The Way of the Blade

by Stuart Jaffe

  The pressure continued to mount. It tasted like bile in the back of his throat. This would end it. No choice left.

  Tommy’s head jolted up, and he stared straight at Javery.

  “No!” Javery had wanted more. He tried to wrangle the energy back in, but he had lost control. Streams of green magic poured out of him. It hit the ground in miniature explosions and shot off into the air. The Waypoint station debris lifted up and spun like a tornado had captured hold of it. Rocks burst into blue flames. A thick, muddy liquid oozed from every crack in the ground.

  The tornado grew in size, and though Tommy dodged the individual rocks and chunks of wood, he could not escape the high winds. Knocked to the ground, he tried to roll out of the way of more debris, but Javery saw the boy get hit in the arm. That started a cascade of strikes — the legs, the head, the sides, the back.

  Javery felt his body weakening, but he forced more energy out. His arms broke and his neck snapped. He shouted out the pain, yet he still attacked. The energy burst from him slammed into the prone boy, shoving him deeper into the dirt.

  When the tornado broke apart, and the rocks fell back to the ground, Javery hovered over the boy with a smug grin. “You should never have challenged me.”

  Tommy rolled onto his back and gazed at Javery through the veil of blood covering his face.

  Javery opened his hands towards the sky. “I once thought you and I might share this world. You showed so much power. But you think you’re greater than you are. You think all should respect you simply because of your power. It’s not like that. You have to make them respect you. And yet, I still think we could have been friends.” Looking down with a sprinkle of pity, Javery sighed. “I hope you find peace in whatever follows death.”

  Javery thrust out his arms ... and nothing happened. No bones broke. No energy pulsed from his skin. Nothing.

  “Looks like you get a few more minutes to live.” Javery crossed his arms and sneered. He only had to wait long enough to deliver a short burst of magic. Not much. Tommy didn’t have much life left to cling to.

  Except Tommy no longer looked beaten. Bloody and bruised, yes, but not exhausted — not beaten. The boy sat up, keeping his right hand in the ground, and he had a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

  Javery’s stomach twisted as he watched Tommy. Lights flashed on and off Tommy’s body. No, not lights — the boy’s tattoos. But they appeared where no tattoos were. Lines appearing as if lit strongly from inside and then vanishing back into his skin.

  “What are you doing?” Javery demanded.

  Now the boy’s smile grew into a teeth-gritting grin. His entire body lit up, forcing Javery to shield his eyes, and an odd wave thudded into the ground through Tommy’s buried hand. The tattoos faded away, and the boy collapsed onto his back.

  “Sorry,” Javery said. “Your last attempt to defeat me has failed. And now, I promise you, mine won’t.”

  Javery raised his hand once more. He pointed at Tommy to insure that all his magic struck the same point. And his ribs snapped apart.

  The ground near Tommy shook. Before Javery could react, a cloud of dust billowed out from below. He heard a series of short, deep barks and an incessant rattle.

  A wellspiker crawled out from the ground. A thick, snake body and six massive arms. Three enormous, jagged tusks grew from its head, curving in front and meeting at the points.

  No, Javery had time to think. But little more. He couldn’t stop the burst of magic growing inside him, and the wellspiker sensed it with ease.

  The giant creature leaped into the air and speared Javery on its tusks. When it hit the ground, it turned its head skyward, using gravity to secure Javery. Then it took him back underground.

  As they descended, Javery thought of all the times during the fight that Tommy had placed his hand in the ground. He had thought the boy was recouping like himself. But each time, Tommy must have been sending pulses of magic into the ground, luring the wellspiker straight to them.

  Javery smiled. Then he chuckled. Then he laughed. Hard. Even as the motion caused him great pain. Even as he smelled the horrible odor coming off the wellspiker. He laughed.

  He thought of Druzane and Shual. The Pali Witch and his Waypoint system. All his plans. All his dreams. Thwarted by a stupid animal.

  Still, he laughed.

  And he felt his energy rebuilding. He wondered if he would have enough time to put up a fight, or if his life would end this way.

