• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

The gnome turned on her, knife in hand. His face was wild with fury.

Ekhaas was ready for him. Every bit of her triumph poured into a song so tightly focused it shook the air and raised loose dirt from the jungle floor. The magic slapped Midian like an invisible hand, lifting him up and sending him flying back. The shaari’mal dropped from his grip and bounced across the ground until it hit her own discarded sword.

Midian kept hold of the knife, though. Somehow he even managed to twist in midair, landing in a crouch like a cat. His eyes flashed like a cat’s too—then narrowed. Makka, shaking his head to clear it, looked around. His eyes went wide. “No!”

Ekhaas felt another flush of triumph. To one side of her, Chetiin was wriggling like something without bones. Ropes that Ekhaas had watched Midian test—twice—slid from his arms and legs. To the other side, Tenquis had scrambled over to Geth. The labyrinthine patterns of his vest coiled and changed, then the tiefling was pulling a knife out of a pocket and slicing at Geth’s bonds. Geth glared at Makka, growling like an animal. Ekhaas saw the shifting come over him, saw his hair grow wild and thick, heard his growl drop even deeper in his throat.

“You want me?” he roared. “You want me? Come and fight!”

“The Fury grants me your life!” Makka bellowed back. He seized his trident and leaped at Geth.

The final strands of rope parted. Tenquis ducked away, but Geth threw himself forward, rolling under Makka’s leap. He came to his feet beside Wrath, pulled the twilight blade from the ground, and dropped into a crouch as Makka twisted around.

“The Fury,” said Geth, “will need to come and take it herself.”

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

14 Vult

The shifter sprang for Makka. The two met in a crashing whirl of blades and bodies. On the other side of the clearing, Chetiin swept up the ropes that had bound him and flung them at Midian. In the instant that it took for the gnome to bat them aside, the shaarat’khesh elder was on him.

Tenquis dropped down at Ekhaas’s side, first slashing the ropes around her ankles, then moving behind her to saw at those on her wrist. “Ekhaas,” he said quickly, “I’m sorry I did what Midian ordered, but when he said he’d cut off my hand—”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I couldn’t have done what I needed to if you hadn’t.” Ekhaas forced her wrists apart as far as she could, straining the ropes so that they’d be easier to cut. She kept her eyes on Geth and Makka, Chetiin and Midian.

As they struggled, they were too close for her to use a song against an enemy without also striking down a friend, but at least the pairs were evenly matched. Shifter and bugbear roared and hammered at each other, catching blows on gauntlet and trident shaft as they surged back and forth across the little clearing. Both were already bleeding, trickles of red running from shallow gashes. In contrast, the gnome and the goblin fought in near silence, never moving far from where their duel had started. Midian’s knife flashed, and Chetiin slid out of the way, responding with a stiff-fingered strike that Midian deflected with his free hand. Neither had been injured that she could see, but Ekhaas knew in her gut that their battle would be decided with a single blow.

Beyond them, Marrow whined and writhed against her bonds. Tooth lay still, but his eyes—fever bright—were open and watching everything. Ekhaas’s ears went back. Sooner or later, Midian was going to remember that he still had two hostages to hold against them. “Tenquis,” she said over her shoulder, “we have to free Marrow and Tooth.”

The tiefling’s knife worked faster. The ropes fell away. Tenquis seized her hand and pulled her to her feet. Ekhaas grabbed for her sword, tore it free of scabbard and belt, then snatched up the fallen shaari’mal with her other hand—

Something had changed.

For a moment, the battle seemed to recede as she stared down at the notched disk in her hand. Byeshk that had felt heavy and cold before had a kind of lightness