Anoni concentrated on a special stone in her collection. Its spell snapped into place. She was connected with all of the Dragons at once. It was a tiring spell, but it made raids like this possible over the last year. Though normally with more Dragons at their backs...With a small added bit of will, Anoni brought Corin into the circuit.
Giovicci’s voice came into her mind. The sentries around the horses are dead. I might have found Nightswift. Hurry.
Anoni called to Yupendra. How does it look from up there?
They are still acting normally, he replied.
Anoni turned her attention to their distraction. Wix are you ready?
Wicks are lit, he confirmed, chuckling.
Go! commanded Anoni. She saw through Yupendra’s eyes the moment when three flares of fire burst through the air as the flames on the carts took hold. Immediately there were shouts and running feet heard throughout the camp. Anoni and Arjent ducked behind one of the tents as its occupant stumbled to see what the problem was. All right, here we go, thought Anoni, and then gave them the signal. Arjent and Anoni rushed into the first tent, swords drawn.
Inside, there were three marine sergeants half-dressed on camp cots. Arjent hit the first in the neck with a throwing knife, but the second managed to get his sword drawn. He savagely attacked Anoni. The third punched Arjent in the face and dove for his sword on the farther cot.
Arjent, get into the other tent. We need to get Copelia, she ordered, glad that mind speak didn’t take air because the second sergeant was an accomplished swordsman and was forty pounds heavier than her.
Right, boss, he said, grabbing the third marine’s sword hand and breaking the wrist. Arjent ducked back through the tent flap, as Anoni tried to get a decent arm swing. The tent was not large enough for any of the combatants to make use of their range. Anoni watched as the marine with the broken wrist awkwardly grabbed his sword with his off hand. Anoni drew a long dagger and with a smile she faced them, a weapon in each hand held away from her sides.
Fast, she feinted at the second marine’s face with the sword and parried a clumsy lunge by the hurt one. She backed into a tent pole by mistake and thought, All right. Let’s take this outside. Anoni retreated through the tent flap, leading the marines.
Horses are freed. Nightswift is coming for her, came Giovicci’s disgruntled call.
Light the marines, Anoni directed, dodging a sideswipe at her midsection as she got clear of the tent. Rally to Wix.
Anoni, I need you, Arjent called.
Anoni fainted to the left, which the second marine was fast enough to counter. She lunged sideways at the injured one, taking him down with a well-placed shoulder to the solar plexus and a dagger to the eye on the way down. Rolling clear, she kicked the second marine’s downward sweeping blade, deflecting it with her boot sole. In the moment he took to recover, she was up, and ran him through.
Anoni! It was Arjent, frantic. Turning, she dove into the other tent, activating her shimmering bandit disguise at the same time. What she saw stopped her short. Arjent was being held by the squad commander, a bronze dagger at his throat. Copelia was manacled hand and foot, chained to the corner of a stone table. On the table was a mini shrine, with a small fire in a bronze incense burner. The air smelled of burned flesh and bitter incense. There were candles and a bronze statue of a man that was carved with rays radiating out of his head. The sight of the statue made her blood run cold.
Oh shit! We’re in trouble. Oh shit oh shit oh shit, Anoni thought frantically. Aloud she said, “Let them go and we let you live.”
“Surrender to the might of the imperium and you will get a fair trial,” the commander said without batting an eye.
“How about, you let him go and you get to fight me. He’s just a child you know. Not really a challenge,” she said. Silently she added, Yupendra, can you see the east side of the tent?
Yes, boss, came Yupendra’s solidly calm mind voice.
“I didn’t think Ozuk could talk. I’d rather kill you myself anyway,” the marine said, throwing Arjent aside. The marine went into the guard position.
Arjent, you’re on locks, she commanded. Yupendra, can you hit him from five hundred yards? Anoni asked.
Yes. Get him out of the tent, replied Yupendra.
Anoni moved in on the commander with single-minded determination. Just then, another marine ran through the tent flap.
“Sir, the supply carts are burning and the...” the officer stopped, taking in the situation and drawing his sword. Another marine pushed in after him, armed with a spear.
