Matt Forbeck - Marked for Death

“Ready to give up?” Kandler said.

Bastard’s jaw dropped. The hinge came down askew to the sound of metal scraping metal. Bastard looked at the justicar through his remaining eye and laughed loud and long.

Kandler turned and ran. While his arms felt like they might fall off, his legs still had some life in them. As he raced across the arena floor, he heard the steady tread of the tireless warforged close behind him. He dared not look back for fear he might stumble, but the footfalls seemed to grow nearer with every second.

Something jabbed into the back of Kandler’s thigh, and he tumbled to the ground, clutching his leg. He somersaulted forward several times before he came to a rest. He slammed to a stop on his back and saw that he had the hilt from Sallah’s sword in his leg.

Kandler hurled himself to the side, and Bastard’s spiked foot came down where he had just been. The warforged leader stomped down again, and once more Kandler rolled out of the way just in time.

Bastard kicked out at the justicar again. Kandler squirmed out of the path of the warforged’s foot, grabbed the hilt of Sallah’s sword as he came to a stop, and pulled it free. He screamed at the pain and rolled again, just in time. Bastard raised his foot again, Kandler rolled, the foot came down, and Kandler jammed the shard of Sallah’s sword straight down through the warforged’s foot and into the floor below.

Bastard roared in pain and lashed out with its other foot. His spiked toes caught Kandler in the shoulder and stabbed through to his bone. The justicar spun away, holding his wound and trailing blood as he went. He struggled to his knees and scrambled away as fast as he could.

“You think this toothpick will stop me?” Bastard roared. The justicar hoped so, but he didn’t say a word. He kept moving at a shuffle and didn’t look back. He could feel his boot filling with blood.

The warforged tried to raise his foot but failed. He snarled down at the hilt stuck through his armored toes. “This ends now!”

The area around Kandler grew dark. For a moment, he wondered if the vision in his unbruised eye was starting to fade too, then the world started to grow light again-lighter than even before, but red and angry. A crackling sound filled the justicar’s ears, erupting to a roar. It confused him for a moment until he identified it as the noise of a bonfire roaring straight at him.

Kandler braved a look back and saw Bastard pull the hilt of Sallah’s sword from his damaged foot. What was plummeting down on top of the creature caused the justicar to leap to his feet and put every last bit of energy he had into racing away.

The airship slammed down on top of Bastard and smashed the warforged leader flat. The ship bounced, and the ring of fire caught Bastard like a moth in a flame.

Kandler missed sharing Bastard’s fate by a matter of yards. As the ship hit the ground, the arena floor buckled and hurled him forward. He landed on his injured shoulder and had to fight to keep from blacking out at the pain. He rolled several times and ended up on his stomach.

Before he could turn his head, the airship took off again. This time, she shot forward, heading for the far arena wall through which the titan had plowed. The ring of fire brushed past Kandler so close that it singed the hair on the back of his head. Once it passed, Kandler worked his way to his knees and from there to his feet. As he stood, he watched the ship sail just clear the shattered wall. She came close enough to set some of the wreckage ablaze, but the gust of wind in her wake snuffed the flames out.

The ship passed over the wall, and no sooner had it passed than a horse leaped over the lowest part. The rider galloped up to the justicar, leading three more horses behind him.

“How are things, boss?” Burch said as he rode up to where the justicar stood.

Ignoring him, Kandler stared after the airship. “Come on. Turn it around. Turn the ship around.”

The ship kept sailing on in a straight line for the horizon.

Covered with blood from his shoulder, leg, and hands, the justicar stood there staring after the ship, willing her to turn around, turn around, please turn around. She didn’t even slow.

Burch leaped down from his saddle to put a shoulder under Kandler’s arm. He took in all of Kandler’s wounds and said, “I’d hate to see the other guy.”

Kandler jerked his head over to the pile of charred fibers and blackened metal that was all that was left of Bastard. He never took his eyes off the airship.

Burch let out a low whistle. “Who’s on the ship?” the shifter asked.

Kandler’s face contorted into a mask of frustration. “Esprл,” he whispered.

Kandler reached down and smacked the changeling across the face. “Wake up!” he said.

Te’oma opened her eyes, and the world swam around her. Kandler slapped her again, “Wake up!”

“Boss,” Burch said, “we can chase her on horses.”

“We can’t catch an airship from horseback,” Kandler said as he pulled Te’oma to her feet. “We need a way to fly.”

The changeling felt the justicar start to remove her cloak, and she fought back. She pushed against him with feeble arms, and he growled at her.

“Just give me that cloak!”

Te’oma shook her head. “Kill me,” she said, her voice rough and raw.

“I don’t have time for that,” the justicar said. “Just show me how this thing comes off!”

“It doesn’t!” the changeling said.

He kept shaking her, and her cloak unfurled into a limp pair of massive, batlike wings.

“I’m taking it,” the justicar said, “if I have to rip it off you. I’m not letting my daughter go down on a runaway ship!”

“That won’t work,” Sallah said. Kandler swung his head around to see the lady knight limping over toward the others. Bloodstains dripped from the many holes in her armor, but she had stopped bleeding. He suspected she’d used her healing powers on herself this time, but they’d barely been enough to get her back on her feet.

“Don’t tell me that,” the justicar said.

“That isn’t a cloak,” Sallah said, coughing. “It’s a symbiont. A living creature attached to the host in-”

“Spare me the lesson!” Kandler raged. “How do I put it on?”

With every second they stood there talking, Esprл sailed farther and farther away.

Sallah shook her head as she stopped in front of the justicar. “You’d have to kill her to get it off her.”

Kandler had no problem with that. He’d wanted to kill the changeling since he first saw her, and now he had every reason to do so. He wrapped his hands around Te’oma’s throat and squeezed. The changeling started to turn blue.

“No!” Sallah said. She punched Kandler in his injured shoulder. The justicar cried out as he let loose of the changeling’s neck. He fought the impulse to strike back at the Sallah. No matter what kind of feelings he might have for her, no one was going to stand between him and his daughter.

“Would you listen? You’d have to remove the wings carefully and then graft them onto yourself. It takes hours!”

Kandler shoved the changeling into Xalt’s arms and snarled at the lady knight. “We don’t have that kind of time!”

“You don’t think I know that?” Sallah said.

Through his one good eye, Kandler stared off after the airship as she receded toward the east. He felt like his heart might drop straight out of his chest. There had to be something he could do.

Somewhere behind the Mournland’s mists, the sun was setting, and the sky was growing dark. The ring of fire stood out against it in stark contrast. It grew smaller with each passing moment.

“Let me go,” Te’oma said, struggling in Xalt’s arms.