Of the six bars of power he’d had available for spells, he’d just used up a little over two of them to buff himself. This was roughly twice what he’d used before his fight with the Rakshasa back in Faith.
He burst through the tree line and dodged just in time to avoid being swept up in a gout of flame. “Fuck!” Trav took two more quick bounds, assessing the situation even as he darted to the side.
The fact that Najila was still alive was good, but everything else seemed pretty grim. She was obviously wounded, bleeding heavily. The front of her blouse was slick with blood, and she’d taken heavy damage on each limb. There were dead Kin all over the valley where she had always traded enchanted gear, and most of the trees on the opposite side were on fire. A hole had been blown in the treeline to Trav’s right, and craters dotted the ground.
Three feral-looking, heavily muscled Kin were chasing Najila. They were all shrouded in a visible veil of magic, throwing destructive energies. Trav thought the three attackers looked sort of like hyenas, and they kept trying to close with the unarmed Najila with melee weapons. One of them kept blowing fire around the valley, and had accidentally almost taken Trav out the moment he’d arrived.
On the other side of the valley stood a smug-looking male Rakshasa in a robe—wearing the colors of the Church. His fur was red with stripes.
Near Trav, a group of several Dacith pointed wands and rods at Najila. She was too fast for them to hit, but that didn’t stop them. All the rat-like creatures chanted and threw destructive magic at Trav’s friend. A Kin of a different species, something reptilian and wearing a hat, stood near the Dacith. The Kin with the hat had glowing claws raised, maintaining some sort of shield.
Trav immediately understood that all these bastards working together were harrying Najila until she either dropped from exhaustion or blood loss. It looked like she’d already killed a dozen, though. The level she was fighting at was something Trav had never seen before. His hair raised, a physical reaction from the sheer power buzzing through the air.
Any one of the three Kin attacking Najila would likely rip Trav apart in a heartbeat, but she was fighting three at once, and dodging spells. She flew around the valley, using incredible, magic-assisted acrobatics even while wounded. One of the three hyena Kin made a mistake that Trav wouldn’t have even been able to see if he hadn’t enhanced himself.
Najila snarled and threw out a hand, casting a sizzling bolt of white energy at the vulnerable Kin. Before the attack struck, a shield flared, protecting the creature. Its eyes had widened in shock and fear before the shield had materialized. It seemed surprised to still be alive, then narrowed its eyes. Trav reasoned that it hadn’t been responsible for protecting itself.
When Trav used his magical sight and noticed a glow fading from the smug Rakshasa on the other side of the valley, he understood.
This group had come here to kill Najila. They hadn’t brought any Kin powerful enough to face her alone, but they had turned up with a Rakshasa she couldn’t immediately kill, one that could protect the others. It was a dirty trick, but seemed to be effective. Judging from all the dead Kin on the ground and when Trav had first heard combat, this had been going on a while. As impressive as Najila was, she had likely been sharper at the start of the fight.
With the help of Odin’s memories, Trav could tell she was on her last legs now. The amount of power she was giving off, and the abilities she was demonstrating were far above Trav’s level now.
He knew how to help, though. In fact, it would be his pleasure. He really, really hated Dacith, after all.
Trav sprang forward, wind whistling in his ears before he planted his spear through the hat-wearing Kin. Stabbing an enemy in the back wasn’t very honorable, but at that moment, Trav didn’t give a shit.
He summoned Hex, pointed at the nearby Dacith, and before the rat fucks even had time to be concerned, he thundered, “Chain Lightning!” This time, after the first attack, he didn’t pause to see what had happened, he hit them again. “Chain Lightning!”
The entire battlefield suddenly became aware of Trav’s presence, and when the enemy Rakshasa’s eyes landed on him, Trav felt like he’d suddenly been plunged in ice water that weighed a million pounds. The Kin had so much magic power, Trav felt like the air around him had grown so thick he almost couldn’t breathe.