Always gotta be a challenge, she thought. Anoni backtracked to get all three marines in front of her.
I’m coming, she heard, but couldn’t tell who it was. The commander lunged, trying to use her distraction to his advantage. She barely blocked it, twisting a scoop cut that slit the wrist of the commander and then kicked him into the spear holder. But the commander ignored the blood, holding onto his sword. The young officer kicked at her and she dodged to the right. The spear holder dove in and she felt the sickening impact in her chest and then she was on the ground, pinned like a boar. It felt like she’d been kicked hard by a horse right in the lungs and it took her a long moment to catch her breath. The spear holder couldn’t figure out what to do with the shining Ozuk he thought he had pinned and he backed off. She yanked the spear away from the wound. She wasn’t dead, so she figured it hadn’t gone through the chain mail. She slashed at the marine with her sword to get him to back up and give her enough room. As the spear holder desperately tried to find another weapon, she rose, found her dagger and drove it into his heart. She pushed him into his commander, sending them stumbling. Glancing around quickly, she saw Copelia wasn’t free yet. She took a deep breath to gather herself, and she sheathed her sword and drew a second dagger. Time to put teaching to practice.
Arjent was busy using his lock picks on the manacles keeping Copelia chained up. The metal bands were too tight and had cut into Copelia’s wrists and ankles, the blood getting in his way. Copelia’s eyes were red from weeping and her face was bruised from a beating.
“Hurry. Please hurry,” she whispered through cracked lips.
“It’ll be okay,” he mumbled back.
***
Safiro Wilds, Near Almacenista
Corin
Corin got himself down the tree in a barely controlled fall. He had seen the statue in Anoni’s mind and knew why she was suddenly so afraid. The rayed man, Califf, was the wrathful sun-god who had scoured the world with fire. The Califfites were said to be extinct, but any Terastaian child knew to fear them. It was whispered that they channeled his burning corruptive power.
Corin ran faster than he had ever ran before. In moments he was in the camp surrounded by the glowing disguised Dragons fighting the marines, the stampeding horses, and the burning equipment. It was silent, his whole mind was focused on Anoni’s eyes and ears. He saw a dagger come down for her heart. With a burst of speed he rounded the second tent and ran to the east side. With his sword, he slit the canvas and peered into the opening. Anoni clashed once more with the remaining two marines. The three struggled, arms and swords locked.
“Give them a push,” Corin said through the communion stone. She spun, throwing the two men in his direction. Corin grabbed past the weapons, clasping the wrist of a marine in each hand, and rolled backward using his feet and his momentum to vault the men through the air over him. Both men cleared the tent and landed in a tangle in the grass. Anoni helped him up.
“Nicely done,” she said and then braced to re-engage the marines. Before the marines could take a step back toward the tent, two small thuds accompanied long arrows going through the marines. “Thank you, Yupendra,” she muttered. Arjent picked up Copelia and cradled her against his chest. The girl cried out once and then went silent. Anoni looked around and said, “Time to leave. I think we’ve done enough damage.”
In his mind Corin heard Anoni say, Everyone retreat. As fast as safely possible
. Anybody need help?
We’re fine, boss. See you at the rallying point, Wix said.
Anoni kicked over the shrine, and set the tent ablaze behind them. She took off the glowing disguise. Outside, they ran across two marines, but she dispatched them in the moment of surprise. The morning light was just starting to clearly filter through the trunks of the forest, illuminating the smoke-clogged air. A hulking shadow loomed up out of the smoke. Only the whickering kept Anoni from slashing it with her sword. Nightswift nudged his mistress in Arjent’s arms. Copelia reached out to the stallion with relief, tears slipping down her face. Anoni quickly motioned Arjent to put her on the horse. The stallion kept unnaturally still. Grimacing but determined, Copelia settled herself, and rode after them as they stole clear of the camp as the last of the morning mist burned away in the sun.
