The Way of the Blade

by Stuart Jaffe

  She counted around thirty Scarites with Ten Snakes in the lead. While most ignored the Carsite air force and continued towards the town, seven broke off to engage. Neither side had ever fought in the air like this, so the initial conflict looked rather clumsy.

  The autoflys made wide turns, sweeping around their opponents while trying to make a fast pass from behind. The Scarites, however, attempted to fight as if they were on the ground — trying to punch or grapple the Carsites as they flew in circles. From Malja’s vantage, they looked like irate hunters waving off a swarm of stinging insects.

  That all changed when one Carsite finally got his confidence and charged his enemy head-on. The Scarite held his position, readying his snakes. Seconds before reaching his target, the Carsite accelerated and pulled out his sword, its metal flashing against the morning sun. He swung down as he passed by the surprised Scarite and cut off the head of one snake.

  The Scarite screamed and the rest of the army paused to look back. Malja tapped her finger against the metal tube she held. Forget about your friend. Keep coming toward us. But Ten Snakes ordered another ten of his soldiers to turn back and help defeat the autoflys.

  “Canto, light up one green rocket,” Malja said.

  As Canto prepared the rocket, she heard Javery mutter to himself. At least, the man didn’t voice his objection any louder. She didn’t have the time or desire to handhold a virgin warrior.

  With a loud crack, the green firework lit up the sky. Malja leaned over the wall and checked that the reinforcements heeded the signal. Five autoflys lifted into the air and headed straight for the battle.

  She tossed her braid back over her shoulder and brought the spyglass back up to her eye. The Carsite pilots had come to life since the actions of their teammate. All of them bared their swords. They flew in fast, zipping around the Scarites and hacking as they passed by. When they severed enough snake heads, that Scarite lost his ability to fly. Watching the enemy drop to the unmerciful ground below emboldened the reinforcements.

  “They’re doing it,” Javery said. “Our boys are really winning.”

  Malja caught sight of Ten Snakes sending the rest of the group back. Damn. She hadn’t expected her side to perform so well.

  Using the spyglass, she searched among the swooping and diving and looping bodies for the one clad in a do-kha — Harskill. But she saw no sign of him. As she suspected, he probably wouldn’t show up until the Scarites had either taken the town or needed the help of their god to finish the assault.

  Ten Snakes bellowed an order and all the Scarites flew higher towards the clouds. Malja heard it as a dull drumbeat, but she knew the tone too well. Another command and the Scarites flipped back with their snakes at the ready.

  “Call them back!” Malja ordered and Canto fumbled through the chest for the appropriate firework.

  Before Canto could light the rocket, the snakes spewed out their various magic. Fire, lightning, and stones cascaded upon the Carsite pilots drowning them in pain. Torrents of wind and spirals of water struck them from the side leaving no escape. Four autoflys plummeted to the ground, trailing gray smoke and spinning chunks of flaming debris.

  Ten Snakes singled out a Carsite pilot, and all ten of his snakes worked their magic together. The pilot clutched at his throat. Malja turned away but not before catching a glimpse of the pilot erupting a volcano of snakes from his insides.

  “More are coming,” Javery said, pointing with one hand while watching through his spyglass with the other.

  Malja peered through her own to see the second wave of the army approach. This group of snake-magicians each carried another in his arms. The carried men had only one or two snakes on their bodies. “Looks like they need at least three to fly.”

  They passed the dissipating smoke from the previous battle and flew steadily ahead. As they neared the town, the magicians dropped their cargo and rose high into the clouds. The dropped men leaned into their fall, face first, arms back, like a bullet dropped from a tall tree.

  Right before they hit the ground, their snakes whipped around and hissed out magic. Each soldier slammed into a thick barrier that slowed them to a safe landing.

  Malja peered down at the town. “Canto?”

  “Rockets at the ready — blue and green.”

  Javery gasped. “Blue and green? I thought that was just to make them feel useful. You’re going to send them into battle. They’ll be slaughtered.” Javery shook his finger at her. “You expected this, didn’t you? No, you planned it this way. We have plenty more autoflys. We should’ve been fighting every last man in the air.”

