"Potentia bitch!" the man with the long hair screamed.
Garon's tan face turned as white as bleached clay, but the other man pulled a thin saber from his belt. The weapon's blade was etched with designs, and its decorations confirmed my suspicion that the suspect was from one of the upper levels of Petrasada.
"Put down your weapon and come peacefully. I will not ask again." The words that came out of my mouth sounded as if someone else spoke them. They sounded firm and not terrified at all. I just hoped that the men wouldn't see my legs shaking.
The older man didn't answer, but his eyes hardened. I knew he would attack half a second before he dashed toward me with his sword raised, and I'd already drawn my own rapier.
Our swords connected with a sharp shriek of metal, and I was surprised by the strength in the older man's arm. I rotated my right wrist to wrap the thin edge of my blade around his arm, but my opponent guessed at my intent, and he brought his hilt down to keep me from shifting my weapon.
We parted, and the long-haired man took up a practiced fencing stance. It was a graceful pose that hinted at dozens of years of training. His eyes were a hard gray, and there wasn't a trace of fear in the focused orbs. The rancher I had fought yesterday had been unskilled, uneducated, and had carried a dull knife. This man was ready to kill me so that I couldn't arrest him, and he probably possessed the skills to do so.
Shit.
I should have spent a thousand more hours training my sword work. I should have gotten Fallon before chasing this lead. I should have just called the guards and then returned here to arrest Garon. He would have told me who the other man was when we questioned him.
Now I was going to be cut to ribbons on my second day of wearing the Alula.
The long-haired man thrust forward with the point of his saber, and my arm shifted to block it without my mind sensing the movement. It felt as if every muscle in my body fought against a heavy weight. I realized that I would definitely die if I didn't remember my training and relax my mind. The wrinkled man's attack was quick, but I'd fenced against the best trainers of the Potentia academy. Of course, I'd lost to them every time, but they were dozens of times faster than my current opponent.
He slid his sword away from my parry and tried to poke the tip past my arm. I shuffled back a step to counter the thrust, and then I pushed forward when his blade had cleared. I aimed the point of my rapier at the bicep muscle of his sword arm, but the man guessed my intention and flicked his weapon into the path. The movement left him exposed on his left side, so I yanked back my rapier before I thrust it again at his chest.
The opening had been a feint, and, as soon as my blade dove toward his blue shirt, he stepped around the side of my thrust and elbowed me in the face.
Stars exploded across my vision, and I tumbled against the stack of crates next to us. My spin caused my left arm to smash through one of the thin bamboo boxes, and it sunk into a thick bundle of straw. I swung out my right arm in the hope that I could catch the man with the edge of my blade. It was a useless movement though, and my sword passed through empty air.
"I thought Potentia would have been better fencers," the man sneered, and my vision cleared in time to see him shuffle toward me. My left hand closed around something made of glass, and I yanked it from of the crate before my long-haired opponent could stab me. I somehow blocked his thrust with my rapier, but my parry was a fraction of a second too slow, and the edge of his saber sliced open the side of my right forearm.
"First blood," he said through long white teeth. I saw Garon standing behind the man, and the shipwright's face was a portrait of terror. He probably didn't know if he should flee or help his partner. I imagined that most citizens didn't want the blood of a Potentia on their hands, but my opponent seemed to be enjoying the opportunity.
"Last face," I said as I hurled the flask in my hand at the long-haired man.
One of the many games we played in the orphanage involved throwing stones at the painted sides of various clay homes. It was a physical activity that I was actually talented at, and the kids had eventually forced me to use only my left arm for throwing. The years of practice had paid off, and the glass container smashed into the long-haired man's wrinkled nose.
"Ahhhhh!" he screamed when the glass broke, and he brought his free hand to his eyes. There had been a light pink-colored liquid in the flask, and most of it was now covering the man's face.