  But he couldn’t stop laughing.

  Chapter 39

  Malja

  “It’s anarchy,” Fawbry said, squatting next to Malja behind two of the tall rock formations that leaned against each other.

  Several hours had passed since everything fell apart. Chaos ruled. Without Harskill around, the Scarites descended into an uncontrolled mob, and their disorder was the only thing giving the Carsites a chance.

  But the Carsites were a scattered mess, too. Canto managed to pull together a group of ten people, but even then, he struggled to maintain order amongst them. Krunlo had not appeared anywhere, and while Canto still had hope, Malja knew better. Krunlo’s body would be found eventually — maybe. At least, he died in combat. She suspected he would like that.

  Malja looked to her right. Tommy rested his head against the rocks. Blood dried on his face, and dirt stuck to the sweat on his body. He had shown up a short while ago, and with the help of a stick and a clear patch of dirt, he explained enough of what happened.

  She tried not to stare at him — not for too long. It hurt, anyway. The poor boy had suffered so much in his life. Not a boy. A man. She had to get comfortable with that soon because he certainly acted like a man.

  Fawbry peeked between the rocks. “I don’t like this.”

  “It’s the only idea I’ve got. And we can’t simply let these people kill each other until nothing remains. That’s what they’ll do.”

  “I know.”

  “Because I’ve seen the Scarite lands, and I can tell you, their hatred runs every bit as deep as the Carsite’s.”

  “I can see that right in front of me.” Fawbry sat back down. “Besides, we all know what anarchy ends up as, and unless we want to see this place turn into Corlin, we’ve got to do something.”

  “Then what’re you arguing about?”

  “I’m not arguing. I’m just saying that I don’t like any of this. Tommy’s just been through a tough ordeal. Your whole idea requires a lot from him.”

  “We all have to do our part.”

  “I’m going to do what you asked. Don’t worry. I won’t like it, though.”

  Malja turned around to peer over the rocks. Looking through her spyglass, she saw plenty of anarchy. Memories threatened to rise, but she shoved them down hard.

  A short distance off, she saw the snake-well and the three leaders standing on the rocks above it — Ten Snakes, Red Head, and One-Eye. A small squad of soldiers surrounded the well. While the rest of the Scarites slaughtered everything in their path, having no trouble turning on each other, this group held together. Unfortunately for Canto, this group outnumbered his loosely-held squad.

  Fawbry shook his head. “If we’re going to use a portal, then why not have Tommy zip you over to a world with a big gun or something? You bring that back and become the law around here.”

  “That’s a horrible plan.”

  “No worse than yours.”

  Malja poked her finger on his chest. “My do-kha will protect us. You do your job, and this will work fine.”

  Fawbry looked across the landscape and shook his head. “You know I’ll do my part.”

  She gave him a consoling pat on the back but finished it with a hard smack. “Okay, then. Get to work, General.”

  From the ground, Fawbry picked up a metal bar he had been carrying as a weapon. He peeked out, one last time, and ran off. Malja counted to ten before sticking her head up — if someone had been watching Fawbry leave, she didn’t want that person catching on that more
than one person hid behind these rocks.

  All looked good. The Scarites around the well appeared to be in a trance as they siphoned energy. The three leaders watched from above, but like those below, they seemed more interested in gaining energy than in pursuing the Carsites. For now.

  Malja checked on Tommy again. The bruises on his arms had faded, and the cut on his head looked like it had happened days ago. She knew he wouldn’t have enough time to fully heal, but even this much progress released some of the tension in her chest.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said, and when her voice didn’t wake him, she turned back to the rocks and her spyglass. “I’ve been thinking about all the killing we’re about to do, and I’ve been trying to make it okay. Even beyond that — all the killing I’ve ever done. I know I’m strong but that doesn’t mean I’m heartless. And I’ve only ever killed to save others. Mostly. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? We do a bunch of killing so that the rest may survive and, with any luck, find peace.

