Don Bassingthwaite - The Killing Song

Dandra put on a burst of speed and darted directly underneath the soarsled of the mercenary who had been stalking her. The mercenary’s head twisted as he tried to follow her, and when she stopped, he brought his soarsled skimming around in a quick movement, bow already drawn and aimed. Dandra’s eyes narrowed in concentration. The air between her and the mercenary rippled as she spun out the force that kalashtar called vayhatana -and the man jerked to a stop, captured in midair by the power of her mind.

His soarsled, however, didn’t stop. Momentum carried it away from his feet, the crackling energy faded, and the disc arced down to smash into the street below. The man’s eyes went wide. He stared at the empty air under his feet, then at Dandra, and in an instant his bow joined the falling soarsled as he raised open hands in surrender.

The remaining mercenary sent his sled darting for his suspended comrade. Dandra swung her captive-who screamed like a girl-at him, but the movement was sluggish and more a threat than anything else.

Mithas’s wand wavered between Ashi and Dandra. Both were easy targets.

Singe forced himself up. The bow of the first mercenary Ashi had knocked down lay beside him with blunt, amber-tipped arrows scattered all around. The wizard grabbed for the bow, laid an arrow across it, and pulled the string back. “Mithas!” he shouted. The sorcerer turned. Singe loosed the arrow and grabbed for another.

The shot was wild, of course, but he would have been happy if the arrow had gone anywhere near the man. All he needed was a moment’s distraction for the chance to aim the second arrow more carefully. His first arrow, though, found a target after all.

It struck square in the back of the mercenary struggling with Ashi. The man stiffened as honey-colored light wrapped around him, freezing him in place-and the disc dropped for the ground with Ashi caught in the paralyzed man’s arms. Dandra gasped, her face tightened, and vayhatana rippled again, slowing the soarsled’s fall.

But Mithas flicked his wand and air bent like a counterstroke to the ripples of vayhatana . The beam struck Dandra in the belly, flinging her backward as everyone she had held in the air dropped to the ground. Singe gasped-and it was utterly swallowed by a heart-rending shriek from Moon. Mithas’s wand, already aimed for Singe, rose and flicked toward the terrible cry, but the sorcerer was too slow. Silver-white light exploded onto the street, overwhelming the afternoon light. Mithas flung up an arm to shield his eyes-and Singe watched in amazement as the fabric of his sleeve fell to shreds. Spots of blood burst across the flesh of his arm, across his chest, across his face. Red-soaked rags were all that remained of his clothes. He screamed in pain, and Singe saw his eyes blaze with rage. He thrust out his hand in an arcane gesture, abandoning wand for spell.

The second arrow still lay across Singe’s bow. He lifted the weapon almost without thinking and loosed the arrow.

The expression of surprise on Mithas’s blood-streaked face was caught behind the honey light that surrounded him. His soarsled stayed aloft, and he bobbed in the air like an outraged amber statue.

The last mercenary, still uninjured, took one look around and shot up and away into the sky.

Singe dropped the bow and dragged himself to his feet, his side aching. Ashi, her face twisted in pain, was extricating herself from the embrace of the paralyzed mercenary. The mercenary Dandra had snared with vayhatana and the mercenary Ashi had felled with a fish were groaning and stirring feebly. Dandra was sitting up, rocking slowly as she clutched at her belly. Singe met her gaze, and they both looked up at Mithas. The wounds that the sorcerer had suffered reminded Singe of what Erimelk had done to him, only far worse and more extensive. He turned to look at Moon.

The young kalashtar stood rigid, his body trembling and his skin pale, as if the energy he had put into the psionic attack had left him with barely enough strength to stand. Singe would have gone to him and offered him support, but he wasn’t certain that he wanted to. He’d seen terrible magics unleashed during the Last War. He’d killed people with his fiery spells. He would gladly have killed Mithas. Somehow, though, seeing such a bloody power projected from Moon’s young body left him deeply shocked.

As if he could sense that shock, Moon focused on Singe and gave him a strange smile of grim triumph. The smile of a rival who had proven himself.

Then the smile was gone, and Singe had to wonder if he’d even seen it. Moon shook himself, strength seeming to flow back into his limbs, and he stepped past Singe to offer his hand to Dandra. “We should go. The Watch will come.”

Dandra looked stunned too, but she allowed Moon to help her up. Ashi came to Singe’s side. The struggle had wrenched her scarf askew, and she was tucking it back into place, though Singe still caught a glimpse of a long, bloody scrape across her jaw. “What happened?” she asked. “I saw a flash of light, then Mithas just started to bleed. Was that Moon? Is he that powerful?”

“I wouldn’t have thought he was.” Singe ground his teeth together and forced himself to look around the street. The crowds were creeping back now that the violence was over, eyes wide with fear and curiosity. A number of less than scrupulous types were looking greedily at the magical arrows that the battle had left scattered about. Singe thought the groaning mercenaries would probably recover quickly enough to take care of themselves, though it was too bad that Mithas hovered out of reach. The sorcerer’s vengeful gaze seemed fixed on him. Singe put his back to him and went to Dandra and Moon. He was developing an uneasy feeling around Moon, but the young kalashtar was right-the Watch would come to investigate.

He also likely knew the streets of the area better than any of them. Singe swallowed his pride, if not his caution. “Moon, show us a way out of here.”

Moon nodded once and, still holding Dandra’s hand, started along the street at a swift trot. Dandra twisted around to look back at Singe and he felt kesh touch his mind. This isn’t right , Dandra said inside his head. Something’s wrong. Moon shouldn’t have been able to-

I know , said Singe. But we’ll have to worry about that when we’re away from here .

The street wound like an enormous balcony along the side of the great tower, a ledge on the side of a mountain. At the end toward which Moon ran, it met the wall of another tower and became a tunnel lit by everbright lanterns. The crowds were somewhat thinner inside, though the walls of the tunnel were lined with as many shops and stalls as if there were open sky overhead instead of stone. Between a fruit vendor and a cobbler, Moon turned sharply and plunged down a broad staircase. Like the tunnel-street, the stairs were also lined with stalls, precariously balanced. A stiff breeze blew up the stairs, bearing the warm air and strong smells of an even lower thoroughfare.

Singe cursed, and called out. “Moon! Where are we going?”

Moon, already partway down the stairs, didn’t show any sign of hearing him. Dandra, however, planted her feet and dragged him to a stop. Moon blinked at her in surprise, then glared at Singe and Ashi as they caught up. “You told me to show you a way out.”

“Hanamelk said we’d find refuge from Mithas at the Gathering Light,” Singe told him. “I think we should go there, and I’m pretty sure that’s up, not down.”

Moon’s mouth twisted. “You don’t want to go to the Gathering Light. You’d just end up stuck in there. Besides, you don’t need refuge from Mithas anymore.”

“He’s not dead. He’ll come after us again.” Singe gave Moon a hard look. “Do you know somewhere better than the Gathering Light?”