The Blade of Highwind: The Complete Trilogy, page 39
But I was just getting started. My hands flashed with magic as I unleashed another volley toward our attackers, dropping two more, and Isolde launched a shot at a shed beside the manor. More explosions, more screams, more panic…
And then Mithros lunged behind the silo, giving us a temporary reprieve from the crossbowmen spewing out of the barracks. I brought him to a halt, my eyes flicking around in search of new targets and new threats. Isolde had very effectively winnowed the potential angle from which we could be attacked. Her bow had also neutralized the threat of the manor behind us; a curtain of flames now encircled half the building, belching smoke into the air and obscuring the windows. But with the back of the house clear, the servants would hopefully be able to get out before the blaze spread, though presumably at least some guards would be with them.
“I’ll take us straight south along the western fence,” I called back. “Just to keep them confused and scrambling. You’ll have to take out the tower the moment you—”
“Shayera,” Isolde interrupted.
I glanced back over my shoulder to follow the amazon’s gaze. Visible past the fire and smoke, atop the roof of the house, I saw the haunting blue light of Shayera’s Dal’Rethi tattoos far more clearly than her actual body. Her moonsilver blades were little more than strips reflecting that light, and she was pointing one of them at the silo. She was shouting something, too, but I couldn’t hear it over the shouting soldiers and roaring flames.
“It’s a warning,” Isolde said, inhaling sharply. “The Huntress—!”
I saw the threat a heartbeat before it was too late: the Senosi Huntress, her neck and arms illuminated by eerie green tattoos, standing atop the granary with a large crossbow pointed right down at me. I channeled a surge of energy into my barrier to strengthen it as she pulled the trigger, and my breath froze in my throat as the crossbow snapped and the bolt came streaking at me.
And shattered my barrier like a rock striking glass.
I didn’t have time to react; the bolt should have almost instantly killed me. But Isolde’s shoulder was suddenly blocking my vision as she half leapt out of the saddle to tackle me—
Then we were tumbling across the ground. I only regained my wits when we stopped moving, an abrupt pain in my shoulder signaling how violently I had landed on the hard ground. There was no crossbow bolt lodged in my skull, and I could clearly see why.
Isolde had taken the hit for me. Her body was on top of mine, the fletching of the bolt jutting out from behind her left shoulder. Her jaw was clenched tightly in pain as a tide of hot blood streamed down her arm onto me. Mithros was roaring next to us, pouncing on the few soldiers who had rounded the tower and dragging them down screaming.
And above it all, still atop the silo as if it were another watchtower, the Huntress was lining up another shot.
I only had a moment. There was no way I could stop a Senosi Huntress on my own—my magic would only feed her power. And her last shot had proven that a barrier spell wouldn’t help us against her, either. Shayera was the only one who could possibly stop such a foe, but she was at least thirty yards away on a different rooftop. And as remarkable as they were, her Dal’Rethi tattoos couldn’t make her fly.
Only I can.
It would be an insane gamble to try to teleport her from far away. With time and focus, it might have been possible, but there was no way in the void I could pull it off in the fraction of a second before the Huntress fired her crossbow. I needed something simpler that didn’t have to worry about a Senosi’s ravenous tattoos…
Without time to roll Isolde off me, I opened my right hand and unleashed a torrent of arcane energy. Not a quick directed burst at a nearby target, not even a barrage of small but deadly missiles I could guide. This was every spark of power I could muster, a full-on torrent of raw energy focused into a single bluish-violet beam.
Directed right at the legs of the silo tower.
The beam seared through the first leg, disintegrating the wood and causing the entire tower to lurch forward like a sailing vessel in a storm. The Huntress wasn’t ready for the sudden motion, and I heard a faint whistle in the air as her crossbow bolt whipped just past my head and stabbed into the ground barely six inches from my ear. Given a second chance, I had no doubt that she could compensate. But no one, not even a trained assassin, would be able to keep her aim steady while the entire building she was standing on collapsed.