  “You know, there was this time when Fawbry accused me of solving all my problems with my blade. I’m thinking he’s right. That’s my way of living. It’s pure and clear. There is no area that’s confusing or ambiguous. There is only right and wrong.

  “I know what you’d say, if you ever talked. You’d say, ‘But, Malja, what about when those two bump into each other? What about when something is both right and wrong?’ Except that doesn’t exist when you have a blade. One side is going to get cut down, and the other survives. The survivors are the ones who decide what is right and what is wrong.

  “Isn’t that what we do? Isn’t that why we’re not murderers? If ever there’s a day when somebody kills me, then I’ll become the villain. They’ll say that I terrorized the many worlds. And if we let Harskill win, then he’ll be the hero who saved the many worlds. It’s backwards, but it’s true.

  “I’m saying all this to you because I want you to know that I wish I could live some other way, that a life by the blade is the only thing I know, that there hasn’t been a night I didn’t go to sleep dreaming of a better life for you. Seeing you bloodied, knowing that you’ve killed like me — I never wanted that for you. I didn’t save you to turn you into a monster like me. I’m sorry.”

  Light pressure squeezed her arm. Malja flinched back to find Tommy staring up at her, his hand on her forearm. A few tears dribbled down his cheek, but he smiled.

  An hour later, Malja saw a flaming cloth rise into the air. “Fawbry’s ready,” she said, and Tommy popped to his feet. If not for the scar on his forehead, she would have had a difficult time proving he had been injured.

  She took hold of his shoulders and stared straight at him. “You understand your part? You understand you can’t hesitate? No matter what happens with me, you have to do your part.”

  Tommy pulled back his chest and pointed to himself with both hands. He cocked his head to the side and looked at her sideways.

  “No, no. That whole Don’t you trust me?-look isn’t enough. Everything counts on us. Okay? Now, once we’ve killed them, then you can take a moment, but not long, to get ready for the last step. You understand?”

  Nodding, Tommy stepped behind Malja and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “Okay, then.” She took a deep breath and positioned Viper out and to her right side. “When you hear Fawbry, we go.”

  A minute passed. Then another. At first, Fawbry’s attack sounded slim, and she worried he had not been able to find enough men. But soon the roar of angry Carsites grew loud. The Scarites around the snake-well perked up, confused, then displaying their own anger. They rushed off to meet the Carsites, and in moments, Malja heard the clash of a small battle — and an excellent diversion.

  “Now, Tommy. Let’s go.”

  It took him a few seconds, but then the air shuddered. A door-sized portal opened in front of them. Malja followed her own advice — she did not hesitate. With her do-kha protecting them both, she walked through the portal.

  She stepped out onto a rock formation. Ten feet ahead of her stood One-Eye. Leaving Tommy behind, she dashed forward and swung Viper — first across, then back at a diagonal. Two fast strikes, leaving One-Eye in pieces.

  Before the body hit the ground, she felt Tommy tackle her from behind, knocking her off the rock formation. A new portal opened below them, and they fell through.

  One hundred feet over, they appeared above Red Head. He had time to look up and realize what a stupid move looking up had been. He took Viper straight in his face.

  Upon meeting flesh, Malja twisted her wrist, turning Red Head’s head into mush. Tommy never let go of her, and this time, he opened a portal directly in front of her. They stepped through and appeared behind Ten Snakes.

  Malja swept Viper upwards cutting off the five snakes heads on his right side before he could register what had happened. Reacting on instinct, Ten Snakes threw his arm wide as he spun around. Malja ducked, and when she came back up, she brought Viper along his other side.

  But Ten Snakes blocked with his arm. Greenish-black blood spewed out of the dead snakes, making his right side slick but not slowing him down as Malja had hoped. He snarled at her, raised his fists, and lunged.

  Had they been on the ground, she would have had no trouble dodging his clumsy attack. But on the narrow ledge of the rocks with nowhere to go, she had no choice but to take the hit. And Ten Snakes could hit hard. She tried to turn her do-kha into a solid akin to metal, but she failed. The hit shoved the breath from her lungs.

