Thinblade

by David A. Wells

  Kelvin handed the shirt to Alexander, who took it with a look of wonder. The metal shirt was cool to the touch and weighed only a couple of ounces, but it felt durable in a way that Alexander couldn’t quite explain. It had a feel of permanence and a timeless quality to it.

  “Kelvin, thank you, but this must be priceless. I can’t possibly …” Alexander started to say.

  Kelvin cut him off with a raised hand. “You can and you will. I made this mail shirt years ago and it has sat in my vaults because I couldn’t find someone worthy of wearing it, until now. Mage Cedric chose you. You lead our struggle against a very dark future. This shirt will protect you. If you wish to repay me for this gift, then be victorious.” He gave Alexander a very direct look. “I cannot defeat Phane. I know of no wizard who can match him. If you do not succeed, then darkness will consume our world. You are our only chance at a future worth having.”

  Alexander was humbled. He looked Mage Gamaliel in the eye. “If it’s within my power, then I will succeed,” he said quietly and solemnly, as if making an unbreakable oath to an unquestioned authority.

  Kelvin nodded his satisfaction and turned to Abigail. “Lucky tells me you are an accomplished archer.” She glanced at Lucky and looked back to Kelvin, wide-eyed. He took a beautifully crafted, medium-sized composite bow from one of the bags. “This bow should be just the right size for you. It’s not too big to use effectively on horseback and will send an arrow farther, harder, and straighter than most any other bow. I crafted it to be very powerful, even without any magic. Before I enchanted it, I wasn’t strong enough to pull the string all the way back and therein lies the magic I have invested in this bow. My enchantment makes it easy to draw. The natural power of the bow and your skill at archery will do the rest.” He handed it to Abigail with both hands.

  She took it with a look of delight. “Thank you.” She looked at the well-crafted bow and tested the draw. It pulled back with ease. Her look of wonder turned to a smile. “This is wonderful. I can hardly wait to try it out.” She got up and kissed the Mage on the cheek.

  Kelvin smiled broadly. “You are most welcome. I trust it will serve you well.”

  He turned to face Isabel. “I’m told you have a familiar. A forest hawk named Slyder. It takes a remarkable individual to attract a familiar without having survived the mana fast.”

  Isabel smiled. “He was a gift from my parents when I was little. They had Mason cast the spell to call him to me, although I remember that he doubted it would work. I’m glad it did. Slyder is one of my best friends.”

  “You have a natural affinity for animals or it would not have worked. That is why I believe this is the perfect gift for you. It was made before the Reishi War and enchanted by a wizard of great power. I acquired it many years ago and have saved it for just the right person.” Kelvin removed a jewelry case from the bag and opened it to reveal a necklace made from sturdy links of silver with a tiny gold figurine of an animal attached every inch or so along the front of the chain. There were a total of seven animals: bear, wolf, horse, hawk, ferret, mountain lion, and deer.

  “It’s beautiful.” Isabel’s eyes sparkled with delight as she carefully lifted the exquisitely crafted necklace from the case.

  “And oh so much more,” Kelvin said with a knowing smile. “When you wear it, you will be able to commune with animals. Most animals will be friendly to you and you will be able to talk to them within your mind. Remember, animals are not as intelligent as people and they have very different concerns than we do, but they can be helpful in many circumstances and will often provide invaluable information.”

  Isabel blinked in surprise, then hugged the Mage. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I love it.”

  Alexander smiled at her delight and was more than happy to help her put it around her delicate neck. Kelvin smiled in satisfaction when Alexander closed the clasp.

  He turned to Anatoly, who frowned in near alarm. If Alexander was uncomfortable accepting gifts, Anatoly was almost hostile to the notion.

  “Lucky told me you would not want anything, but I have an item that I think will assist you in your duty to protect Alexander. It’s only in that spirit that I offer you this gift.” He took a broad, heavy leather belt from his bag. “I made this from the leather of a wyvern and enchanted it myself. When you wear it, you will have the strength of three men.” He handed the belt to Anatoly, who took it reluctantly.

