by Deb E Howell
Cassidy stepped up beside her, bow in hand, quiver of arrows on his shoulder. She looked at him: he didn’t think he was going to get involved, did he? He might hit Jonas. And if Jonas couldn’t better Braph, what made him think he could?
“If he finishes Jonas, we’re next,” he said, his attention firmly fixed on the fight.
The Syakaran and the magician fought weaponless, testing themselves against one another. Jonas had been carrying his knife but it was no longer in his hand. Llew scanned the ground. He must have thrown it aside when he first rushed at Braph. Pride. He should have kept it, and Braph had a weapon in his magic bracelet. The fact was, there was no such thing as a fair fight between the two of them since, completely weaponless, Jonas was the stronger, the faster. Llew doubted the bracelet made Braph merely equal to his brother.
Jonas drove a punch at Braph. Braph blocked and swept around in an attempt to drive Jonas off his feet. Jonas jumped and came down swinging an even bigger punch and spun to follow it up with another. Somehow Braph anticipated the moves and twisted out of the way while staying close to ready his own attack. They failed to connect so many times, it looked more like a dance than a duel.
Braph flew about Jonas, the Syakaran unable to follow the magician’s moves. Braph’s fist connected with Jonas’ head and Jonas stumbled. He recovered quickly but Braph could fly faster than Jonas’ running and spinning on the ground. Jonas’ attacks rarely landed, while Braph was nearly managing a perfect score.
Jonas only had his strength and speed. Braph had those too, but he also had myriad other ways to direct his magic, as he soon demonstrated when he flung Jonas back and had him writhing on the ground, while Braph simply held a hand in the air above him. Sweat beaded on Braph’s brow. Llew’s eyes were locked on Jonas. She didn’t understand what was happening to him; he was in agony. His body flailed, arched, and spasmed, and he screamed.
“Stop!” Llew ran at Braph. Something flew past her head but she kept on until her shoulder connected with Braph’s chest. He might have been more powerful than he had been, but so was Llew. They both went down, with her on top.
She scrambled up, ready to pummel him, and Braph laughed.
Jonas rushed up beside her, wrenching his brother from the ground, but before he could lay into him, Braph, with little more than a gesture, sent a shock wave through the air, flinging Llew and Jonas back to the ground. Llew couldn’t get back up, her own muscles simply wouldn’t obey her. She felt sick, memories of events in Braph’s house still too fresh.
Braph set Jonas writhing again and Llew forgot her own safety.
“No! Stop! Please stop.”
Braph caught her eye and a smile curled his lips.
“Do you have any idea how much electricity the human body generates?”
Llew looked at him blankly. She didn’t know what he was talking about, and Braph’s face fell when he realised that was the case.
“You’ve seen lightning before, right?”
What did that have to do with anything? Then again, while he was focused on her, his torture of Jonas eased.
“Well, something akin to tiny bolts of lightning are firing throughout the human body at any given moment. For instance . . . picture your mother.”
Llew couldn’t help it. Memories flooded back.
“Electricity creates those images–”
Llew saw her mother in her mind’s eye. Was he doing that? Or was his suggestion enough to bring her mother to mind?
Jonas growled through his teeth as his body shook. He might have been looking at her, but his eyes didn’t seem focused. Llew’s insides wrenched from her desire to go to him, embrace him, shield him from Braph’s attack. But she was locked to the ground.
“–smells–”
Llew remembered the smell of her mother: sandalwood and jasmine. It was oddly comforting. But she needed to focus on Jonas. She needed to fight Braph, not to see and smell things because he told her to. She shook her head clear of the aroma. She didn’t even know if the memory was really hers or if Braph had planted it.
Jonas writhed in silence, limbs flailing, then he contorted into a foetal position.
It was horrific to watch, but Llew’s muscles still weren’t listening to her frantic efforts to regain control.
“–and sounds.”
Llew remembered her mother’s voice, singing to her when she was sick. Stop it! Stop it! Fight him.
Jonas, flung flat out on the ground, screamed.