  Part of Malja wanted to break that finger, but she refrained. Javery was right. She ignored the aerial battle because she understood a land fight far better. “The air is important, but they can’t hold a town without soldiers on the ground. For now, let them have the air. We’ll kill everything that comes near the town.” She pointed to Canto, and he shot off the rockets.

  Below, Malja saw Fawbry lead a squad of old men and women into the trenches. Each person held a rifle and wore wellspiker-hide armor. They took positions and waited.

  Good job, Fawbry. He had learned a lot during his time with her. The fact that he had his squad hold back, waiting for the enemy to not only be in range but to be so close that even the worst shot among his squad would hit a target, spoke highly of how far he had come. An uncomfortable idea poked at her — should she be proud of Fawbry becoming a better killer? — but she pushed it down. Too many immediate concerns to deal with.

  The two-snake Scarites sprinted toward the town. They lacked the discipline that Fawbry had managed to get out of his squad. The Scarites used their snake-magic, but the fireballs fell short of the trenches and the lightning arced into trees and brush.

  Fawbry screamed a command, and his squad opened fire. From her vantage, the battle sounded like a game. The rifle fire rattled no louder than hitting a rock with a stick over and over. The anguished cries became tiny, odd noises drifting on the wind. Yet Malja’s extensive battle experience let her imagine the reality far too clearly.

  As the Scarites fell, those behind stumbled over the bodies and continued the assault. Fawbry had his squad working in two teams. As one aimed and fired, the other prepped their weapons for another shot. The Scarites, however, shot freely, keeping the pressure on those in the trenches.

  “There are so many,” Canto said.

  Malja nodded. Too many. It appeared that Fawbry had the same thought. He called out an order, and the squad retreated from the trenches. They headed back down the street, seeking refuge behind the barricades spread throughout the town.

  Tommy and Hirasa led the squad of young women. They carried the last of the rifles and swords. The two squads had to hold.

  Rifles shot and snake-magic hissed. Scarites fell to the ground, blood spurting from bullet holes. The bodies of two Carsite men burned near the abandoned trenches.

  Malja checked the skies again. Where was Harskill?

  Down below, Malja saw Tommy sit on the ground. Even with her spyglass she could not see the particulars, but she knew that he was focusing on his tattoos. It would have to be a simple spell, something he could cast quickly. As if hearing her thoughts, vines squirmed out of the ground, tangling around the Scarites, constricting their throats, and discarding them like waste.

  “Good boy,” Malja said. “Canto, Javery, let’s go.”

  “Go where?” Javery asked.

  As she packed up and headed for the autofly, she said, “Tommy’s magic will keep the Scarites busy long enough for us to get down there to help.”

  “You’ll help, sure, but what can Canto and I do? We’re not warriors.”

  Canto shoved Javery to the ground. “You think our old people are warriors? You think those girls are warriors?”

  “I only meant that we’re thinkers, politicians, builders.”

  Canto scowled and stomped off toward Malja. She watched until she knew Javery would not be joining them. As s
he climbed aboard the autofly, she said to Canto, “Get us down there as fast as possible. I don’t mind a few bruises if that’s the kind of trip it has to be.”

  He didn’t wait for her to be seated. She held tight to a railing that ran around the cab of the autofly as Canto dropped towards the town. Wood smoke had finally drifted their way, obscuring their view and filling the air with its rich aroma. Another smell lingered, as well, one that caused Canto to wrinkle his nose and pull away. “What is that?” he asked.

  Malja kept her eyes on the flashes of light from rifle fire. “Flesh,” she said.

  As they got below the wood smoke, Malja pointed out a position behind the Scarites. Canto set the autofly down and pulled out a sword he had concealed beneath the seat. When Malja raised an eyebrow, he said, “You didn’t think I’d stay back here, did you?”

  She couldn’t help raising the corner of her mouth. Then she pulled out Viper and all amusement left her. “We run up from behind and cut apart anything that gets in our way. No shouting, no laughter, no noise. The longer it takes them to figure out that something is wrong, the more of them we’ll kill. Understand?”