Fire racing down my arm, I swept the beam sideways, searing through the other legs one after another, praying to Zarach that I didn’t end up dropping the whole thing right on top of us.
But no. Miraculously, it fell in the exact direction I had hoped: right at the manor house where Shayera was waiting on the roof. The structure creaked like an ancient oak as it toppled, timbers groaning, and the thunderous crash when it hit the ground was probably audible all the way in Vorsalos. A cloud of dirt, dust, and grain spewed into the air like a curtain of smoke.
And beyond the debris, visible only thanks to her blazing blue tattoos, was Shayera Starwind. She rushed forward, leaping off the roof of the manor to land atop the now-horizontal silo I had brought right to her.
Where the Senosi Huntress was waiting for her.
10
Lost Cause
Shayera
In any other confrontation against any other opponent, a giant silo crashing to the ground would have killed or at least maimed anyone standing on top of it. But in the here and now, on a battlefield filled with sorcerers and demon-possessed amazons and vatari-powered assassins, the normal rules weren’t in play.
As the silo toppled over, splitting open and spilling stored grain from its underbelly like a gutted fish, Jurisa somehow managed to ride the cylinder down and leap up onto its side just before it finally hit the ground. Between the rising clouds of dust and the thick curtains of smoke billowing up from the burning grass surrounding the manor, all I could see were the woman’s glowing green markings. And in all likelihood, all she could see were mine.
Grinning, I sprinted down the sloped roof of the manor. Mirek might not have been able to teleport me to her like I had hoped, but bringing the bitch to me was almost as good.
The moment I reached the lip of the roof, I jumped. The leap would have been impossible for a normal person—the gap had to be at least fifteen yards straight across. But with all the stored energy coursing through my Dal’Rethi markings, the distance was almost trivial. I soared across the gap and landed in a crouch atop the broken remnants of the silo’s cone-shaped top, my blades held out and ready in case Jurisa just tried to shoot me like a coward before I could close to range.
Which, naturally, was precisely what she did. Her crossbow—the same heavy repeating design as Aunt Val’s favorite weapon—had three shots left in its cartridge, and she fired them all in rapid succession. Thankfully, my enhanced reflexes were up to the challenge: I sidestepped the first bolt, ducked beneath the second, and then swatted away the third with my swords.
To her credit, Jurisa didn’t slap in another cartridge and keep trying. She just scowled, tossed aside her crossbow, and triggered the long, wicked tiger claws concealed in her gauntlets.
“Starwind’s daughter,” the Huntress spat. “You’re a long way from home.”
“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,” I countered.
Our voices were barely audible over the chaos raging below. It took all my self-control to remain focused on her even when I heard Mithros roar and Mirek unleash his magic. They had their jobs, and I had mine.
Hopefully, they’re already on their way out of here. I don’t intend for this to take long.
“And here I thought that Veleca’s pet was wrong,” Jurisa sneered, settling back into a balanced stance and waiting for me to make the first move. “The Princess of Highwind working together with a Crell sorcerer…I admit, it was the absolute last thing we expected.”
“You’ll find I’m full of surprises.”
I lunged forward. Leading with my main-hand weapon, I attacked with a rapid flurry of whirling strikes, mostly to test my opponent rather than score a quick kill. And unsurprisingly, Jurisa was more than up to the challenge. Despite having smaller weapons and inferior reach, she had no trouble deflecting my attacks. Predictably, she tried to disarm me by catching my blades between her claws and twisting, but I knew what to look out for and didn’t overcommit. Aunt Val had taught me all about Senosi fighting techniques. They were closer to martial artists than fencers, and they had plenty of tricks up their sleeves to deal with overconfident opponents who believed their superior reach would save them.
“You’ve had Senosi training,” Jurisa said as she flipped away, claws glinting in the moonlight as she almost casually returned them to her sides. “The traitor’s doing, I assume.”