"Ahhhh! Nooooo!" he screamed again and then dropped his saber to the ground. I sprang toward him and kicked the hilt of his sword away from where he had dropped it. I was about to put the point of my own weapon to the man's chest and demand that he surrender, but the long-haired fencer fell to the ground with a screech that made the hairs of my nose stand to attention.
His face was melting. Or smoking. Or something that sounded painful and was producing a nauseating stench of cooking meat.
"Don't move," I pointed my sword at Garon. Even though I was a good forty feet away from the shipwright, he stopped his slow walk backward.
"What was in that vial?" I shouted over the screams of the man.
"I don't know! He gave me the liquid, and I just poured it into the glass." Garon waved his hands toward me and shook like a terrified bird.
"Kneel on the ground." I stepped around the thrashing body of the man I'd just fought and took a few steps toward the shipwright. Blood dripped from the cut on my arm, but the thrill of combat prevented me feeling any pain from the wound. My hand was working, so I figured the injury wasn't that severe.
The shipwright followed my orders, and I debated what to do. I had two pairs of steel handcuffs in one of my belt pouches, but I didn't really want to touch the man who was writhing on the ground. I'd probably have to cuff Garon and then return once I'd found guards to secure the shipyard.
"You are under arrest," I said as I pulled a pair of cuffs from my belt. They were thin bindings and embedded with magic that prevented them from unlocking unless a Potentia willed it. I sheathed my rapier with an easy movement and then grabbed the man's left wrist. It wasn't the same as solving my first case, but a first arrest would be an excellent achievement on my second day.
Then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.
I dropped to the brick floor of the building and rolled to my left as a dozen arrows attempted to penetrate my leather armor. The metal heads of the bolts bounced off the floor like a quick tap of a snare drum, and I didn't stop rolling until I'd found a spot under the stairs that led to the office.
Garon was dead; his body lay on the brick, and an arrow protruded from his skull. I saw four figures wearing black clothing dash from the maze of stacked crates, and each one held a short bow in their hands. I couldn't see their faces because of the black wrapping, but it was obvious that they were angling toward a spot that would let them aim under my cover.
"Shit," I said as I put the handcuffs back in my pouch and tried to figure a way out of the spot. My back was against the wall of the building, to my left were the stairs, in front of me were the bodies of the two men and the open space between the crates, and to my right was an even cleaner line for the archers to target me. I really needed to be on the top side of the stairs, but that would entail me running out into the open and risk getting filled with arrowheads.
Or maybe not.
I looked above me and saw the edge of the walkway that led to the office door. It was about ten feet above the ground and would have been impossible for me to reach on my own. I made the leap anyway and prayed to the Priestesses that my inexperience with my Alula wouldn't mean the end of my life.
I felt my cloak shift within a fraction of a second, and a sudden boost of wind carried my arms through the empty air above me. My gloved hands grabbed the bottom lip of the walkway, and I twisted my body around like I had once seen a Petrasada acrobat do with a bar. I spun upward with my feet pointed at the ceiling, and then let go before my legs smacked into the bamboo railing of the pathway.
Then I tumb
led up into the air like a lobbed stone. The strings of my new attackers' bows snapped, and I heard the arrows sink into the bamboo below me. I continued my flip through the air and felt myself pause at the apex of my maneuver. Then I started to fall back to the ground. My wings spread out to my sides and flexed their feathers, and I landed right in front of the doorway.
I had little time to celebrate my feat of gymnastics. A fifth attacker had appeared below me. He was also garbed in dark clothing and had his face concealed. Instead of a bow, the man carried what appeared to be a flintlock shotgun, and he pointed the open end of the weapon at me.
I dove backward through the door as I heard the firearm discharge. The bamboo shattered into a dozen pieces when I plowed through it, and the ceiling above me disintegrated into sand before I'd even fallen on my cloak.
I rolled to my feet and assessed the room. There was a bed, a desk, and a chest of drawers, but the far window grabbed my attention. I hated to run from this crime scene, but I understood my combat prowess enough to know that I had gotten lucky with the long-haired man earlier. Facing four archers and a man with a flintlock blunderbuss was suicide.