  “I get to kill Scarites. That’s all I need.”

  Malja broke into a steady run, holding Viper at her side, blade horizontal with the ground. The first Scarite to appear never heard her. She dashed right by him, her blade cutting through his waist before he even saw her. As the two sections of his body toppled to the ground, she had already reached another Scarite.

  Three more fell before she heard a cry — Canto had failed to kill one of them and that Scarite screamed until his voice cracked. “Enemy at the rear! Enemy at the —” Canto decapitated him in one swift stroke.

  Most of the Scarites on the ground turned to see what had happened. Fawbry, Hirasa, and Tommy took full advantage, sending out a stream of bullets and magic that dropped another five soldiers. Malja and Canto cut down two more. They had this small part of the Scarite army pinched.

  One Scarite with brown snakes jumped straight for Malja. She swiped Viper at him, but he deftly evaded the blade and rolled on the ground. His snakes hissed as they reared back to attack.

  Malja charged forward, and the surprised Scarite flinched. No doubt he had become used to his opponents seeking a way to dodge his snake-magic, but this time, his opponent shortened the distance between them. Malja saw the thoughts race across his brow — confusion, then indecision, then recognition, and finally the plan to push forward with his attack. All of it happened in a second, but that was far too long. Three firm strikes from Viper, and the Scarite’s body fell apart piece by piece.

  A Scarite with six snakes and his bald head painted red yelled, “Teams two and seven, handle the rear.” Red Head then turned his back on Malja and pointed ahead. “Everyone else get that town!”

  Eight men turned towards Malja and Canto. The confusion of battle had aided her, but now these eight refrained from independent attacks that she could handle one at a time. They moved in cautiously, their snakes weaving in a hypnotic taunt. Behind them, rifles fired and magic hissed.

  “What are we going to do?” Canto asked.

  Malja grinned. “Hirasa! Now!”

  Nine women flew into the air at a sharp angle. Each women held a metal rod in one hand and a rock in the other. They passed over the Scarite army and dropped their rocks. Not much damage, but it made for a good disturbance. A few of the eight facing Malja were also struck by the rocks, which served to disrupt their concentration and made the eight pause as they wondered what their opponents had accomplished.

  Apparently, Canto had similar thoughts. “That was Hirasa’s big plan? Javery had been right. We should never have permitted them access to the Great Well.”

  “Focus on the fight,” Malja said.

  Once the women went beyond the Scarites, they let go of their metal rods. Instead of dropping hard to be squashed into the ground, they descended gently, landing behind Malja.

  “Ready to assist you,” Hirasa said. From her pocket, she discarded a small metal square that floated like feathers. As she unsheathed her sword, the other women did the same.

  “My apologies,” Canto said. “Brilliant.”

  “Attack!” Malja commanded, and they rushed forward with a roaring battle cry.

  The eight Scarites shouted their own battle cry and lay into Malja’s team with fury. The clash of sword against snake met with a metallic clang. Malja felt Viper hit the flesh of a Scarite, but a spark flashed and vibrations ran up her arm.

  They weren’t cautious before. They were creating some kind of magic armor.

  Protecting themselves with armor prevented the Scarites from using their elemental snake magic — but they could still punch. The Scarite Malja faced would block Viper with one forearm while punching with the other. The blows landed on her side, knocking air from her lungs and sending ripples of pain through her abdomen.

  Twice she swung Viper, and twice she paid for the attack with punches in her side and arm. Canto, Hirasa and the others all met similar complications. Malja jumped back to put some distance between her and her attacker.

  In the seconds it took the Scarite to close the distance, Malja’s trained eyes took in his stance, his lead arm, and most importantly, the snakes. As the lead arm raised to block an expected strike, she knew the back arm would be coming round with a punch. Knowing where the blow would come from made it simple to evade and gave her another breath of time to watch those snakes. Something was different.

  The eyes!

  Each snake had shut its eyes. Malja guessed this had to do with concentrating hard enough to keep the magic armor conjured — which meant she had found a vulnerability.

