The Way of the Blade

by Stuart Jaffe

  Back to Tommy, Malja said, “Is that right? Are you practicing magic again?” She knew how horrible she sounded, how hypocritical and wrong. But some attitudes could not be changed overnight.

  Tommy wriggled his arm free and pointed into the dark again.

  “Looks like he’s found whoever we’re looking for,” Fawbry said.

  Tommy raised and lowered his head with hard, emphatic motions. Then he waved for them to follow, and before Malja could protest, he dashed off.

  Malja and Fawbry followed close behind. They rushed down a small hill, crossed a dry riverbed, and climbed a smaller hill. They weaved around the rock formations that jutted from the ground. At length, they reached the edge of a sparse forest that looked more like a failed orchard than a thriving wilderness. Tommy sidestepped behind a dead tree and motioned for the others to do the same.

  Squatting by a tree four feet over, Malja cocked her head in the direction Tommy pointed. Fawbry stood over her, his breathing loud to her ear. She elbowed him, and he scurried off to find his own tree.

  As she turned back, she caught sight of two shadows — no, three — not far off, huddled close. Harsh whispers traveled back and forth between the shadows like a nasty negotiation. One shadow shifted back a step, and the moonlight caught a woman’s figure. She slid back into the dark and pulled out a bag from her robe. The other shadows grabbed the bag and inspected its contents closely.

  Fawbry and Tommy had been right about the secret meeting, but Malja could not hear the whisperings well enough to know what they were discussing. A payoff had been made, but did any of it matter? Secret meetings and payoffs happened all the time in her world. Why should this one be so different? But if, as Fawbry had said, these shadowed figures mentioned Malja or Tommy or even Fawbry, that would change matters.

  We should sneak closer. Just to make sure.

  Malja signaled Tommy that she wanted to push forward. He nodded. She looked the other way for Fawbry and saw him inhaling deeply, arching back, and making a face that could only mean one thing — he was about to sneeze.

  He did his best to muffle the sound. But in the stillness — where was a gust of wind when she needed one? — the short bursting sneeze magnified significantly. All three shadows lifted their heads toward Fawbry.

  Only one thing to do. “Catch them,” Malja commanded and shot toward the woman.

  Not three steps in, a blinding white light flashed. Malja had to drop to the ground. The light pierced straight through her eyes into her brain. Though no sound followed this brightness, Malja heard ringing in her ears.

  She managed to get back up, rubbing her eyes, and stumbling ahead. As her eyes readjusted to the dark, she saw two of the shadows rush in her direction. She readied Viper, though she could only squint enough to see a blurry tree before her.

  The shadows went right past her. Over her, really — leaping or diving, she couldn’t tell. Whatever the case, the two shadows — two magicians — were gone.

  “What happened?” Fawbry said.

  “Some kind of blinding magic to disorient us.” Malja heard the rustle of leaves off to the left. She glimpsed the receding form of the woman. “There,” she said, tearing off into the woods.

  Sharp branches slapped across her body as she sprinted. Moonlight sprinkled in and out of her view, making the dangerous run worse. Her foot snagged a root, and she slammed into the ground. A rock bit a piece off her cheek.

  Back on her feet, Malja sought the woman. Movement off to the right. Malja ran in that direction until she broke through to a clearing.

  A thick, anchor rope had been secured to a massive metal link in the ground. The rope stretched up to a farm skirting the treetops. Halfway up, the woman climbed like an animal born in the trees.

  Malja hopped onto the rope and started after the woman. At first, the rope rose gently, but about a quarter of the way out, it turned steeply upward. And the wind increased.

  Glancing up, she could no longer see the woman. Malja knew she could climb the rope and reach the farm. But by the time she safely arrived, that woman could be anywhere. She could have blended in with the people living up there, or grabbed an autofly and soared away, or simply found a dark place to hide in until Malja passed her by.