***
Safiro Wilds, Near Almacenista
Vansainté
Vansainté circled the marines and found the road to Almacenista in the lightening predawn. His mare, Sachica, took to the road, lengthening her strides, flattening her neck into a straight line. He rode high over her shoulders, his body hugging her close to reduce wind resistance. Free of the forest, she could show her speed. Her black mane whipped in his face. He gave a quick prayer of thanks to Mishi that after the first few minutes of having a golden glowing thing in her peripheral vision, the mare settled down and seemed to use the glowing arm to her advantage, even using the light to see the dangers on the forest floor.
He raced the sun at his back, the road a blur under the mare’s feet. The only sounds were her hoof beats on the road and his own rough breathing. The morning birds were silent. He could smell the sea brine and wood smoke. As tired as he was, he slipped into half-consciousness, listening in on Anoni and the Dragons sneaking up on the camp. They were getting closer to Copelia every step, as he was getting farther and farther away. Bitterness for Anoni’s decision was quickly pushed away. If Anoni had one curse, it was that she couldn’t be in two places at once. He imagined her trying to make this run against the spin of the earth and the coming of the day. Anoni might be the best sword fighter turned out by Oruno in the last century, but her classmates had voted her most likely to die from falling from horseback.
A huge dark bulk appeared in the morning mist, and he became aware of the sound of the surf. The rocky pile that Almacenista was built on was only minutes away. Vansainté concentrated on the bandit disguise he had used on the raids with Anoni on the treasuries feeling the warmth as it engulfed him and his horse. They glowed silver as a ghost. The illusion failed at his arm; it still shone a clashing gold. The disguise sputtered and failed, leaving him normal again except for the arm. He muffled a curse and kept urging Sachica faster.
The fifty-foot city wall loomed up ahead, coming clearer as he neared. Watch fires burned atop the wall. Thankfully, the gates were still closed. A quick glance told him the sun was a line of gold on the horizon. He reined Sachica in at the gate and hailed the gatekeepers. There was no reply. Backing his mare up so he could see the guards on the wall, he tried again.
“Gate don’t open till full dawn, man! Quiet down and wait, like everyone else!” came the shouted reply.
Time was heavy on his shoulders. Thinking fast, he grabbed a sheaf of papers and a charcoal stick out of the correspondence case on his saddle. It was one of the few things he had not taken off to lighten the load. Writing quickly, he rolled them into tubes around five of arrows. For the first time since the prince had hurt him, Vansainté strung his long bow.
He started riding north, far enough from the wall so he could get a good arc. A patch of guards was huddled around a fire up on the wall. He put one of the message arrows on the bow, drew it and released. The arrow arced up and then down hitting a barrel beside the guards. There was a squawk of curses and a clatter of men stumbling around. The sun was cresting the horizon behind him and he heard the sounds of men at the gate and the great machinery being made ready to open it. Vansainté spun his tired horse, and set her to a gallop. In quick succession, he fired the other four arrows, three at the guards and one into the courtyard beyond. A guard leaned over the wall.
“Wot th’ hell are you doing!” The man stopped in surprise as he saw the archer with the glowing arm beneath him.
“Warn the city! An attack of the Empire’s marines comes by sea and land!” Vansainté shouted back.
“Why would they...” the guard protested.
The sun was rising and he had no time. Thinking that the years around Anoni in her grandiose moods hadn’t done him any harm, he roared at the guard, “THE SPIRITS OF LIGHT WARN OF ATTACK ON THE CITY OF MANY SHRINES! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!” Vansainté shot an arrow past the guard’s ear. “NOW GO!”
Maybe it was the glowing arm, or possibly it was the notes that had finally been read, but Vansainté heard the gate settle back into place and far off, the clamor of alarm bells. He sagged in his saddle. Turning back down the road, he unstrung the bow and draped himself over the horse’s neck. She could get him back to the Dragons.
CHAPTER 11
Forests Outside of Almacenista, Safiro Wilds
Anoni
Anoni let Yupendra know they were coming, and he was ready on horseback by the time they reached his sniper position. He joined the column smoothly as she kept them at a ground-eating pace. She wanted to keep out of the way of any marines not occupied with their siege of the city. The men were beyond exhausted, soot stained and sporting minor burns and cuts. She was sure they wanted nothing better than to lay down straight onto the moss and roots of the forest floor, but they would keep going until she let them stop.
