And dangling by his feet from a heavy stone under the other net was a child, kicking and screaming and reaching for the woman who was certainly his mother. Saving either one, would trap you with them. And even if you did get one down and away from the stone, you wouldn’t get the other free. Anglarok would chop the rope and the stone would fall and kill him or her. And if you attacked Anglarok, he could cut both ropes and kill them both at once.
It was an impossible choice meant to make you ache no matter what choice you made. Because the only choice you could make was a wrong choice. A choice that would result in someone dying.
At least it was Etienne with her. Etienne would see this logically. Etienne wouldn’t be moved by the plight of a single person when he had a world to save.
Her heart ached despite her cold logic and her eyes pricked with tears. She’d once served justice. She still wanted to. And justice would never allow this. Never.
She was going to have to stop it one way or another. But how? How did you defeat an impossible trap? How did you trap the trap-maker?
Her mind was racing so fast that she was having trouble calming it down. She took a deep breath and then another, forcing her thoughts to calm and become clear. Now was not the time for running in without thinking first.
She gathered herself together. What did she know? She couldn’t shoot Anglarok off the fountain because she had no bow or other projectile and neither did Etienne.
Where was Etienne? She scanned the square and saw him nod at her from an alley on the other side of the street. She shook her head ‘no’ vehemently. Running in was not the solution. He needed to stay in place until she could think of one. If anyone ran in, then the mother and child would die. They had to act before she bled out, but there should still be enough time if they acted soon.
At the same time, she didn’t dare let that part of the trap force her into premature action. That’s why he’d done it – to make them stupid. To make them act. And if they ran in, then both of them would die. You could hope, perhaps, to leap from an alley and climb the statue to get to Anglarok, but he’d chop the ropes before you could hurt him. The square was open, and he could see all around him.
So.
What options did that leave?
Outsmarting him.
And that had to start with the Legends. Byron Bronzebow and Queen Mer were dead. Maid Chaos had a new living avatar. The new avatar that the Legends had made wasn’t over the Bridge yet when Liandari and Anglarok were taken over. Etienne was still hearing the Grandfather, so it wasn’t him. And Tamerlan said that Anglarok had Liandari. So – who was left?
Deathless Pirate. Lila Cherrylocks. Lady Sacrifice. Ram the Hunter.
Which of them would set up this trap? It seemed too subtle for Deathless Pirate. In the Legends, he was more of a leap-before-you-look type. She didn’t know a lot about Ram except what Tamerlan had read, but she had a feeling that he would be more intent on the dragon than he was on hurting them. Which left Lila Cherrylocks and Lady Sacrifice. Lila would play a trick like this. She liked games and traps.
And yet.
There was something extremely dark about pitting the lives of mother and son against each other. Marielle felt a chill run through her. It was the kind of darkness that rejoiced when innocent girls were slaughtered on the longest day of the year. Besides, the way they were hanging – by their feet – reminded Marielle of when she had been hung upside down as they prepared to slit her throat. This felt the same.
She swallowed down bile.
This was Lady Sacrifice. She’d bet her life on it.
So, how did you outmaneuver a sacrifice? She didn’t care if she died. That was kind of the point. And clearly, she didn’t mind killing other people. How did you fight someone with nothing to lose?
She chewed her lip, thinking, and then gasped. There was a flurry of activity in the streets beyond the square. Her heart leapt into her throat as movement caught her eye.
No, no, no! Not now! It was too soon!
Tamerlan ran down one of the streets, sword drawn, cloak billowing behind him. She already knew without scenting him that he’d caught sight of the boy and his mother. He was going to try to free one of them. He was going to rush in like a fool and get them both killed.
Son of a Legend!
She motioned frantically to Etienne, trying to signal to him that he had to stop Tamerlan, but as he stepped out from the shadows, she saw another figure detach from the shadows, too. Liandari. Her blade was so quick that Marielle thought she’d hit him, but Etienne twisted at the last moment as if he could feel her behind him even though he couldn’t possibly see her. His own sword flashed from his sheath as he met her blade for blade.
It was a double trap. It would catch them if they tried to save the victims and catch them if they waited and watched.
Marielle spat a curse but there just wasn’t time to act. She was too high up to jump. There were too many stairs to get down to the square and stop Tamerlan in time, and Etienne was fighting for his life already.
Anglarok – or rather, the Lady Sacrifice – began to cackle from his place on the statue. His laughter was loud enough to drown out the whimpers of his victims.
Marielle’s eyes shot to Tamerlan. She felt paralyzed like she was in a dream and she couldn’t wake. There was no way to save him now.
She should have brought him with her so she could keep an eye on him.
She saw him pause and take a puff of smoke from his roll of spices.
“Dragon’s spit in a cup!” Who cared if she muttered curses? It was already too late. “Dragon’s blood and bones!”
If she had her way, she would suck the Legends out of every one of them. Tamerlan hadn’t been lying when he said they were the enemy. They were like an echo of everything that had ever been wrong in the society of the Five Cities – an echo of past wrongs and future devastations.
Echo.
Like her shell had echo magic.