Meanwhile, several more Dacith stepped out of the trees, all grinning nastily at him. Trav swallowed.
He hadn’t been ready for this level of combat. Not even close.
Chapter 12
Trav had a few bars of power left, almost four, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to act for much longer, not with the enemy Rakshasa suppressing him. He did what made the most sense, going for one, big attack that used up all of his remaining magic. Hex came up and through gritted teeth, he announced, “Death Blossom.” As he used his will to push the rune spell into life, he let his eyes run over all his living enemies.
Then magic burst from his body. A halo of purple energy crystalized into the image of a flower with razor-sharp edges—then with a great whooshing crack it broke, and petals of magic shot out like homing missiles.
Trav had experimented with flashy magic before and had decided that most of it wasn’t worthwhile, at least not with the levels of power he had now. This spell had been something new he’d gotten out of Odin’s memories within the last few weeks and had practiced while fishing. He’d taken the time to work on his focus, aim, and magic regeneration.
Normally, Death Blossom would still be a wasteful, energy-guzzling spell that wouldn’t be worth using, but this situation was different. Trav would likely get a single chance to act before he died horribly, so he’d had to make his contribution count.
The purple petals shot from Trav like buzzing arrows of destructive energy, and he just focused on maintaining the spell. Growing pressure from the Rakshasa didn’t matter now, only Trav’s will and his remaining magic. Trav didn’t need to think, just keep juice flowing to his attack. Before the remaining enemy Dacith could even raise their weapons, petals from Trav’s Death Blossom slammed into their heads, punching holes or making their skulls explode.
A petal sped for the enemy Rakshasa, and the big, feline Kin brushed away the destructive energy. But then another came, and another. All the enemy Kin began either defending themselves or dodging Trav’s attack. Meanwhile, Najila was finally left alone, able to breathe for a moment, and it was all she needed.
Moving faster than Trav would have been able to see with unenhanced eyes, she blurred toward one of the distracted jackal Kin, seized his weapon, and tore out his throat with her claws. Then she kicked, and light flashed. The stricken fighter fell to the ground, one shoulder and most of his ribs missing. The wound smoked.
Najila was armed now.
Trav wondered how she hadn’t had a weapon before, but quickly realized she had. Broken blades littered the valley, most of them burned or melted. Trav could only assume that the enemy Rakshasa had been responsible, and right now the bastard was busy protecting himself from Trav’s magic.
The weaker Kin fighters that had stepped out of the trees were all dead. Only the stronger enemies were still alive. Unfortunately, Trav’s available power was running out fast. He could probably only maintain Death Blossom for a few more seconds. “Hurry,” he hissed. He briefly took direct control of two petals from his channeled attack, directing them into the ground near the Rakshasa male’s feet. The white-hot energy blew dirt into the air, superheating parts of it, creating smoke. Trav couldn’t really hurt the fucker, but he could try to blind him.
Maybe Najila had heard Trav. She shot toward the last two jackal Kin, utilizing the fact that Trav’s magic wouldn’t target her. One of the jackals tried to fight back, but without the enemy Rakshasa’s assistance, he fell to Najila’s new sword in seconds. The last jackal tried to flee, but Najila was on him like a flash, her sword going through his chest at the same time her powerful jaws latched onto the back of his neck.
&n
bsp; Trav’s power ran out.
The stricken jackal Kin squealed as it died, but Najila had already disappeared into the smoke. Trav could hear a struggle, and when the smoke cleared he saw his friend struggling with the enemy Rakshasa. She had him in some kind of submission hold from behind, but the two of them were trembling as they fought, and it was obvious that the wounded Najila was ultimately going to lose.
“Trav,” she yelled. Then she took a labored breath and shouted, “Use Shatter!”
“But—”
“Now!” she screamed. “Remember your promise, human! I will die either way!”
Trav felt a strange compulsion, and knew it was magical. His oath had been important after all. But even without it, he could face the reality of the situation and knew what he had to do.