  “Thank you, Mage. I will take great care with this and return it to you when Alexander has finished with this business,” Anatoly said.

  Kelvin chuckled. “If that is your wish, then I will honor it, but know that I give this in the spirit of a gift.”

  He turned to Lucky who looked genuinely surprised. “I acquired this item several years ago from a traveling merchant. He claimed it was made by a master craftsman on the Isle of Ithilian. It was of such fine quality that I bought it simply because I value quality workmanship. When I heard you were coming, I took the time to enchant it for you.”

  It was a sturdy leather bag, much like the one Lucky always carried, but with a wide strap that fit easily across his chest and over his shoulder.

  “I know how much of a pack rat you are and I’ve seen how many things you’re able to carry in that bag of yours, so I thought you might like to have a bigger bag—bigger on the inside, anyway.” Kelvin smiled at the startled look on Lucky’s face.

  “I believe you will find that it holds much more than it looks like it could and the weight of the contents will not affect the weight of the bag. It should make traveling a bit easier and allow you to carry most of your concoctions without fear of breakage or damage.”

  “Kelvin, this is wonderful. Thank you.”

  Finally, Kelvin turned to Jack. “Master Colton, I haven’t forgotten about you.” He took a dull grey-colored cloak from the bag. “In the swamps of southern Karth lives a large lizard that is able to blend in with its surroundings. This cloak is made from the leather of such a creature and then enchanted to retain the natural ability of the beast. When you wear it, you will be able to hide in plain sight by simply willing the cloak to blend in.” He handed it to Jack, who stood to receive it. He held it up inspecting the workmanship, then threw it over his shoulders with a flourish, tossed up the hood, and promptly faded into the background.

  Alexander could see where he was if he focused, and of course his aura was still visible. But for anyone with normal vision, it would be hard to tell that Jack was standing there.

  Jack removed the hood, and the cloak returned to its normal grey. He bowed formally. “Mage Gamaliel, you do me honor. I will wear this cloak with pride and use its power in service to Alexander and the Old Law. Thank you.”

  Kelvin chuckled, “Well spoken, as usual.”

  He stood up. “These items are given in the hopes that they will help protect the world from Phane. Use their power well. Now, I think I smell food.”

  Lucky stood, grinning. “Indeed you do.”

  Just then Adele stepped to the threshold of the room. “Lord Alexander, breakfast is served.”

  Alexander stood up and gave the serving woman a warm smile. She was always so eager to please and worked hard to do a good job. Alexander liked her even though he’d just met her only two days ago. He reminded himself that she was one of the people he was fighting to protect. If he failed, she would come to a bad end along with countless others.

  “Thank you, Adele,” Alexander said, heading for the dining room with the rest of his friends. “It smells delicious.”

  And it was. Adele and her staff had produced a huge spread of bacon, sausages, eggs, potatoes, biscuits, and juice. Alexander ate his fill and savored every bite. He knew he would be eating travel rations for the foreseeable future and wanted to enjoy his last good meal before he left. He always admired Lucky’s simple, unabashed pleasure at good food and sought to emulate his old tutor in that regard. The meal was over all too soon. Adele appeared almost as if by magic when Alexander pushed his pl
ate away.

  “Lord Alexander, are you leaving? I … I only ask because you’re dressed for travel and I’ve noticed your packs are lined up in the foyer.” She looked a little timid at having asked a question that she had no real right to ask.

  Alexander offered her a smile of reassurance. “We are leaving, Adele, but I hope to be back in a week or two.”

  “Oh, I do hope you hurry back. I’ve so enjoyed having you here. You’re very friendly, if I may say so. Most guests in this wing of the palace are too important to even notice my staff and me. You’ve been so nice, and well, I just want to say thank you.” She stopped short to cut off her rambling.

  Alexander’s smile broadened. “You’ve been a delight and your service has been impeccable. Thank you for taking the time and making the effort to do your work well.”