  Malja spit on the ground and kicked at the rope. Worse than losing the woman, worse than the fact that the woman had possibly mentioned Malja and definitely ran off like a guilty criminal, Malja had to return to Fawbry and admit that he was right. Something odd had happened.

  Chapter 8

  Javery

  The morning arrived with the distinct, sweet smell of lorrali trees in bloom. No surprise there considering Javery’s sister had them planted one year ago for this exact purpose. After all, in every romantic tale told to little girls, the weddings always began with sweet lorralis in full bloom.

  Javery washed up and put his robe over his shoulder with a pleasant flick of his wrist. Though his first meeting with Malja had not gone as planned, she and her companions had agreed to attend the wedding. He had one more chance, and if it failed, he would ask them to stay one more day. How could they deny him a simple day extra during the wedding of his sister?

  He took his personal autofly and headed up to the Wrenley farm that floated over the western border of Raxholden. Masen Wrenley had offered the use of his large acreage for the ceremony and festivities as a gesture of goodwill toward Shual. That was, of course, the diplomatic way to say that Wrenley wanted Shual to owe him a favor.

  As he flew over the long, colorful stretches of vegetables, Javery pictured his own wedding and how the Wrenleys of Carsite would trip over themselves to make such gestures to him. Someday.

  Javery nearly lost control of his autofly. His wedding was no longer some fuzzy idea far in the future. He had agreed to wed Druzane. Not that he objected to such an incredible woman, but he had to start thinking differently now.

  His body warmed at the idea. His heartbeat increased. Maybe I really love her.

  He landed in an open field next to four autoflys. By midday, that field would be full of autoflys but for the morning, peace surrounded the land. Walking toward the Wrenley farmhouse, a large but modest white home, Javery caught sight of Soralia in the second story window. One of the few great privileges of owning a floating farm — more than one floor to a building.

  I’ll have three, no four floors.

  “Oh, Javery, you look handsome,” Mrs. Wrenley said as he entered the house.

  The three Wrenley boys, two of their girlfriends, and four hired helpers rustled about the downstairs in an orchestrated pandemonium. They hung flowers and poured drinks and tuned instruments and dozens of other small tasks as assigned by their director, Mrs. Wrenley. If they were going to host the Raxholden wedding, then by Carsite and Pali, nobody would have anything but praise to say.

  Javery gave Mrs. Wrenley a peck on the cheek, whispered a thank you, and went upstairs to visit Soralia. Before he reached the door, she jumped out and went to wrap her arms around him. Stuck in the traditional wedding clothes — a thick, purple robe that started at the shoulder and wrapped around until it finished at her feet — she fell over, and he caught her with a laugh. To walk, she would need the help of her maiden — Reety, a close friend to Soralia that Javery knew in passing but never paid much attention to.

  “Jave! I’m so excited you came.” Her eyes glittered, and her smile nearly stretched off her face. Two white juri flowers decorated the curls in her hair, smelling fresh and full of life. “Father had me convinced you might skip the wedding entirely.”

  “Now why would I do that?”

  With a playful tap on the shoulder, she said, “Oh, don’t be like that. I know you’re not all that fond of Canto.”

  “Just because we don’t see the same when it comes to politics, doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for you at your wedding. And him. I can be happy for him, too.”

  She kissed his nose. “You better. I don’t want anything to ruin this day. And that means
no fights with Father, either. In fact, maybe you should stay on the other side of the wedding all day. If you see Father, go in the other direction.” Javery chuckled and went to ruffle her hair. She slapped his hand away. “I had to sit still for two hours to look like this. If you try to touch my hair again —”

  From the dressing room, Reety called out, “You’ll have to deal with me long before anybody else gets hold of you. Now get back here, Si-Si, we’ve still got to paint your face and finish the costume.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Soralia looked to the skies with an exaggerated huff. “You’d think she’s the one having the wedding.”