Llew sobbed. Jonas was in agony and she could do nothing to help. She wanted to block out the scream, and she berated herself for the thought. If Jonas was suffering, how could she turn from that?
“And when you run, that’s electricity making your muscles move.”
Jonas spasmed and thrashed on the ground and tears streamed down his temples and into his hair. He was looking at her out the corner of his eye, she was almost certain. Fight him.
“Magic is excellent at turning up what’s already there.” Braph looked down at Jonas with pride in his work, then tilted his head in curiosity. “I wonder what’s going through his mind right now.”
Jonas’ thrashing eased abruptly, and Llew sprawled on the road – whatever force she’d been pushing against finally ebbed.
With a brief flash of annoyance, Braph flicked the switch and the spent crystal flew from the wrist device while Jonas whimpered on the ground before him. Llew crawled across the road to him, every ounce of her wanting to bring him comfort against the torture and humiliation his brother had inflicted.
Braph pulled the next dark purple crystal from a pocket, but in that moment Jonas clambered up, stopping Llew in her tracks, and flung himself at Braph, crashing to the ground on top of him and sending the crystal flying from his brother’s hand. Llew watched the crystal and, seeing an opportunity to handicap him, leapt up and ran for it. If she could keep it out of Braph’s hands . . .
Jonas’ momentum carried him over his brother and he rolled and landed in a crouch in the middle of the road, his body still shaken by tremors.
Llew’s hand was mere inches from the crystal when Braph snatched it up. Too late to stop or change direction, she ran into him, bounced off and crashed to the ground. He gave her a sneer and clicked the crystal home.
Braph turned back to defend Jonas’ attacks and Llew rushed up behind him, clawing and punching with little to no effect. She didn’t stop, though. Every bit of effort Braph had to put into defending against her was effort not directed at Jonas. Hisham swooped in to help, but Braph swept him aside with ease.
Braph flew from Llew’s reach to swoop around Jonas and continue the fight from a different angle, earning himself a short break from her onslaught. Llew dived in when she thought she could help rather than hinder Jonas, but even her added speed was no match for the Syakaran and the Karan magician powered by her blood. The men fought like brothers – kicking, punching, leaping, rolling – at breakneck speed. They were too fast, too strong. Blood and cries of pain flew in all directions and Llew couldn’t tell from whom they came.
Eventually Braph needed to switch crystals again.
Llew expected Jonas to take advantage of the lull, but he just knelt on the road bruised, battered and catching his breath, looking every bit as if he wished the fight was over. It occurred to Llew he had never had to fight like this before. Usually, he would have gone in the clear favourite. Against Braph, Jonas was struggling.
Llew ran again at Braph, but the crystal swap went smoother this time and he pinned her to the road with her own traitorous muscles even as he turned back to his brother.
“Had enough?”
“No.” Jonas tried to stand, gritting his teeth against the pain and damage.
Braph laid Jonas out with the same assault on his nervous system he’d begun earlier. Braph too dribbled blood from a variety of cuts and bruises bloomed under his skin; he too sought a break from the physical pummelling.
Llew couldn’t move. But Braph was down to the crystals
he’d created on her first day at his house, and holding Llew while attacking Jonas was taking its toll. Sweat sprang from Braph’s forehead.
Jonas writhed.
“Stop it!”
Braph looked at her briefly but said nothing. All his concentration was focused on Jonas’ torture.
But Jonas fought it. His shaking seemed uncontrollable, but control it he did. He kicked Braph’s feet out from under him, sending his half-brother crashing to the ground. Braph’s concentration broke and Jonas’ tremors stopped. He leapt to his feet, dragged Braph up by the collar and laid into him with a punch of immense power. Braph flew through the air again. Jonas drew two knives from his vest and followed him, twitching occasionally. But before Jonas could use the blades, Braph flung the hand girdled by his device out and Jonas was fired back at his friends, crashing against Hisham again and sending both men into a heap on the road.
Braph strode down the road after him, fury and determination seething on his swelling face. He flicked back his long leather coat, first one side then the other and drew two new contraptions: they didn’t look like much, just metal tubes lying across the tops of Braph’s fists.
