City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [58]
“Your place is with us,” Lei offered.
Pierce inclined his head, acknowledging the thought. But he wasn’t so certain. He heard a stranger’s words echoing in the back of his mind. Are you just a weapon, worthless when there is no blood to be spilled?
They followed the street around a tight curve as it followed the wall of the central tower. Around the bend, six people were spread across the street. In the dim light, they all appeared human, though their features were hidden by ragged cloaks and cowls. The man in the center pulled back his hood. It was Monan—or Hugal. Pierce had noticed that the two had a few unique quirks; Hugal seemed to speak more often and more quickly, and Monan had a tendency to fidget. Given time, he was confident he could distinguish between the two. But at a glance, he wasn’t sure which one they were dealing with.
“I suppose we could have that talk now,” Daine said.
The six figures rushed forward. Monan brandished a long knife, and one young woman had her hands outstretched like weapons. Pierce saw that her fingers were tipped with long, curved claws.
“Take them alive if you can!” Daine cried.
As Monan closed with Daine, the woman and another stranger charged Pierce. He raised his flail and dropped into combat consciousness, setting aside emotion and thought to rely on the battle instincts that were a part of his being.
Two foes.
A human male.
Middle-aged.
Overweight.
Features twisted in fury, but no visible weapons.
No signs of the mystical tools or components that distinguished an artificer or spellcaster.
That’s one.
A human female.
Young.
Athletic.
Claws.
That’s two.
Pierce did not question the presence of her talons. He simply evaluated the threat they presented. She was armed, and for the moment, she seemed the greater danger.
The captain had requested that they be taken alive. Pierce’s flail was already ready and in hand, and even as the woman leapt forward he swung his weapon in a low arc. Wrapping the chain around her ankles, he gave a mighty pull. She fell back with a snarl, slamming her head against the street. Pierce was moving forward even as she fell, lashing out with the haft of the flail. But even as he struck her across the face, agony lashed across his shoulder.
In a split second he replayed the scene in his mind, reviewing the attack—
As he engaged the young woman, the older man had jerked his head forward and let loose with a stream of bile, a gout of acid that was now eating into the metal plating and composite material of Pierce’s shoulder.
Pierce was no creature of flesh and blood. He did not cry out, but he still felt the pain, a terrible burning that warned him of the injury he had suffered.
Priorities had changed. The portly man was a threat after all, and it was impossible to guess what other powers he might possess. Pierce disentangle the flail’s chain from the woman’s legs and raised it as the acid-spitter charged.
His attacker took in a deep breath. Pierce crouched and pulled his flail back to strike. The man’s mouth opened—
And he turned to stone.
One instant, the man was in motion. A second later, he was a granite statue. There were still flecks of bile on his lips, and the acid began to pit the stone.
The clawed woman was rising to her feet. Judging he had two or three seconds to spare, Pierce glanced over his shoulder. The lady Lei was on the ground, struggling with an old woman. From the strain on her face, it was clear that the crone was far stronger than she appeared. At the start of the battle, Pierce remembered seeing rags wrapped around the woman’s hands. Now one of her hands was free, and Pierce caught sight of a blemish on her palm—a scar or tattoo that resembled a large reptilian eye.
“Pierce, watch out!” Lei called. “Don’t look at her left hand!”
With the threat identified, his course of action was clear. The clawed woman had regained her feet and was charging him. Pierce hurled his flail at her. She dodged the clumsy attack with ease, but it bought Pierce enough time to turn and grapple with the crone, pinning her. Her strength