“Shatter” was what he’d named his modified and improved spear. Najila knew its name, and knew what it could do. The spear had already been better than almost anything a Kin on Asgard would have as a basic weapon, but Trav had improved it further. Now there was emberstone attached to the butt of the shaft, protected and shielded by a steel cover, and the magic ran all the way to the tip.
Shatter had a twin effect now, one that was very powerful, but also very taxing on the weapon. If Trav willed it, the spear could penetrate defenses—both magical and mundane—and disrupt his target’s magical field. He’d gotten the idea from the rapier he’d made for Narnaste, and his past fight against a flesh golem.
The enchantment Trav had placed on Shatter could be used six times a day at its lowest setting, once at its highest setting, or any combination in between. But using its power any more than this per day would risk destroying the spear.
Trav didn’t like what Najila was begging him to do, but he truly understood, and he accepted it. The world seemed to hold its breath, growing silent as he sprang forward. The Rakshasa male didn’t recognize the danger until the last moment. His head turned and his eyes bored into Trav, creating pressure and suppression through sheer force of power or will, but it was too late.
Shatter had already been activated at full power. Trav’s hands were locked on the shaft, and he was barreling forward with his most powerful leap, all his body weight behind his thrust. The force of the Rakshasa’s gaze hit, freezing him, but inertia and gravity took care of the rest.
Shatter’s point punched through the Rakshasa’s armor and body like it was made of wet paper, all the way through. Behind his enemy, Trav saw Najila stiffen and his heart dropped. Rage bloomed in his heart, fueled by despair, and the moment his body was free to move, his hand dropped to his emberstone-tipped dagger.
Trav drew his short blade and slammed it into the red-furred Rakshasa twice before his stricken enemy managed to kick him away. The blow had been glancing, not a solid strike in the slightest, but still almost broke all the ribs on one side of Trav’s body. He rolled across the ground, trying his best to protect his body.
A big rock was moving right toward his head, but there wasn’t much he could do other than try to slow himself down. Luckily, when he hit, it didn’t kill him, but it did make him see stars for a while until he shakily got to his feet. Without the magical buffs he’d cast on himself before racing here, either the kick or the rock probably would have killed him.
Trav must have been knocked unconscious for a moment, because the big male Rakshasa was already dead. Najila had moved out from under the corpse, and also pulled Shatter out of her own body. The powerful Kin woman slowly stood. She bled terribly, and one leg trembled, but she met Trav’s eyes with a steady gaze.
“Oh no.” Trav felt sick when he saw the state of his friend’s ruined body. Shatter had gone right through her stomach. He stumbled over and croaked, “What are you doing! You shouldn’t have taken it out. I can go get bandages—”
“No. Do not dishonor either of us by acting weak and stupid, Travis Sterling,” admonished Najila. “I was poisoned and I was dying already. Now it is just more obvious. I am glad you missed my lungs so we could speak.”
After a slow nod, Trav conceded the point. “You’re right. Okay, what happened?”
“Ambushed, obviously. Netish made me demonstrate some of the enchanted wands, and took the opportunity to blow a cloud of poison on me at the same time that the Dacith used darts. I was able to avoid most of it, but some of the poison got me. These whorescum,” she said, kicking the body of a jackal Kin, “were using poisoned blades too. Oh yes, it’s some terrible, evil concoction. Nothing they did would have been enough to kill me by itself, but the combination was unfortunately very effective. I cannot stay awake much longer.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was probably only a matter of time before they turned on me. Alive, I was a great liability, even as a slave making weapons. In fact, only the fact I’d been so wary allowed me to live long enough to fight back in the first place today.”
She shuddered and slowly lowered herself to a sitting position. Trav paled as he imagined how much pain she must be in. Behind her, the fire among the trees began to spread. “Sit,” she instructed, patting the ground beside her. Trav sat.
Najila stared at the smoke-filled sky. “The last couple of weeks have been some of the best of my life, because I knew that I did not have to worry about Rahim so much. Thank you for making your promise to watch after him.”