Jonas extracted himself from Hisham, and one of Braph’s machines flashed fire, and thunder echoed around them as Jonas fell back, blood erupting from his chest.
Time slowed and yet, despite being released from Braph’s hold, Llew couldn’t move fast enough. She turned her head, heard herself calling Jonas’ name as she pushed herself up from the ground. Another flash, another boom, and a second spurt of blood leapt from Jonas’ gut as he hit the ground. Llew heard herself yelling, but couldn’t form a coherent word and didn’t know where to run. Should she launch herself at Braph or rush to Jonas’ side? Somehow she knew she was already too late for Jonas.
Another thunderclap and Hisham went down.
Cassidy was already down with a crossbow bolt jutting from his chest.
Alvaro lowered his sword, trying not to be the next target.
Before Hisham hit the ground, Llew turned to Braph and his assistant. She screamed for the carnage to stop. Her ears were ringing. She screamed again.
Nilv’s crossbow was empty.
Braph dropped his weapons, narrowed his eyes, and cocked his head. He glanced at his brother. Something Llew couldn’t read screwed up his face for an instant. Did he regret his actions? Remorse wouldn’t undo Jonas’ death. The end of the thought struck Llew, finally, fully. Jonas was dead. And she couldn’t heal him.
Braph had cheated. Jonas was the strongest, the fastest man in the world, and Braph had cheated. Her fury at boiling point, Llew ran at Braph.
He waited for her. But she came at him faster than he anticipated. Llew pushed him back, landed on him, straddling him, and pummelled him: chest, face, it didn’t matter, her fists were flying faster than ever, and his natural speed wasn’t enough to stop her circumventing his defences. Llew wasn’t just faster than she had been, she was stronger, too. She smashed his already broken nose, re-split an eyebrow . . . and kept going.
Finally, he gathered his wits and focused his power – her power – and pushed her from him. Braph followed the push with a kick and she staggered back, stumbling to the ground.
Alvaro must have made a move, because Braph swept an arm out as he strode toward Llew and she heard Alvaro lose his wind, hitting the ground somewhere behind her.
Watching the magician approach, his leather coat flying out behind him like a cape, his eyes reminded her of that first day she’d met Jonas, when he’d had her pressed against the wall with a crossbow to her chest, full of rage because she’d dared take his knife. That same knife had been discarded earlier and now lay just out of her reach. She flung an arm out to grab it, brushing the handle. The knife rocked and moved farther from her reach.
Braph rushed in, Llew lunged to the side and her fingers closed around the handle. Braph grabbed the front of her shirt and lifted her from the road, but she gripped the knife handle and thrust it forward. Against her added strength, Braph’s leather vest offered little resistance, and his soft belly offered none.
Braph’s eyes grew wide and he looked at her in shock.
Llew gripped his collar with her other hand, scrabbling for leverage as she pressed the big blade deep into him. Braph’s strength faltered and Llew began falling back, but she didn’t let go of him or the knife. He released her, and she hit the ground. Braph caught himself on one hand, and groped for her knife hand with his other. His hand closed on hers, but she didn’t fail, she held the knife steady, and she watched the shock in his eyes turn to bafflement, to fear, and then resolve.
Were his lips twitching? Was he trying to smile?
Llew heaved Braph aside, clambered up, and then nearly collapsed from the shooting pain in her gut. While Nilv looked on in horror, she ran and gathered up one of Braph’s thunder devices. Then she turned and pointed it back at the old man.
“Go. Or you’re next.” The metal device wavered in her hands, but they’d both seen how easily it killed, and Nilv needed no more persuasion. He turned his horse and kicked it into a gallop. Llew continued to aim the weapon at his back until she was sure he wouldn’t find some new depth of bravery and turn back, and then she flung it down and ran to Jonas’ side.
There was blood everywhere. It spread from him onto the road, it soaked his shirt and coated his vest and the knife handles within. Her eyes filled and the image blurred.
A movement caught her eye and she turned to Hisham, who was pushing himself to a sitting position. He gave her a weak smile and pressed a hand to his shoulder, wincing in pain. Cassidy lay beside Jonas, a crossbow bolt through his chest, completely still. Alvaro was picking himself up farther along the road, a hand to his head.