  A soft voice called from the stairs. “Excuse me. Jave?” Druzane climbed the rest of the way. Her dress robe had flashy stones set at the wrists and a neckline which cut quite low for such a formal occasion. When she saw Soralia, she bowed her head slightly and placed her left hand on her stomach. “May Carsite watch over you on your special day.”

  “Thank you,” Soralia said. Still smiling, her voice took on a less pleasant tone. “I didn’t realize you knew my brother.”

  “Everybody knows your brother.” Druzane looped her arm around Javery’s. “He’s a bright, bold young man who is going to change to world for us all.”

  Javery felt his skin grow hotter, and he fought against the smile on his lips. “That’s nice of you to say.”

  Soralia stared at their linked arms. “Oh. You two are together?”

  “Indeed,” Druzane said, the word sounding false from her mouth. “And now I need to speak with dear Jave privately a moment. Do you mind?”

  With a confused shake of her head, Soralia said, “Not at all. I still have to finish getting ready.” She went back to her dressing room where Reety saved her from another fall and escorted her back to a chair. Then Reety closed the door.

  Druzane clutched Javery’s hand and pulled him into a bedroom further down the hall. She closed the door, spun around, and threw her arms around him. After a deep kiss, she pulled back and batted her eyes. Javery’s body stirred. She had such lovely eyes that could be a bird flying in the crisp, morning air or a snake leading him into a night of dark passions.

  “Let me see it,” she said.

  Javery shook his head. “We can’t. This is my sister’s wedding.”

  Giggling, Druzane said, “Not that. I’ll see that all I want tonight. I’m talking about my necklace.”

  “Necklace?”

  “You made me a promise — one that requires a promise necklace to make official.” Druzane’s smile never faltered, but Javery saw the quiver in her throat.

  “I guess I forgot.”

  She turned her head and looked at him like a scolding parent. “Javery Raxholden, are you trying to back out of our engagement?”

  “No,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulder and looking straight at her. “I simply forgot. Not that you’re at all forgettable, but this is my sister’s day, and I’m trying to focus on her. Isn’t that the important thing?”

  “Of course. But we’re important, too. And don’t you think you’ve been neglected by your family for long enough? This day should be a celebration of you ascending to leadership in this town, and it should have happened long ago, but instead, it’s about Canto bedding your sister. How is that fair?”

  “It’s not, I suppose.”

  “Exactly. You deserve better than being forced to watch Shual parade Canto around as his new son, to be ignored as if you aren’t the one who’s going to save us all from the Scarites.”

  “I know, but —”

  “Then let’s announce our engagement today like you promised. If anything, the act will prove where your family’s loyalties lie. Those that love you, your sister perhaps, will be joyful for you and will see our engagement as a way to enhance Soralia’s wedding, making it an even bigger celebration. Those that despise you, will act against our announcement. And in one moment, you’ll know who in our town supports you, who is against you, who can be swayed, and who must be kept careful watch over.”

  Javery placed a hand on his heart and chuckled. “That’s actually very smart.”

  “I told you it’s important to have a great woman behind you.”

  “But I worry that this will still taint Soralia’s wedding.”

  Druzane kissed him. “You’re sweet to be so caring. Think of this, though — when you rule this country, you’ll have the power to throw her a new wedding celebration, one that exceeds her most fanciful, silly-minded dreams.”

  “Okay,” he said, wanting to press against her harder. “We can make an announcement tonight, and I’ll get you the necklace tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I have an idea.” Druzane opened a little bag she carried and produced a simple but sparkling necklace. “This is a little piece of junk I have. You can use this tonight until you get me a proper promise necklace.” She placed it in his hand, kissed him again, and then rubbed his groin. “I’m so excited. Tonight, after the party, I’m going to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before.” His hand reached for her breast, but she stepped away and wagged a finger at him. “Not until after everything I’ve planned.”

  “There’s more?”

  “I have a very special surprise that’s going to help us get everything we want.”

  Something about her tone sent a cold blast through Javery’s bones. “What are you talking about?”

  “Not to worry. Just promise me that you’ll make the engagement announcement at the Call for Love.”