“I know all about your kind,” I said, careful to watch my footing as I took a step closer. The silo was wide enough that it was pretty stable despite the cylindrical shape, but duels could be won or lost on a single slip or stumble. “I know the way you fight, the way you think…the way you take pleasure in murdering and torturing innocent sorcerers, especially men.”
The Huntress snorted, retreating a step to maintain the distance between us. She probably wanted to drag this out in the hopes that her men would be able to help her. Coward.
“From what I’ve heard, your mother didn’t pass on her power,” Jurisa chided. “Nor did your father ever bind you to that blade of his. And now you’re allied with a bloody Crell? You must be such a disappointment.”
I rushed forward again, alternating between low and high sweeps in such a frenzied rhythm that she wouldn’t have time to counter. For a split second, it seemed like it might catch her off-guard and give me an opening—I managed to score a wicked slash across her right thigh, cutting through her black leather pants and revealing more glowing green flesh beneath. But the hit didn’t even cause her to stumble, and I realized belatedly that it had merely been bait. I was in too close, and she suddenly spun her entire body around in a whirling, gravity-defying kick. I leapt away just before a stiletto blade jutted out from the flat heel of her boot and nearly slit my throat.
“Not bad,” she taunted as we reset again, her blade sinking back into her boot when her foot returned to the ground. “Not bad at all.”
“You can’t win,” I told her. “The Senosi are gone. You’re just a little slow getting the message.”
“Did you know that you’re the only person in this entire city the demon can’t control?” Jurisa asked, ignoring the jibe. “I didn’t even realize those monstrosities could experience fear, but then I saw how it reacted after Tanisgarde. I admit, it was quite amusing to watch it squirm.”
“I doubt your mistress will be as amused that we ruined her plans.”
The Huntress arched a black eyebrow. It only deepened the wrinkles in her gaunt face. “Is that what you think you’ve done? You really have no idea what that Avetharri relic is capable of, do you?”
I paused. I knew she was probably just stalling to buy her forces more time, but on the off chance she wasn’t…
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
“I really thought you would run straight home with your tail tucked between your legs, but it would seem that we underestimated you,” Jurisa said, a hint of genuine respect in her voice. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you freed the amazon. The girl deserves to die on her feet, not as a thrall of that abomination.”
My brow furrowed. Senosi were trained liars and assassins, but I didn’t sense any duplicity in her voice. Bitterness, certainly, but not overt deception.
“Those markings of yours are quite something, aren’t they?” the Huntress asked. “I never expected to see them on a princess. But then I remembered what you were…or rather, what you weren’t.”
A dark smile touched her lips. “That’s the real reason you got the tattoos, isn’t it? The daughter of two legendary heroes couldn’t stand the thought of being…what’s the word? Nugûl, is it?”
I rushed forward again, already sick of this bitch’s voice. This time, I used the maeed cron’ha, a series of rapid, encroaching thrusts with both weapons designed to drive an opponent backward into less favorable terrain. Here, that terrain was the large rent in the side of the silo, created during the crash. If I got very lucky, she might trip and fall in; if I got a little lucky, she might at least stumble and give me an opening.
But no, it wasn’t going to be so easy. The moment her feet approached the gap in the wood, Jurisa vaulted straight up into the air and performed an acrobatic backflip that allowed her to land comfortably on the other side. I knew better than to follow—her claws were out and waiting for me the instant she landed.
“A girl born with every privilege imaginable, yet it still wasn’t enough,” Jurisa said without missing a beat. “You needed something that would let you look into the mirror and convince yourself that you deserve the pampered life you’ve been given. But deep down, you still know it’s all a lie. Your parents are the one and only reason you’re special.”
“What’s your excuse for the tattoos?” I snarled back. “Boys wouldn’t pay attention to you, so you volunteered to be a psychopath?”
The other woman’s eyes narrowed. Not in rage, as if I had struck a sore spot, but in…sorrow?
