Django Wexler - The Thousand Names

“I thought there were no more Black Priests,” Winter muttered.

“They are hidden,” Feor said, with dogmatic certainty. “But still powerful.”

Something flashed nearby with another horrible glass-cutting whine. Feor spun.

“Onvi!”

She ran into the smoke, forcing Winter to hurry to keep close behind her. Statues loomed to either side, wraithlike and monstrous. Ahead, light flared, and as the mists parted, Winter grabbed Feor by the collar to keep her from sprinting right into the open.

Onvidaer stood in a fighting crouch, shifting his weight, ready to spring. Opposite him was a young woman it took Winter a moment to recognize-Jen Alhundt, the Ministry of Information liaison. What the hell is she doing here? Everything she’d heard about Alhundt, in spite of her title, said that she was a nonentity. And that she was sleeping with Captain d’Ivoire, though that hardly seemed relevant. But. .

She was smiling, a toothy wolf’s grin. And Onvidaer seemed wary. He feinted one way, then the other, then jumped almost straight up in a catlike pounce that took him over Alhundt’s head. She slashed her right hand vertically, and a wave of distortion fanned out, passing through space like a ripple across the surface of still water but with a sound like it was tearing the air apart. Onvidaer somehow twisted in midair, and the surface of the thing missed him by inches. He reached for her, and Alhundt’s other hand came up, palm out. A wall of sizzling white sparks crackled into being where the two were almost touching.

Some trick of momentum held them there for an instant, a perfect still life in the wildly shifting light of the effervescent pinpricks. Then Onvidaer was hurled away. He struck one of the statues hard, his momentum tilting the stone giant into a slow but unstoppable fall. Onvidaer bounced away before it hit the ground, vanishing amidst the grinding crunch of stone and clouds of billowing dust.

Alhundt’s attention was elsewhere. Following her gaze, Winter caught sight of Captain d’Ivoire peeking out from behind another statue.

“I wondered where you’d gotten to,” Alhundt said, turning toward him.

Winter managed to drag Feor back into cover before they were seen. The girl had gone stiff, her hands curled so tightly that her knuckles stood out as white spots under her gray skin.

“It was her,” Feor said. “It was always her. Not your colonel. The minion of Orlanko.” She screwed her eyes tight. “How could she hide what she is?”

“The Concordat are good at hiding,” Winter said. “Listen. I saw the captain down there, and the colonel might be with him. There’s got to be something we can do to help. Can Onvidaer beat her?”

“No.” There were tears in Feor’s eyes. “He is a brave fool to even try. She holds one of the Great Powers. We have not dared such an incantation in centuries. Not even Mother.”

“What about. .” Winter waved a hand, trying to take in Feor, the library of steel tablets, the cavern full of ancient mysteries. “There has to be something !”

“I cannot. I-”

The screech of another shower of sparks drew Winter’s attention back to the battle. Onvidaer attacked Alhundt again, with as little effect as before, but the captain took advantage of the distraction to make a run for it. Winter could see another blue-uniformed figure with him. The colonel?

Alhundt spun. Another rippling wave flashed out, chopping a chimpanzee statue off at the knees. It toppled toward the two men, exploding into fragments somewhere between them and obscuring her view with a roiling cloud of dust.

“Damn it, Marcus!” Jen shouted.

She spun back toward Onvidaer, but he was on her before she could face him, crossing the flagstones separating them so fast he was a blur. His hand grabbed for hers an instant before the field of sparkling light appeared. The incandescent magic washed over him, but he managed to hang on, flapping away from her in the supernatural pull like a flag in a stiff breeze. Alhundt screamed and brought her other hand around in a wild swing. There was a horrible tearing sound, and blood sprayed across the flagstones in a wide arc. Onvidaer shot across the room, to land somewhere in the mists. Alhundt collapsed to her knees, cradling her wounded arm.

This time Winter wasn’t fast enough. Feor darted beyond her reach, headed in the direction Onvidaer had flown. Winter spat a curse and followed.

• • •

They found him where his flight had intersected with yet another statue. This one had had scorpion pincers, but not much else was apparent, since Onvidaer had hit it hard enough to blow the stone into a spray of a thousand fragments. Winter watched in stunned disbelief as the Khandarai youth struggled to his feet. Any normal man would have been the consistency of gruel after that impact, but Onvidaer didn’t even seem bruised.

He wasn’t entirely uninjured, however. Alhundt’s swing had taken off his left arm, just below the shoulder, with as neat a cut as a surgeon had ever performed. He had his other hand pressed against the stump, but bright red blood was leaking between his fingers and dripping in a steady patter across the floor.

“Onvi!” Feor pulled up short as she realized what had happened. “Heavens above-what are you doing?”

He was getting down off the plinth, stumbling like a drunk, his previous grace gone. Winter stepped up behind Feor, who stared in wide-eyed horror.

“Going. . to fight her,” Onvidaer said. His breath was ragged. Up close, Winter could see he hadn’t come through the collision entirely unscathed. His bare skin was covered in tiny lacerations, and a hundred small cuts wept blood. “Mother. . wants her dead.”

“Mother wanted me dead,” Feor said. “You’ve done enough, haven’t you?”

“You don’t understand. She’s one of them.” He coughed. “The Black Priests. The minions of Orlanko. We can’t let her have the Names.”

“But you’re not going to stop her!” Feor shouted. She was crying freely now. “You’re just going to die . Onvi, you don’t have to!”

He managed a brief smile. “Mother’s. . orders.”

“Then why did you spare me?” Feor sobbed. “What was the point of. . of anything?”

“Didn’t have a choice.” He shuffled closer, and Winter tensed, but he only bent awkwardly and kissed Feor on the forehead. It left a bloody smear. “Mother was wrong then. But she’s. . right this time.”

“But-”

“Feor. Listen.” He shifted his grip on the stump of his arm, blood falling like heavy rain. “I can’t stop her. Maybe. . hurt her. Distract her. A little longer. But you can.” She met his eyes, and Winter could see something pass between them. “You understand?”

“But. .” Feor glanced over her shoulder at Winter, then back at Onvidaer. “I understand.”

“Good.” He coughed again. “Take care. Little sister.”

Then he was gone, running back toward Alhundt so fast there were yards between where one drop of blood splashed the floor and the next. Winter stood awkwardly behind Feor, not knowing what to say. The girl had her arms crossed over her stomach, head bowed, as if she wanted to shrink in on herself and disappear entirely. Winter tentatively put one hand on her shoulder, and Feor flinched at the contact. After a moment she relaxed and let her arms drop.

“Feor?” Winter said. “I didn’t follow. . all of that.”

“He’s gone to buy us some time,” Feor said. There was the slightest tremor in her voice, held tightly in check.

“Time for what?”

“I can. . help. We can.” Feor looked up at Winter, her eyes still wet. The tears had cut clean lines through the grime and powder grit on her cheeks. “You wanted to help your colonel, didn’t you? You trust him?”