A few hours later, they finally found a defensible rocky bluff. It would have to do. They camped like sleepwalkers, the only excitement stirring when Vansainté came into camp. He held Copelia for a long time, as the girl stared blankly at the campfire. When they had gotten the horses settled and food passed around, Anoni came to see her, dragging out her last bits of strength and patience to do so. Yupendra sat nearby, making poultices for the welts on the girl’s wrists and ankles.
“How are you feeling?” Anoni knelt down in front of her and Vansainté carefully. Copelia looked at her, silent, eyes staring through her. Anoni touched the girl’s face gently with an unsteady hand. “You in there, Copelia?”
The girl’s eyes focused on her face. In a sore and cracked voice, Copelia whispered, “You were glowing. I thought it was another dream. But, you were there?”
“Yes. You’re safe now. What happened?” asked Anoni.
The girl’s tired eyes went distant again. “They killed Dog. They wanted information about the Dragons. I...told them what I knew. About all of you. I wasn’t going to but...” Copelia hesitated and then held up her tattered shirt with a hand that trembled badly. Her belly was marred with a burn over her lower solar plexus. Burned into the flesh was a circle and four rays, one for each of the cardinal directions like a compass.
“Goddess,” Anoni hissed. She knew it was incomplete.
Yupendra took Copelia’s hands and bandaged the wrists and then the ankles. Anoni stood, thinking quickly as she watched Yupendra work. When he was done, he moved aside and returned to his herbs and mortar.
“What happened?” Anoni asked carefully. Her face had settled into her unreadable expression that had gotten her through so many other bad events. She couldn’t show her rage, couldn’t let out her terror on Copelia’s behalf. The girl had been through enough, she needed everyone around her to be as strong as they could for her. “I passed out and woke when I heard you in the tent. They said they were putting their sigil on me...” Copelia stopped as tears fell down her bruised face. “They knew all your names, and asked questions about where you were. I didn’t know much.”
“Yupendra, can you heal this?” Anoni said, gesturing to the brand on Copelia’s stomach. “She won’t want that on her.”
He put aside the pestle for a moment, thinking. “I don’t know. The fireworks of la
st night were not part of my summoning. I never expected Vansainté’s arm to hold on to the Ozuk’s light spell,” he said with a side-long worried glance at Vansainté’s still bright arm. “I never expected the Ozuk to send us on a mission. I also don’t have much strength left to do such a casting. It’s dangerous if I don’t have enough power for the ward and something bad answers the invitation. I wouldn’t be able to keep it contained,” he said apologetically. “I’m making a salve that will help soothe the burn and speed healing. I might be able to try something in a few days.” He worked in silence for a few minutes, bandaging the burns with clean linen and a pungent green paste.
Anoni looked on grimly. Anger and adrenaline were all that kept her upright. The marines had been prevented from burning a full-rayed sun on Copelia, a sign that she was Califf’s property. Childhood ghost stories surfaced in her mind, something about the sun sign as the closest dedication to a god. Luckily, the Goddess did not lean toward burning things. Anoni had overheard a couple of acolytes talking about the Goddess’s Dedication Ceremony having to do with drinking herbs and potions. Anoni put it from her mind; she had never had to do anything like that to wield the relics given to her.
“That will settle you for tonight,” Yupendra said, making Copelia a cup of tea to drink. Then he turned to Anoni with a look like a disapproving father. “Now for you.”
Anoni backed away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I saw you favoring your left arm. Stop being a child and let me see the wound,” said Yupendra.
“It’s nothing.” She tried to turn away but he grasped her left shoulder with an arm like a blacksmith’s. She tried to reverse their positions and twist his arm behind him, but pain shot up her arm and shoulder. She swayed, almost collapsing, and he looked at her in pity.
“You can’t stand yourself unless you have the strength to hurt someone,” he said softly. “Now, sit. Or I’ll have Corin and Vansainté sit on you.” She slowly sank down, breathing carefully to stave off the blackout hovering at the corners of her eyes, leaning back against a log.
A Glimmer on the Blade Page 19