  She blushed at the praise. “I took the liberty of preparing some food for your journey. When I saw your packs I thought you might like something to take with you. I’ll be right back up.” She hurried off to retrieve bundles of bread, fruit, dried meats, and sausages.

  Alexander and his companions were in the foyer and had gathered their equipment and strapped on their weapons when Adele came bustling into the entry hall carrying a basket full of cloth-wrapped bundles of food. She had one for each of them and started handing them out quickly.

  Alexander took his with a smile and slipped it into a pocket on the outside of his pack. “This is very thoughtful, Adele. Thank you again.”

  The moment he stood back up, the faint glow coming through the balcony windows in the sitting room changed from the pale blue of a new dawn to the orange red of a furnace fire. Half a heartbeat later, a wave of heat washed through the archway and into the foyer as a ball of liquid fire burst against the outside of the balcony doors, setting them ablaze in a wall of flame.

  Chapter 51

  Alexander grabbed his pack and his bow and quiver. His friends wasted no time either. They heard commotion out in the hall a moment later, followed by a volley of arrows from the square below that shattered the glass of the balcony doors and allowed the wall of liquid fire to spill onto the carpets of the plush sitting room and ignite the floor and drapes.

  Alexander threw the door open to the glass bridge. What he saw stunned him to the core.

  The man in black was standing in the middle of the bridge. He held nothing but a knife. There was a trail of broken bodies crumpled in pools of crimson littering the hall behind him. Commander P’Tal stood at the center of the bridge with his knife buried into the heart of the wizard that had been standing watch with the guards. Jataan P’Tal pulled the knife free and started walking toward the dozen troops standing between him and his target. He wore no armor, had no shield, and wielded only the medium-sized knife for a weapon.

  The remaining guard force was divided into two squads of six. The squad nearest the door held its position. The men down the hall fired a volley of crossbow bolts at the lone advancing enemy. Alexander saw Jataan P’Tal’s magic flare brightly. He contorted himself almost impossibly and the six crossbow bolts passed him by without so much as a scratch. He walked briskly but not overly hurried, like a man on his way to an important meeting.

  The six men rushed to the attack with spears and swords. Jataan P’Tal met the attack with practiced ease. He seemed to know what his enemy would do before they did. When their attack came he was simply not in the way of the strike but had moved to a position where he could counterstrike with deadly effect.

  The first guard thrust with his spear. P’Tal stepped at an angle just outside the thrust and slipped his blade over the top of the thrusting arm, slicing to the bone across the inside of the man’s upper arm. Blood sprayed across the guard’s chest and his spear clattered to the floor. Jataan P’Tal was already past the dying man. The next guard slashed with his sword. P’Tal stopped cold in his tracks and the blade whistled past just inches from his belly. A moment later he lunged with impossible speed and drove the point of his blade through the leather breastplate, under the lower edge of the ribcage, and into the man’s heart. He pushed the man off his blade and into another advancing soldier, then caught the haft of the third man’s spear thrust, pushing it down and to the left and casually slashed the man’s throat with the tip of his knife. More quickly than any man should be able to move, he rolled around the man he’d just killed and drove his knife into the ribs on the left side of the fourth guard, grabbed him by the throat before he could fall, and pivoted his body into the path of the spear being driven at him by the fifth man. He slipped past the man whose spear was now impaling a dead man, ducked low to dodge the blade of the sixth guard, and sliced the inside of his thigh to the bone. The fifth man let go of his spear, drew his sword and spun with a powerful slash. The blade missed Jataan P’Tal’s throat by mere inches, while he stood stock-still, waiting for the attack to pass. When it did, he smoothly moved into the man’s now open guard and drove his blade into his heart. He’d killed all six men in the space of four heartbeats, but it would take a few minutes more for some of them to die as their lives literally drained out of them in angry red pools staining the floor.