Llew turned back to Jonas. He was dead, and she couldn’t bring him back. That fact smacked into her heart faster than a crossbow bolt and she realised she was wailing, bawling like a baby. She crawled closer to him and lifted his blood-splattered head into her lap. She wanted to touch him, to wake him up, but then she didn’t want to touch him, in case he didn’t. What if he really was dead? She cried out again. He couldn’t be gone. Jonas was the strongest, most powerful man she knew. The most . . . the most beautiful. He couldn’t be dead.
Hisham’s shadow fell across Jonas’ face and she waved him away. How could he put Jonas in shadow? She wanted to wipe the bloody freckles from Jonas’ cheeks and forehead but, as her fingers were about to do so, a fresh cry left her. If she wiped the spots away they would smudge, covering even more of his face with his own blood. She didn’t want to remember him as a bloodied mess. She wished she had a damp cloth to clean him up properly.
What a silly thought that was. The man she loved was dead. What did it matter how he looked? With a light touch, she smoothed his brow.
Her fingertips tingled.
“Llew. Save Cassidy. I know you want to, but you can’t help Jonas,” said Alvaro.
Llew pulled her fingers back and the tingling stopped.
“Llew.” Alvaro’s voice seemed further away now.
“He’s right, Llew. Jonas is gone. But if you help Cassidy, now, you can save him.” Hisham crouched beside her, his voice thick over the loss of his best friend. “There’s a time limit. If you leave it too long, Cassidy will be gone, too.”
Llew touched her fingers to Jonas’ cheek and the tingle returned.
“I can save him,” she whispered.
“Huh?” said Alvaro.
“Llew.” Hisham placed a hand on her shoulder. “I thought Jonas would’ve told you. It’s too dangerous for an Aenuk to heal a Kara, so it just don’t work. It’s for your own good. But Cassidy–”
“I can do it.” Llew looked up at Hisham. “I don’t know how, but it’s working.”
Hisham’s brows drew down, then lifted as comprehension dawned. “Shit,” he said, sitting back. His mouth hung open for a moment as he calculated. “But you can’t heal them both. Jonas alone would just about drain the whole of Tu
rhmos. Unless you catch some people in there, and he won’t want that.”
Llew’s heart sank, remembering the devastation she felt after killing the girl in Aghacia, the children at Braph’s, and her own pa. And Jonas’ reaction. No, he wouldn’t want to come back under those circumstances. He would hate her for doing it. But she would risk it, she would let him hate her to have him back.
And then a white tree at the edge of a forest flashed into her mind, and she knew the answer.
“What if there was a way that wouldn’t kill anything else?”
Hisham cocked his head, sceptical. “Well, I’d say go for it.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“There’s a tree. It healed me from a cut from Jonas’ knife.” She held Hisham’s gaze and gave a small, determined nod.
He took just a moment to process what she was saying.
“Llew,” said Alvaro. “Please. You gotta save Cassidy.”
“How far is this tree?”
Llew shrugged. “A day. Might be longer if they can’t ride.”
Hisham deflated. He looked up to the darkening sky. “We don’t have that kind of time. Time’s already runnin’ out. If you don’t heal one of them soon, and I mean in minutes, they’re both dead.” He held her gaze. Neither he nor Llew wanted to play favourites, yet they both knew who they wanted to save. But in reality Cassidy was the only choice, since his recovery would come at the lowest cost. Hisham broke eye contact and started to stand.
“Wait.” Llew grabbed his arm. “What if I could keep them alive, just enough to get them to the tree. You think I could heal them then? Both of them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Help me try.”
Hisham nodded.
“Help me move them off the road.”
“What’s going on?” asked Alvaro.
“You heard her. Move them off the road,” said Hisham.
Not convinced that he understood, Alvaro did as he was told, lifting Cassidy by the shoulders and dragging him to the side of the road. Hisham went to help Llew with Jonas, but she brushed him off. She was strong enough, if temporarily bruised, while he was still bleeding from his shoulder.