I could hear them running up the stairs outside the door, and I made my decision. The window was closed, but the glass looked thin, and I dove through it with a leaping two-foot kick. The glass shattered around my boots, the frame tore loose from the brick, and I was suddenly falling toward the clay of the shipyard.
My cloak opened before I smashed into the ground, and I made it twist against the air. The wings responded to my thoughts, and my body stretched out horizontal. I swooped over the shipyard dirt like a hawk and missed the top deck of a discarded boat by a few inches.
Then I was over Ver Lake and fifty feet in the air.
I turned around in the sky and positioned my body vertically while the Alula flapped against my back. I could hover there all day, but I needed to go get my sisters. The nearest nest was a few miles closer to the stairs that led to the second level of Petrasada, and it would probably take me twenty minutes to get there, report to the captain, and return with help. In that time, all the evidence of my battle might be expunged, but I doubted that the crates would be removed. We could study whatever was in the flasks and figure out what Garon had been working on.
I saw the man with the flintlock shotgun poke his head out of the office window. He was a few hundred yards away at a downward angle, and I guessed that his weapon would not be able to hit me. The assassin must have come to the same conclusion, so he climbed out of the window and up the face of the brick building and then stood on the roof. He didn't have his blunderbuss in his hand, and I wondered if I could glide down to arrest him.
The man made a strange gesture with his arms, almost as if he was waving them to his sides. Then he pulled them to his chest as if he was struggling to carry a heavy ball of stone. A bright light seemed to fold in on itself, and it exploded into a tunnel of coruscating colors. The rainbow of energy flew out toward me like a spray of water. I tried to force my wings to dodge. I tried to twist my body aside. I even thought about dropping, but the magic moved too fast, and I hadn't expected it.
Men weren't able to use magic.
The power slammed into me like a mule kick, and I felt my world start to spin. My vision became a kaleidoscope of blue sky, green water, and the colorful dots of the distant dwellings. I was falling, and my cloak wasn't working to pull me out of my plummet. My chest hurt so bad that I couldn't breathe, and my mouth opened in a silent scream.
Then I hit the green water of Ver Lake.
Chapter 6
My brother called them 'cattails.' They were reed-like plants that grew on the banks of muddy lakes and ponds. The grass had bunched groupings of seeds at the high end of the tall stalks, and they came apart in my hand as I used the bunched strands to pull my aching body out of the water.
"Shit," I said before I fell face first into the mud. Then I forced myself to crawl another few feet until I got too tired and had to lie back down. My cheek pressed against the cold mire, and I shivered a bit from the chill.
"Shit," I moaned again, and I tried to recall the exact movements that the man had made on the roof top.
I'd seen senior, aged Potentia and Priestesses use magic to start a fire, to make wind gust, or even to move objects around the room, but I had never seen magic like that man used. I knew it was possible since my sister trainees and I had been taught that the Apa gave the Priestesses the magic that was also imbued in our cloaks. I would develop the same powers once I had worn the magical wings for many years.
Men were not supposed to have the same abilities. Yet the black-clothed figure who had carried the shotgun and blasted me with power was definitely a man.
Did they work with Garon? Then why did they kill the wharf manager? Was that an accident? Did they not want him telling me about the work he was doing with the long-haired man? Were they a separate organization? The questions rolled through my head while I coughed up a stomach full of lake water onto the green mud.
"She swam over this way!" I heard a woman shout. The voice sounded as if it was still somewhat far away, and I poked my eyes above the waving cattails.
Two of the black-garbed archers walked through the reeds some sixty yards from me. I happened to peer over the reeds when both of their heads were turned away, and I dove back into the mud before I thought they spied me. Of course, they would want to make sure I was dead. Whatever meeting I had stumbled into seemed to be a massive conspiracy, and I didn't even know how to untangle its meaning. I would need to get Captain Ocellina involved.
I needed to escape first.