She lifted the shell, studying the swirls of turquoise and gold that seemed to flow around it. She could smell the tinge of magic coating the shell as she brought it up to her lips. Would it work when she didn’t know how to use it? Could it work?
Maybe if she focused on what she was trying to do?
She needed to echo the magic that was keeping Anglarok bound to the will of the Lady Sacrifice – and though that echo, she needed to release him. If he had any shred of will left, he’d never torment citizens.
She put the shell to her lips and blew with all her might.
15: Murder
Tamerlan
Tamerlan drew in the smoke, sucking it in with long, desperate breaths.
Yes! I told you we could help! I told you to do this! Lila's voice was triumphant.
He shouldn't be doing it. It felt like a defeat more than anything else, as if he'd given them his soul for nothing. But what other option did he have? He'd been sitting there with Jhinn as the screams grew – a child's screams and no child would suffer while Tamerlan could hear him and do something to help him. He'd been out of the boat and racing down the street with a flaming brand in one hand and a roll of spices in the other before he stopped to think or plan. If he found Marielle and Etienne there when he arrived, then he'd join them, but he couldn't count on that.
He lit the spice. But he didn't smoke it immediately – he wasn't that much of a fool. With care, he dropped the brand and drew his sword. He'd run to the screams and look before he leapt, but he hadn't even reached the square when he saw the horrific trap before him.
It's genius. I couldn't build better, Lila had said. As if he cared about her dragon-forsaken traps! Time to set us free, pretty boy. You know you can't do this on your own!
She was crowing. This was what she'd hoped for all along. His heart was in his throat as he brought the spice up to his lips, but there was no sign of Etienne or Marielle - there was only him here. And if he had any chance of reaching Anglarok and stopping him in time, he would need supernatural
speed and skill. And his only hope of that was to smoke.
Yes, oh yes! Lila cried as he brought it up to his lips and took a long drag on it.
He expected her to take him as a clash of steel against steel broke out somewhere close. Was that Marielle? Was she okay? He took another puff of smoke and began to run. But shouldn't he be possessed by now? He would have expected Lila to already have him as she laughed and leapt through the streets like a child freed from study.
I prefer to watch and wait before I act, a strangely accented voice said. This is my first time in another's body. The experience is ... not pleasant. I do not like your smell, boy.
Shock filled him as whatever Legend had him stretched his neck back and forth, making a cracking sound in the bones of it, as he took over Tamerlan's body. His speed increased, his muscles thrumming with power. He was focused fully on Anglarok, on getting to him before he could cut those ropes.
The Windsniffer. What is wrong with him? Has he gone mad?
Of course, he had! What did the Legend expect? He'd been taken permanently by a Legend. If that didn't make you mad, then nothing would – to live in the back of your mind with no control over your own actions – or the horrors you unleashed upon the earth.
Abomination! The Legend screamed through his mind and he would have flinched if the other man didn't have his body fully in his control.
Music, bright and wild – one long tone that reached into Tamerlan and shook him by the spine – filled the air and the Legend who had his reins seemed to smile internally.
Help has arrived. Another Windsniffer.
In front of them, Anglarok looked up at the window of a burnt-out building. For a brief second, anger shot through his eyes, but it was replaced just as suddenly by a look of relieved determination. He leapt from the statue to the ground, flinging his sword away and staring Tamerlan defiantly in the eyes.
"Quickly!" he called, his tattoos glowing brightly as if by magic. "Quickly before she returns!"
Was he asking Tamerlan to kill him? Shock rippled through him. He was no murderer to kill an unarmed man. An ally. A friend – of sorts.
You would not grant him mercy?
And then Anglarok blinked and his eyes narrowed in a bloodthirsty snarl.
The Legend in Tamerlan's body darted forward, plunging his sword into the Harbinger's chest so quickly that Tamerlan didn't have time to flinch or even gasp. Anglarok's eyes clouded over, slumping to the ground as Tamerlan wrenched his sword out of the other man's chest again.
Anglarok.
Tamerlan looked at him, stunned at what he’d just done.
The man had been so faithful to his cause. A worthy ally. A powerful force of good. And now he was gone – murdered by Tamerlan.
I knew this one. Anglarok of Ship White Peaks, of the Shard Islands of the Eighth Sea, a Windsniffer. I saw him on the ships of the Retribution. Let us sing the song of the dead for him.
The Legend began to sing with Tamerlan's lips as he reached down to close the other man's eyes and place a small pebble from the street on each of them. The song was low and longing – a proper dirge with hints of the salt of the sea in the very wording of it. The Legend took Anglarok's belt and pouches, wrapping it around Tamerlan's waist as he finished his dirge.
"To the salt and the mother, Windsniffer," he said dramatically. "To the water with you. The water of our tears honors you. With their salt and the blood we will spill in vengeance, we will honor you. Salt to salt. Water to water. We send you to the heart of the mother."
At least he was showing respect. Anglarok may have been a reluctant ally but he'd fought with Tamerlan to free Marielle and he deserved respect despite what he'd done at the end – because it hadn't really been him. It had been the Lady Sacrifice.
Tamerlan felt the lie in his thoughts. Because he knew that even as the Legends controlled his body it was still him – still his body, still his fault, still his to atone for.
