of the Tunistall cliffs, Malja wanted to collapse. Despite her do-kha’s best efforts to cool her body, sweat covered her skin. Her legs pulsed one ache after another. Between fighting and climbing, she had expended more energy than any fight before. From the flushed face of Big Nose, she could see she wasn’t the only exhausted one.

“Normally, we have an entire day to make this climb,” he said, dabbing his forehead with the sleeve of his robe. “Plenty of stops along the way to greet people and rest, too.”

Malja wanted to say something back, even a simple encouraging remark, but her throat constricted at the sight beyond Big Nose. The Artisoll — once more a young woman — lay flat and asleep about four feet in the air. A soft glow like the morning sun radiated out of her.

“Is this it? The Rising?”

“No,” Big Nose said. “We need the Queen. Without her, this will never happen.”

“What?” Part of Malja wanted to take Viper and turn the Old Man into Old Man stew. But she noticed Tommy standing by the Artisoll, and her heart lurched for him. “We can’t leave her floating in the air, and Abrazkia’s coming up here soon enough, and you want to tell me that we’re missing a damn Queen?”

“Normally, the Queen would be here, sitting by the Artisoll’s head. The Queen would be dying — for just as there is only one Artisoll, there is only ever one Queen. As her last act, the Queen would release herself from her mortal being and let her soul shock the Artisoll into a new life as Queen.”

“But the Queen is already dead.”

Big Nose cowered from Malja’s intensity. “That is the problem.”

“You knew we didn’t have the Queen. What did you expect to do once you got here?”

“Nothing at all. My part in all this is to find the Artisoll and, when the Rising occurs, to assist her up the Temple. Queen or no Queen, I had a duty to the Artisoll which I have fulfilled. The rest is up to the ways of the universe.”

Though aching, Malja paced on the roof, her mind swirling through one idea after another. “You said the Artisoll needs a shock, a blast of life from a soul — does it have to be the Queen?”

“It always has been.”

“But
must
it be?”

Big Nose’s jaw moved but no sound came out.

Malja huffed. “We don’t have time. Answer me.”

“I suppose not. It’s always been the Queen, but logically, the process must have originated before there ever was a Queen.”

Malja lifted Viper as the roof trembled in a steady rhythm. “Good — because there’s a huge blast of life coming up those stairs.”

“No, no, no. We cannot allow that monstrosity to become the essence of the Artisoll. That would pollute all our magic with an abomination.”

“You have a better idea?”

Abrazkia growled and barked as she approached. Her steps were slow but unwavering. Again, something niggled in the back of Malja’s head — something was wrong but she couldn’t get the answer to form.

Big Nose shivered at the sounds coming from below. “Any idea is better. I’d offer myself but I have no magic to give her. That vile thing coming — I’d sooner hurl the Artisoll over the cliffs than allow it to become part of her.”

“You might as well jump with her now because Abrazkia is about to be here and we’ve got nothing else.”

Malja and Big Nose both stopped their argument as they saw the same thing — Tommy. While they had been yelling at each other, Tommy had been focused on his tattoos. His body lifted off the ground until he floated at the side of the Artisoll. Placing his hand on her head, he opened his mouth. A swirl of mist left him and drifted over her.

Malja rushed over to him. “No! Stop this right now!”

As the mist continued to leave him, Tommy glanced down at her. With his free hand, he tapped his chest twice.

“No. You won’t be okay. Please. I can’t have you die. Not like this.”

Tommy shook his head and smiled. She had seen that smile many times before — a promise of sorts, an expression meant to tell her that he knew something she didn’t, that all would be well.

A loud crash of stone tumbling downward turned Malja toward the stairwell. “I’ll stall as long as can,” she said, her voice growling the words. “You better survive this.”

“What can I do?” Big Nose said, flapping his flustered hands.

“Stay out of my way.”

Abrazkia grunted as she climbed the final stairs. When she stepped onto the roof, her body heaved for each breath and she had lost an arm. Malja smiled with dismay — Stray had inflicted some damage but he certainly had been killed.

Not wanting to allow Abrazkia to recuperate, Malja sprung forward. She dug for all her dying strength, moving in a whirlwind of attacks. Spinning right, she went for the neck. Blocked. Rebounding, she spun left and struck at the knees. Blocked. Spinning back right, she aimed for the side. Blocked. Spinning left, she pivoted right, altering her attack into a windup for a heavy blow to Abrazkia’s armless right side. Viper bit into Abrazkia, ramming her toward the stairs.

Abrazkia kicked off the ground and tackled Malja. They tumbled together toward the edge of the cliff. Clutching onto Abrazkia’s hair, Malja yanked her head back and punched her in the neck three times. Such blows should have killed Abrazkia, but her do-kha saved her once more.

The do-kha!
Malja’s thoughts blazed even as she grappled with her enemy. Why hadn’t Abrazkia used her do-kha to create a portal and simply transport herself to the roof? Why all the fighting? Why even bother with the executions at the dock? She could have snatched the Artisoll out from under them with no trouble. And unlike Malja, Abrazkia didn’t have to protect Tommy from using too much magic.

Abrazkia landed two strong hits to the gut, but Malja barely noticed. She had seen once already that the do-kha had limits, and she knew from her own do-kha, that it responded to the physical being of its wearer. Could it get tired? Perhaps after transporting Abrazkia halfway around the world and constantly protecting her from harm, it couldn’t be used to create a portal right away. But why then turn into a monster that used more energy than simply aiding Abrazkia in a normal fight?

Abrazkia rolled atop and clamped her one hand around Malja’s throat. Malja shoved hard against Abrazkia’s snout but breathing became more difficult with each passing second.

The eyes — Malja saw such hatred in those monstrous eyes.
Emotion!
The do-kha responded to the physical needs of its wearer, but what if responded to the emotions, too? Harskill had said that she needed to understand herself better if she wanted to control her do-kha. He had to mean her emotional self — the part of her that she kept most closed off.

Malja ceased resisting Abrazkia, and instead, closed her eyes, focusing on her own do-kha. She thought of the emotions she felt towards Abrazkia. Though ugly, she had to embrace it — hatred. This Gate woman had murdered the Queen and attempted to wipe away an entire world for her own selfish needs. Hot hatred. But something else floated there, too. Not for Abrazkia, but for the others — for the Artisoll, for Tommy, for Fawbry and Hirasa and Stray, for all those on Carsite and Corlin. She felt like a big sister to them all. A protector. The more she explored it, the more the emotion burned within her like a raging, uncontrolled fire.

Before she opened her eyes, she heard a garbled scream and the weight upon her lifted. When she did take a look, Malja found Abrazkia rolling on the roof, her body aflame. Malja did not let go of that hatred — not yet. She kicked Abrazkia hard, forcing the woman closer to the cliff edge. Another kick. Another. As Abrazkia finally reduced the fire on her do-kha, Malja kicked her over the edge.