  Malja brought Viper over like an ax, but the punch to her side slowed her movements. Ten Snakes grabbed her wrist. They locked in that position — Malja trying to cut Ten Snakes straight down, Ten Snakes holding her back by the wrist. Neither budged.

  A malicious look filled Ten Snakes’ eyes. The five living snakes on his left side straightened back. Malja pressed harder, not wanting to find out what magic Ten Snakes could still cast, but she couldn’t break his hold.

  The air around the snake heads shuddered. Malja yelled as she pushed down. Ten Snakes yelled back and resisted more. A portal snapped open, and the snake heads burned right off. The open wounds cauterized, and the stench of cooked snake drifted by them. Malja wanted to cheer Tommy on but stayed focused on her enemy. The portal vanished.

  Ten Snakes stumbled back, his mouth agape as he stared at where the portal had been. His hands reached back to where the headless snake bodies hung limp. Malja saw the realization hit Ten Snakes face — he had lost his power, and he had lowered his guard. As a matter of respect, she cut his head clean off in one fast motion, sliding Viper under his jaw and above his neck guard.

  As the head dropped into the snake-well, Malja caught a glimpse of the mother snake residing in the well. Malja had expected a large creature. What she saw was gigantic. An enormous monster that could swallow her whole without much effort.

  Tommy watched too, and she saw doubt cross his face. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “The plan is the same.”

  She whipped out her spyglass and checked on Fawbry. His squad of men still fought but were reduced to hiding, taking a quick shot, running, and hiding again. Any attempt at organizing a concentrated attack appeared to have failed.

  “He can’t hold much longer. You ready?”

  Tommy shook his head as he stared at the changing tattoos on his arm. Malja wanted to rush him, but she had already asked a lot. It was one thing to have him conjure portals rapid fire like he did. But this — this final step required him to cast three completely different spells simultaneously. By comparison, all she had to do was not die.

  Finally, Tommy lifted his head and approached her. His arms, his chest, and the tops of his feet all glowed with tattoos. She pulled him against her, smelling his sweat, feeling the heat of magic pulsing off his body.

  They inched to the edge of the rocks, and Malja kicked Ten Snakes’ headless body over. She gave it one full second to fall, then dived in after it. Tommy gripped tighter as they dropped headfirs
t into the snake-well. Malja raised Viper to lead the way, and Tommy raised his glowing hand.

  The fall took all of four seconds. In the first second, the mother snake surfaced to devour Ten Snakes, its putrid breath pressing into Malja’s face. In the next second, Viper led them straight down the mother snake’s mouth, slicing its tongue and throat like a scythe to wheat. In the third second, they continued down the snake-well, cutting the mother snake in half, its pained, distorted cries echoing off the well walls. In the fourth second, Tommy ignited all of his prepared spells.

  One spell slowed their descent. One spell opened a portal below them. And one spell, the most important spell, sent a shockwave of magical energy straight to the bottom of the well.

  As they slipped through the portal, Malja heard a crack of thunder that sounded as if the world itself had been split asunder. They fell gently to the shoreline on the back edge of the Scarite camp, far enough from the snake-well.

  Malja eased Tommy to the ground. He was unconscious and sweat-soaked, but otherwise, he appeared fine. On the horizon, she saw plumes of smoke rising as if hundreds of gigantic campfires had been lit up.

  “It worked.” She stroked Tommy’s hair. “Just like Harskill said — all the wells are connected. I don’t know what you sent into that one well, but it’s destroying them all. You did it. And now, there’s no more magic for either side to fight with.”

  Eruptions continued to echo into the distance, but at length, a cool silence took over. Only the peaceful hush of the tide rolling in remained.

  Chapter 40

  Malja always enjoyed surprising Fawbry. When he woke up and stumbled to breakfast, she couldn’t hold back her smiles.

  “You certainly have something going on,” he said.

  “Well, it’s been four months, and no new wells have popped up. The Scarites have lost all their snakes, and while I don’t think they’ll ever go back to what they were, they aren’t quite so different now. In fact, other than a few skirmishes, this peace seems to be holding.”