“I don’t know why I thought you might understand,” Jurisa said. “The traitor has probably been whispering lies into your ears from the moment you were born.”
“Lies? You mean the Senosi didn’t torture and slaughter thousands of people? You didn’t make everyone born with the tiniest spark of potential hide in fear that you’d murder them?”
“We were protecting Vorsalos from the pirates who controlled it! We destroyed the Lecasi Brotherhood and the Grim Fangs and every other criminal cartel who ran this city. This plantation right here used to be a smuggling hub for lotus peddlers!”
She shook her head, her lip twisting. “We avenged people like us—people who can’t burn down buildings with their bare hands or end lives with a snap of their fingers. That’s the real difference between you and I, don’t you understand? You’re a spoiled brat who got those markings so you could feel special. I got them to protect the weak and vulnerable.”
“Bullshit,” I growled. “All you’ve done with them is inflict pain and suffering.”
“We did what was necessary to build a better world,” Jurisa said. “A world where the guilty were punished—where only the righteous and the worthy could wield true power. A just world; a fair world.”
“Controlled by a single vengeful lunatic. I’ve heard the stories. Do you even know how your precious Inquisitrix died? Do you understand the nature of the power that consumed her?”
“I understand that the dragon ruined everything, as his kind always do,” Jurisa said. “If the Sarodihm hadn’t trapped him, I can’t even imagine the terror he would have already unleashed.”
I went cold, the blades in my hands suddenly feeling ten times heavier. “The Sarodihm?” I rasped. “What are you talking about?”
Jurisa’s dark smile returned. “Did you really believe that the Senosi were the only ones who would try to stop the dragon? That no one else in Torsia would have the good sense to realize what his return could mean? A war for the rights to bear his child. An endless reign of fire and blood. A new Avetharri Empire…”
My thoughts flashed back to Tairi and Astaril and all the others back in Nelu’Thalas. They had been obsessed with the way that Nugûl were treated in Nelu’Thalas, but they had never once mentioned the dragon. At least, not to me.
But then, the only reason I’m here in Vorsalos right now is because they lied to me. Tairi had told me that the Sarodihm wanted me as a symbol of Nugûl oppression. I thought she wanted me to protect them. When I learned the truth—when she came to me and revealed their plot for me to lead them in a bloody coup against the queen—that was when I walked away.
“The Sarodihm are the oldest enemies of the Wyrm Lords,” Jurisa said. “They have been trying to free the Fallen Gods from the Pale for thousands of years. A new dragon—and the offspring he could sire—are the greatest threat to their cause in an age.”
“What did they do with him?” I demanded, glaring at her across the gap in the silo. “Where is the dragon?”
“Somewhere you will never find him. My Senosi sisters may be dead, but the Sarodihm have survived in secret for thousands of years. They defeated the dragons once, and they can do so again.”
Snarling, I lunged across the gap. I knew it was foolish—that she was goading me—but I couldn’t stop myself. I soared through the air, energy surging through my tattoos, my blades ready to slice her in half the instant she came within range. I understood exactly what I needed to do to defeat her—I had every thrust, every slash, every counter planned in advance. Val had taught me her moves, but no one had taught this woman mine.
Yet it made no difference whatsoever.
Jurisa moved quicker than lightning—quicker than anyone I had ever seen. After sidestepping my double-bladed strike when I landed, she effortlessly rolled away from my whirling follow-up, sending my blades whooshing harmlessly past her head. My markings made me stronger and faster than a normal human or elf, and yet she made me feel like I was fighting in mud. Every slash, every strike, was always a split second behind—
And then her boot slammed into my chest with enough force to launch me backward into the hole.
It shouldn’t have been a long fall—the silo should still have held plenty of grain. But as terrifying as it was to imagine sinking into an endless mound of quicksand and suffocating, my heart skipped a beat when I realized there was nothing to catch my fall. I dropped farther and farther—