  “Of course.” Javery had assumed that was the time to do it — right before the final step of the ceremony, the officiator called out for anyone in love to profess their feelings. Often old married couples and young newlyweds used this moment to share their success in love with those being wed. It seemed like the logical time to make the announcement. “But what’s this surprise about?”

  “Don’t you know the meaning of the word surprise?” Again, Javery noticed a nasty bite to her words.

  Shual’s gritty voice called from the hall. “Javery? Where are you?”

  “I have to go,” Javery said. He pecked Druzane on the cheek and tried to ignore all the strange thoughts gnawing at his gut.

  “There you are,” Shual said as Javery walked down the hall. Shual’s formal green robe had a long train with tiny bells attached at the back — each one infused with enough magic to lift the train an inch off the ground. “You’re going to ruin this wedding.” Before Javery could utter a word, Shual headed downstairs and outside. “I expected you here hours ago. How can we get everything set up if the members of this family don’t all do their jobs?”

  Javery scurried to Shual’s side. “Relax, Father. Everything’s going fine. There’s no need for you to do anything but enjoy the day.”

  “It’s comments like that which show me how unprepared you are for any serious political work. Did you know your brother, Canto, started working on his speech over a month ago? Is yours ready? Did you even start it?”

  “Of course, it’s ready. And Canto isn’t my brother, yet.”

  They inspected the ceremonial area — a large square with seating on one half, tables floating with food and drinks on a side, musicians tuning their instruments on the other side, and a clear circle in the other half for the event. Shual counted the rows of chairs that had been laid out and frowned. “We need at least five more rows. Can I trust you to handle that?”

  “I’ll see it gets done.”

  “Canto I can trust. He understands how to work hard and study hard. You go off with your big dreams, but what comes of it? Is that Waypoint contraption running yet? Will it ever?”

  “If I had the support and backing of the town, it would be.”

  “You’re going to blame us, now? You can’t be this foolish. You can’t wait around for me to rescue you from the mess you created.”

  “The Waypoint system is not a mess.”

  “That’s not what it looks like from here.” Guests had started to arrive — th
ey would be coming in all day — and Shual abruptly turned back toward the house. “Tell me you’ve at least secured the god for our fight?”

  “I’ll be accepting her agreement later today.”

  “You know this for certain?”

  “I expect that she’ll —”

  “You expect? That sounds tenuous.” Shual flashed his hand in front of Javery’s face. “No more. I understand exactly how things stand.” He rubbed his nose and pulled at the corner of his eye. “I want you to promise me that you’ll openly welcome Canto into our family. It is vital that we present a united front to the public. Privately, you can hate him all you want, but before the people, we have to be as one. Had you succeeded with the god, this might have been different. I suppose I can only blame myself for that. I should have listened to Canto and stuck with our original plan. Now we’ll have lost respect from other town leaders, and we still have a god to get rid of.”

  “You don’t have to worry about Malja. I know she’ll come around. All I have to do —”

  “Then do it.” Shual whipped his body away, and the floating bells of his train smacked Javery’s legs and jingled.

  As Shual walked off to examine the circle where the ceremony would take place, four autoflys passed overhead. More guests. Javery hunted down a Wrenley boy to make sure five more rows of seats were laid out.

  With that task completed, he found a corner of the kitchen in which no food had been stored, no dirty pots had been stacked, no steam or fire raised the temperature ten degrees, no animal carcasses waited butchering, and no people had been appointed. He sat on a small stool and leaned the back of his head against the cold stone walls. At least another three hours before he could have a drink.

  “Mr. Javery! I haven’t seen you since you were a little boy.” A large lady with dark brown skin and gray hair waddled towards him. “You probably don’t even remember me.”

  Javery forced a bright smile and got to his feet. “I could never forget you, Mrs. Colthworer. You were more than a neighbor. In fact, just hearing your voice brings back the smell of your fresh baked cookies.”