  She jumped back again, and this time, she hauled Viper overhead in a clear attack that even the slowest opponent could see coming. As expected, the Scarite raised his forearm to block. But before the clash of sword and magic armor occurred, Malja twisted her body, spinning around backwards and taking Viper in different direction. Rather than flip Viper so the blade would hit, she used the hilt to thwack the first snake head she saw.

  The snake’s eyes popped open, and the Scarite grunted as if struck. Malja dropped low to the ground to avoid the Scarite’s wild, swinging fist and arced Viper upward, cutting the snake in half and then slicing into the Scarite’s side. As she shoved back up to her feet, she pushed Viper through the rest of her enemy, leaving nothing living behind.

  She opened her mouth to yell out instructions, but Hirasa had already seen what Malja had done and informed the others. Canto disposed of the last of the eight Scarites and pointed to the young women. “Press on,” he commanded. They darted ahead to cause more trouble for the Scarites.

  Malja took a step to follow when she caught a glint of light in the corner of her eye. Gazing upward toward the source, her heart dropped into her chest like an icy ball. Harskill. He stood on the edge of the Hantlia farm and stared straight back at her. In his left hand, he held a long, straight sword with a blue tassel tied to the hilt. In his right hand, he held Rewt Hantlia by the neck.

  She dashed off to the side where several autoflys waited. Most were too damaged to fly, and their good parts had been scavenged for the other autoflys, but Malja only needed one that could get her up to that farm. She tried four before she found one that worked.

  The metal wheezed as it lifted off the ground, and the controls shimmered in her hands. But it flew. Slow enough to be an easy target, but Harskill’s steady eye on her told her enough — nobody would touch her. He had claimed the fight with her. Possibly before the Scarites ever attacked.

  While the autofly whined and spewed out dark smoke, Malja steered toward the farm. As she came close, Harskill tucked the boy under his arm like a ball and darted across a field. Malja pushed the autofly to accelerate, and the machine grudgingly performed. She rose high enough to see that Harskill headed straight for the far end of the small farm, but he showed no sign of stopping.

  And he jumped.

 
; Rewt’s shrill cry trailed them as they crossed a long breadth of air. Impossibly long. Malja had never seen a person jump so far without the aid of magic.

  No. Not magic. The do-kha.

  They dropped onto a small floating island, causing a puff of dust around Harskill’s feet as if he were a dancer with the lightest of touches. Malja snarled and landed the autofly a healthy distance from him. She exited the craft, pulled out Viper, and slid into a fighting stance.

  She surveyed the area — she stood in a graveyard. Rows and rows of markers filled the island like a bizarre farm of the dead. Each marker had been made of wood and shaped into a simple, human figure. On the head of each marker, the Carsites had placed a drawing of the person buried there. Hundreds of faces stared at Malja.

  Harskill moved a few steps closer. “I’m sorry. Do the graves bother you?”

  Malja ignored the comment and focused on Harskill as an opponent. Though they had seen each other only weeks before in the world of Corlin, he looked older. His hair had grayed more, and the cracks around his mouth had deepened. He still kept immaculate care of his appearance, and his do-kha accentuated his strong physique. In another life, he would have been an attractive man.

  “Are you really going to hide behind that boy?” she asked.

  Harskill released his grip on Rewt, and the boy bolted toward Malja. He tripped on his own feet and fumbled to regain his balance, but he made it to her side.

  Without taking her eyes off Harskill, she said to Rewt, “Take that autofly. Get on the ground and tell Fawbry or Tommy that I’ve got Harskill.” Then as an afterthought, she added, “You okay?”

  Rewt hesitated. From the corner of her eye, Malja swore she saw him shake his head, and then he followed her instructions. She waited until the autofly’s incessant whine receded beneath the graveyard island. Then she said to Harskill, “Order your army back.”

  Harskill grinned. “You never cease to intrigue me.”

  “There’s no need for any of this. You don’t really care about the outcome anyway. It’s all an experiment, isn’t it?”