“Of course.” Trav’s eyes had grown wet, and he was having trouble speaking. He’d seen a lot of death on Asgard, but the way Najila was facing it now, unflinching, was brave—perhaps even noble.
“There is something you must know, Travis Sterling, Odin mantle-bearer. I do not wish to tell you, though.”
“What?”
“I just said I do not wish to tell you.” She smiled softly.
“You mentioned it, so you are going to tell me anyway, though, right?”
“Yes. Rahim’s father is your wife’s murderer.”
“I know.”
She turned in surprise, making a fresh wave of blood gush from her wounds. “You did?”
“I’d always suspected, and after you told me about how the Kyvendi government is run, I was pretty sure. But I would be the last person to judge a boy by his father. My cousin’s father, Josh Sterling, is a piece of shit. Ash and I have had our differences, but I never held his father, my uncle against him. It wasn’t his fault.”
“I see.” She coughed wetly. “And you will honor your promise? You will not abandon Rahim?”
“Yes.” Trav grinned without humor. “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”
“There is always a choice, but there are usually consequences too.” Najila leaned back slowly until she was on her back with her knees up. “I can’t feel anything anymore. The time is probably soon. Rahim is always correct with his predictions, but he was really accurate this time, wasn’t he? You truly did me a great service, gave me what I wanted with all my heart. Netish is dead—”
“That was Netish? The same one that tried to kill Rahim before, right before you escaped Kyvendi?”
She grinned, showing bloody fangs. “Yes! And hopefully the mangy swine will rot in the underworld. But more importantly, I know that Rahim won’t be alone now. I can rest easy.”
Trav choked out, “I’m—Thank you for saving my life.”
“Thank you for saving my future, my friend Travis Sterling. You are not so bad for a human.”
Trav turned to speak, but shut his mouth. He slowly closed Najila’s sightless eyes and whispered, “You weren’t so bad for a Rakshasa, either.”
***
The forest was on fire, and it was spreading quickly. Trav had gathered up what enchanted weapons and anything of value that he’d found scattered around the valley, at least what he could easily carry, then he’d picked up Najila’s corpse and headed back to the cabin. It was a shame he had to leave behind so many valuable magical artifacts, but if he really needed to, he could just make more. He was confident now that he could at least match any enchanted items produced on
Asgard.
Najila’s blood was running down his body, and her weight was incredible, but there was no way he was going to leave his friend in the killing field with all the would-be assassins. There was no way he would have been able to manage this feat without the magical enhancements he’d cast on himself.
Trav pushed himself, sweat and gore running down his face. His muscles strained. Smoke poured between trees, and depending on how the wind was blowing, he had to hold his breath or risk passing out. His heart felt like a stone. There would be time to grieve later.
When Trav got back to the cabin, he hurried inside, laying Najila’s body respectfully on the kitchen table. Then he grabbed a sheet off the bed, making a bag out of the fabric, and began cramming useful objects and tools into the makeshift container. He didn’t have much time left before his magical, enhanced strength faded. After that, he’d still be stronger than a normal human, but it had already been a long day.
Once he had a good first load, Trav hurried down the stone steps, opening the door to the workshop. He’d expected to find Rahim standing with a weapon, prepared to defend himself, but instead, the boy was curled up, crying in the corner.
He must know. Trav became aware of his appearance, how gruesome he must look covered in blood, dirt, and burns.
“Mister Trav, my mother. She’s dead isn’t she?”
“Yes. But we are safe, and she was at peace with how things turned out.” Trav was glad that telling the truth was probably the most comforting thing he could think to do.
“I—” Sobs echoed around the room.
“Your mother’s body is in the cabin. The forest is on fire and I don’t think we can save the building. I’m out of power and it’s safer to stay down here. Do you—” Trav felt awkward, which on top of his adrenaline and his own grief, made him feel lightheaded. “Do you want to go up and say goodbye?”
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