I thought about sliding back into the water, diving to its depths, and trying to come up in another spot. Ver Lake was eight thousand feet across at its narrowest, and there was no way they would be able to shoot me with their arrows from that range. I also doubted that the magic would reach me that far away, and I could safely fly to the closest nest. It could be an option, but I quickly threw aside the idea. I was a terrible swimmer and counted myself beyond lucky that I'd not only survived the magical blast, but had somehow been able to get to the shore without drowning. I also thought that the two archers would see me crawl back into the lake, and I would have no cover of reeds to hide me. Sure, there was the water, but I doubted that I could dive deep enough to keep the arrows out of my back.
That left me the options of sneaking around them through the reeds, attacking them, or trying to fly away. All three choices were poor, and I chided myself again for coming here alone. I should have at least brought an entourage of city guards.
"Look for the cloak!" a male voice yelled. He sounded slightly farther away, and I realized that they must have seen me dog paddle to the edge of the lake and were searching along this side.
The voice was correct. My Alula was pale blue and would be easy to see against the green and brown reeds. The magical cloak never got dirty, and I couldn't cover it up with mud to conceal the color. I glanced back at the cloth, and an idea sprang into my head.
The plan was risky, but I was desperate, and I didn't think I would live for another five minutes if I didn't get creative. I reached up and unlatched the clasp that held the light-blue cape. Then I laid it upon the mud and crawled a few feet away from the garment. There was a slight break in the reeds, and I rolled around in the mire there until I was even more covered with the green sludge. It ran through my hair and over my face, and I even felt the slimy stuff in my undergarments.
Then I pulled out my short knife.
It was less of a weapon and more of a tool, but the five-inch blade was honed to a keen edge. If I managed to surprise both of my pursuers at close range, I might be able to kill them before they could turn their bows on me. The plan felt like my only option, and I tried to take some slow breaths while I waited for them to take my bait.
The sound of sucking footsteps grew closer, and I commanded my heart to slow its racing. My orders didn't work though, and I quickly turned to
pleading. It still ignored me, and I felt the hand that held my knife start to shake. Shit, I wasn't ready for this. Within the first two days of my time as a Potentia, I'd killed two people, and now I intended to murder two more. Most Potentia never killed anyone, and I guessed I would set a record within the sisterhood if I escaped the shores of the lake.
The footsteps got closer. They sounded as if they were right next to me, but I didn't want to risk movement, or my attackers might notice my position. Maybe it didn't matter, as I was shaking so much now from my dread that I knew they would see my body if their eyes moved this way.
"There!" I heard a voice next to me shout a second before bowstrings twanged. It took every ounce of my willpower not to jump up, or move, or scream, and I kept the air trapped in my mouth.
The arrows snapped into the blue cloak lying ten feet away from me.
The black-garbed archers ran past and slid to a halt next to my Alula. I jumped to my feet behind the closest one and slammed my knife into the side of his neck. He dropped his bow with a gurgle of surprise, and then I tore the edge of the blade through his esophagus before I stepped to the woman. She had been staring at my discarded cloak, and I couldn't tell if she was surprised that I had duped her with the decoy or if she was surprised that I had just killed her partner. Either way, she didn't have another arrow nocked, and my knife punched through her ribs and into her heart.
Just as I had been trained to do.
My training hadn't prepared me for fighting in the mud though, and my attack made me tilt off balance. My legs slipped within the sludge, my hands tried to find leverage against the woman's twitching body, and we both tumbled into the stinky green mire. I lay there for a few seconds to catch my breath, and then I pushed the woman's corpse off me.
I yanked the arrows out of my cloak and clasped it back around my shoulders. The cloth was supposed to heal itself, but I hadn't thought I would test the magic this early in my career. I took the woman's bow and tested the pull of the string. It was a bit too light for my taste, so I grabbed the man's. It was also too light, but it would work well enough for me to defend myself. Then I grabbed a handful of arrows with my right hand and nocked one onto the string of the weapon.
Wings of Justice (City of Light Book 1) Page 5