We applaud your sense of responsibility. The sea may not be governed, only responded to. Storms come as they may and none can stop them. They may only sail into the storm’s teeth with shoulders back, head high, screaming defiance over every wave and swell!
This Legend made him think of Byron Bronzebow.
Who was he?
They sprinted toward the mother first, and the Legend had his knife out before Tamerlan could think, concentrating on the thick strands of rope holding her hands. He sawed through them, eyes completely focused, not distracted by anything. The gag went next and as she thanked him in a thready, weak voice, he balanced her in one arm while he cut the bindings to her feet.
They were vulnerable like this - both of them under the trap. He could still hear the sounds of steel striking steel and the harsh sounds of exertion as the people in the distance fought. He still didn't know who they were. Legends send it wasn't Marielle. Legends send her safe.
Why do you pray to us when you know we cannot help you?
A good question. You'd think he'd have stopped such nonsense now. And yet he called on them instinctually.
The woman was loose now, Tamerlan laid her on the cobblestones as gently as he could – outside the net of course, outside of danger. This Legend was strange, his actions so close to what Tamerlan's own would be that he kept forgetting himself – thinking it was he who worked and not his temporary master. He was already rushing toward the boy, ignoring his sobs as he slashed at the ropes at his feet and caught his small body in strong arms.
"Mother?" his voice was so clogged with tears as to be barely distinguishable but Tamerlan felt a surge of relief. He lived. And he knew where he was. That was a good sign.
Tamerlan brought him to his mother, joy welling up at the sight of their embrace. Her wound needed tending. The Legend was already reaching into Anglarok's belt pouch with sure hands and finding what he needed to tend to her as she spoke comforting – though weak – words to her boy.
"The Windsniffer's cloak can be used to warm you when you have the strength to rise," he was saying with Tamerlan's voice as he pulled needle and thread from the belt pouch. His actions were smooth and quick. Only moments had passed since they cut her down and already he was stitching with sure hands.
I was surgeon to my ship for a year as is custom on the ships. Each young officer takes a rotation at each station. This was long ago – before I was Admiral of the White Ships, but I was particularly good at it, and the training sticks.
So, he was an Admiral. On ships. Was he the Legend that Tamerlan had seen them creating in Choan?
You saw that? The Admiral seemed shocked. We were not certain it would work. We've only done it once before – long, long ago when we bound the dragon under the city Xtexyx on the Eight Isles.
If Tamerlan had control of his body, he would have felt his eyebrows raising. They had dragons across the sea, too?
Only one. Sort of.
That qualifier was not comforting. Was he referring to the egg that the Harbingers had drawn on the map?
The Legend's hand fumbled for the first time as he wrapped the bandage around the woman's wound. He was unsettled by Tamerlan’s mention of the egg. Interesting. Maybe Anglarok and Liandari weren't meant to reveal that.
Some secrets are better left secret.
That was certainly true.
We'd best get the cloak from the dead to cover this woman before she shivers to pieces.
Beside them the woman clutched at her boy - he was maybe eight or nine. The tears flowing down both their faces intermixed with joy.
"My Pano, my sweet Pano," she was saying, rocking him and kissing his hair. A flash of memory of his own mother holding him in her embrace before he was sold flashed through Tamerlan's mind. He'd known a mother's love once.
A smile flickered across his face. He'd been right to risk everything for these two. But he shouldn't have won that battle. It shouldn't have been so easy. What had brought Anglarok back to himself for those few moments? Had it been the horn cry he'd heard?
> The Spirit Singer shell?
Was that what it was?
A powerful Windsniffer helped us.
Marielle? Who else could that have been? Tamerlan was too deep in thought as the Admiral turned them to notice that something wasn't right. Something hit him in the head, and he fell to the ground with a grunt. There was a guttural cry above him and he struggled, trying to twist up to see who had attacked him.
Blood, hot and thick dropped onto his cheek as something tugged his head back by the hair, baring his throat.
Admiral?
There was no response.
Admiral?
His breath was coming in quick gasps.
It's too bad he was stronger than me, pretty boy. Your last thoughts will be wishing he wasn't, Lila said. I could have saved you.
There was a grunt and the sound of meat being struck with a cleaver and then the hand was jerked from his hair and he spun immediately, shoving at the leg pinning his prone body to the cobblestones. He got it off and rolled out from underneath, fighting to get his feet under him as they slipped in blood.
In front of him, Anglarok was trying to stand, too, the gaping hole in his chest not deterring him at all. But he couldn't rise. A sword split into his head and then his face, and then his neck, carving into him again and again with horrific force. Blood spattered across Tamerlan as he finally found his feet, his mouth open in horror as he looked up to see Marielle's face twisted with a combination of panic and determination. She hacked at Anglarok a final time and his head rolled away down the cobbles.
Tamerlan gasped and her gaze met his. She choked and he rushed to her, worried. Was she hurt? Was she dying?
But it was only a sob bubbling out of her as her knees weakened and her sword – slick with blood – fell from her grip.
He rushed to her, catching her before she could fall and pulling her away from the carnage and into his arms.
Bridge of Legends- The Complete Series Page 71