  Alexander was shocked at the precision of the violence. Everyone stood almost mesmerized by the spectacle. When Jataan P’Tal began to casually walk toward them without missing a beat, their trance broke. Abigail was first to respond with an arrow from her new bow. When she released it, her target was his heart. It leapt from the bow with more speed, power, and deadly purpose than any arrow Alexander had ever seen, but Jataan P’Tal turned sideways and the arrow passed within a fraction of an inch of his chest. He gave Abigail a look of curiosity. It wasn’t anger or indignation but respect. She had come close and he seemed to give her a slight nod even as he came to kill them. The remaining six guards fired another volley of crossbow bolts. He dodged them with a kind of speed and intuition that Alexander knew with icy certainty was driven by deep and powerful magic. In that moment he understood why Mage Gamaliel knew it was unwise to engage this man.

  Behind them, another ball of liquid fire hit the lip of the balcony wall and sprayed a wave of flame through the now shattered balcony doors and into the already burning sitting room. Alexander could hardly believe how quickly the attack had taken place.

  Anatoly barked an order to retreat at the remaining six guards. They obeyed with unusual quickness. Once they were safely in the foyer, Kelvin took one step forward with his great battle hammer and swung a mighty overhead stroke down on the abutment of the glass-encased bridge. The floor beneath them shuddered and the floor of the bridge cracked and split. Jataan P’Tal staggered as the floor of the bridge reverberated under his feet. Glass shattered for twenty feet from the point of impact, sending countless shards raining to the ground below, followed first by one small chunk of the floor, then another, and finally a six-foot section of the bridge fell away, leaving only the trusses below to keep the entire bridge from collapsing and crashing to the ground.

  As he regained his footing, Jataan P’Tal picked up a spear and, in a blinding flash, hurled it at Alexander. It was like nothing Alexander had ever seen or could even imagine. No one could move that fast. The short spear hurtled in a straight line with impossible speed and terrible force. It struck home before Alexander could blink: a clean, direct hit just slightly left of center in the middle of his chest. The impact of the spear tip against the dragon-steel chain knocked Alexander clear off his feet and sent him tumbling across the floor, while the haft of the spear shattered from the rebounded force of the sudden stop.

  Pain shot through Alexander with suffocating intensity. Surely he was dying; no one could survive such violence. He felt his chest and found, to his surprise, that there wasn’t an inch-thick spear haft protruding from it. Once he realized he might not be dying, he started to struggle for breath but it felt like a horse had kicked him.

  He could hear activity in the distance but it sounded very far away and unimportant in the face of the darkness slowly threatening to
swallow him. He looked in the direction of the door just as Lucky tossed a glass orb filled with angry-looking liquid fire onto the bridge. In the same moment, Abigail and Isabel both sent arrows toward the enemy. P’Tal dodged them without much effort. The orb shattered against the ceiling of what was left of the glass tunnel and burst into flames that dripped down across the passageway as if a curtain of fire had been drawn across it.

  Jataan P’Tal stopped and picked up a sword. With one stroke, he cut a gaping gash through the fine wrought-iron web of glasswork that enclosed the bridge and deftly climbed up on top of the bridge to avoid the fire.

  Anatoly and Jack slammed the heavy bound doors shut, dropped the bar in place, and jammed the floor and ceiling pins home. The conflagration coming from the sitting room was growing quickly and sending waves of heat into the foyer.

  Darkness closed in on Alexander’s vision. At last, with great effort, he took a breath. The hot fury of the gasp sent shockwaves of pain through him. He rolled onto his side and saw the spear tip of the weapon that was meant to kill him. It was curled over as if a man with impossible strength had driven it against a heavy plate of hardened steel. The first three inches of the blade were neatly curled around and around into a tight little circle. He closed his eyes and steeled himself for another breath. The shock of the pain was lessened only by the anticipation of it. Alexander retreated into the place within his mind that he’d found during the mana fast: the place where the witness lived, where there was no feeling, consequence, or importance attached to any event. From there he observed his pain with ruthless detachment. He accepted it and focused his will. He needed to act. The enemy would be here soon and he needed to move. With an act of sheer stubbornness, he drew another breath and sat up. Fire ignited within his chest anew.