The Yellow Silk - Don Bassingthwaite [106]
The wizards glanced at each other and Hanibaz shrugged. "Fair enough." They took a step back. Hani-baz's hand reached into his cloak.
Tycho choked and looked at Li. The Shou's face was pale, but the expression on it was hard. "Give them the Silk," he hissed. "Save yourself." Tycho nodded. He reached for his sleeve and his fingers closed on its astonishing warmth.
We were so close, he thought. It almost worked, we almost got away. We took down Brin and Lander and all their men-and even Hanibaz and Mosi. Red Wizards, Tycho, he reminded himself, you pulled one over on Red Wizards!
And you're going to stop fighting now?
Anger flared inside him, warm and powerful as the Silk itself. A crooked smile spread across his face and he grinned at Li. "Bind me if I will!" he spat. Li's eyes narrowed and a smile tugged on his face as well.
They moved at the same moment, Li charging at Yu Mao with a shout, Tycho whirling to dart across the sty and away from the wizards-and his aged mentor. "Laera!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Get Veseene out of here!"
Words of magic shimmered in the air. One of the wizards was working a spell. Tycho's hand went to his sleeve and the ragged edge of the Yellow Silk, and he tugged loose another thread. It grew in his grasp, pulsing and warm. He spun around, sliding in the muck of the sty, and hurled it at the mages without pausing.
Hanibaz dived away from the glowing bolt, but Mosi stood firm. He spoke the final syllable of his spell and flung up his hands. A wispy curtain of flame flared before him, catching the Silk's bolt. Light spattered like water and Mosi staggered, but there was no explosion. Hanibaz hissed. He reached into his cloak once more and whipped out a long, slim wand of pale wood tipped with a vivid red gem. A harsh world rippled from his lips. He flicked the wand at Tycho.
The bard didn't wait to see what unpleasant effect the wand might produce. He threw himself forward, tumbling across the ground. Hanibaz hissed in frustration. Tycho rolled to his feet, snatching another thread from the Yellow Silk as he moved, and rose with a golden bolt ready in his hand. The Red Wizards were separated now, though, too far apart for a single bolt to affect both! His gaze darted from one to the other, trying to choose a target. Mosi, readying another spell behind his veil-thin shield of magic, or Hanibaz with his wand? He lunged toward Mosi in a desperate feint-maybe he could at least startle him into dropping his spell before hurling the bolt at-
Still in his grasp, the bolt changed as he lunged, flexing and lengthening in the air. The tip of a long lash of light cracked, whiplike, against Mosi's shield with a shower of sparks. Mosi yelped and the spell that he had been weaving collapsed in on itself. Even Hanibaz jumped, wand momentarily forgotten. Tycho's own surprise gave way almost instantly to fierce, angry joy.
"Bind me, yes!" he shouted and sent the lash cracking out again, first at Mosi then at Hanibaz, driving the startled wizards back. Another snap of the lash caught the wood of the fence between him and them. Flaming splinters fell hissing into the mud below. "Come on," he screamed defiantly. "You want the Silk? Come and take it!"
Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Laera was struggling with Veseene, trying to drag her away from the fight-and Veseene was resisting with all of her feeble strength. Tycho cracked the lash at Mosi again. This time, the bald wizard stood his ground, letting his shield absorb the blow of the lash. Sparks flew once more, but Mosi didn't even flinch. Tycho swung the lash back at Hanibaz desperately. At least he could still hurt him! "Veseene,