Promise of Blood (11 page)

Taniel eyed the mob moving systematically down the street and wondered if they’d give him much trouble. The city was in chaos; wagons overturned, buildings set ablaze, bodies left in the street to fall victim to looters and worse. The smoke hanging like a curtain over the city seemed as if it would never blow away.

Taniel flipped through his sketchbook randomly. The pages fell open to a portrait of Vlora. He paused there for just a moment before he gripped the spine of the book in one hand and tore the page out. He crumpled it up and threw it to the street. He stared at the jagged rip in his book and instantly regretted damaging it. He didn’t have money for a new sketchbook. He’d sold everything of value in order to buy a diamond ring in Fatrasta. That damned diamond ring he’d left nailed to a fop in Jileman. He could still see the blood spreading from the man’s shoulder, crimson dripping from the ring he’d slid on the man’s sword before he shoved it in. Taniel should have kept the ring. He could have pawned it. He forced a lump down in his throat. He regretted not saying something—anything—to Vlora as she stood in the bedroom door, sheets clutched to her chest.

He checked the time on a nearby clock tower. Four hours until his father’s soldiers would begin to reassert order. Any of the mob left out after midnight would have to deal with Field Marshal Tamas’s men. The soldiers might have a hard time of it. There were a lot of desperate people in Adopest these days.

“What do you think of these mercenaries?” Taniel asked. He bent over and picked up the rumpled sketch of Vlora and smoothed it on his leg, then folded it and tucked it into his sketchbook.

Ka-poel shrugged. She watched the approaching mob. They were led by a big man, a farmer with worn, old overalls and a makeshift truncheon. Probably moved to the city to work in a factory but couldn’t join the union. He saw Taniel and Ka-poel standing in the doorway of a closed shop and turned toward them, raising his truncheon. More victims to be had.

Taniel ran a finger along the fringe of his buckskin jacket and touched the butt of a pistol at his hip. “You don’t want any trouble here, friend,” he said. Ka-poel’s hands tightened into little fists.

The farmer’s eyes fell to the silver powder keg pin on Taniel’s chest. He came up short and said something to the man behind him. They turned away suddenly. The rest followed, dark looks for Taniel, but none of them willing to get mixed up with a powder mage.

Taniel breathed a sigh of relief. “Those two hired thugs have been gone a long time.”

Julene, the Privileged mercenary, and Gothen, the magebreaker, had left to follow the Privileged’s trail almost an hour ago. She was close, they’d said, and they’d scout her out, then come back for Taniel and Ka-poel. Taniel was beginning to think they’d been abandoned.

Ka-poel jerked her thumb at her own chest and then shaded her eyes, thrusting her head out as if looking for something.

Taniel nodded. “Yeah, I know you can find her,” he said, “but I’ll let these mercs do the groundwork. That’s all they’re gonna be good for any—”

Taniel’s head cracked against the stone of the building at his back, his ears pounding from the sudden explosion. Ka-poel rocked into him and he caught her before she could fall. He steadied her on her feet and shook his head to dispel the ringing in his ears.

He’d been half a mile from a munitions dump once when the powder caught fire. This had felt like that kind of explosion, but his Marked senses told him it wasn’t powder. It was sorcery.

A gout of flame shot into the air not two city blocks from them. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, and Taniel heard screams. He checked on Ka-poel. Her eyes were wide, but she seemed unhurt. “Come on,” he said, and broke into a run.

He ran past the mob, all scattered on the cobbles like so many children’s toys knocked down by an angry fist, and turned the corner to head toward the explosion. He thumped into someone and was thrown off his feet. He hit the ground and immediately pushed himself up, sparing barely a glance for the person he’d run into.

He was two steps into running again when what he’d seen caught up with him: an older woman with gray hair, a plain brown jacket and skirt, and Privileged’s gloves.

Taniel whirled, drawing his pistol.

“Stop!” he shouted.

Ka-poel careened around the corner, directly into his line of fire. He lowered his pistol and ran toward her. Over her small shoulder he watched the Privileged turn. Her fingers danced, and Taniel felt the heat of a flame as the Privileged touched the Else.

Taniel grabbed Ka-poel and flung them both toward the ground. A fireball the size of his fist tore past his face, hot enough to curl his hair. He lifted his pistol and sighted, feeling the calm of the powder trance take him as he concentrated on the aim, the powder, and his target. He pulled the trigger.

The bullet would have hit the woman’s heart had she not stumbled at that moment. Instead it took her in the shoulder. She twitched with the impact and snarled at him.

Taniel looked around. He needed someplace to take cover and reload. An old brick warehouse twenty paces away would do. “Time to go,” Taniel said to Ka-poel. He jerked her to her feet and ran for the warehouse.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched the Privileged’s fingers dance. It was a fascinating thing, watching a Privileged touch the Else—if that Privileged wasn’t trying to kill you. With their mastery of the elements a skilled Privileged could throw a fireball or call lightning.

Taniel felt the ground shudder. They got behind cover of the warehouse, but the building rumbled. He felt the scream wrench itself from his throat in anticipation of the powers that would tear through the building and destroy them.

The building cracked, jerked, but it didn’t explode. Smoke billowed from sudden cracks in the mortar. An audible
wump
split the air. Then everything was still. They were alive. Something had stopped whatever sorcery the Privileged had been about to throw at them.

Taniel glanced at Ka-poel. He felt a shaky breath escape him. “Was that you?”

Ka-poel gave him an unreadable look. She pointed.

“After her. Right. Come on.”

He sprinted out into the street, switching his spent pistol for a loaded one. He paused a moment when he saw Julene and Gothen running toward them.

Julene looked like a keg of powder had exploded in her face. Her hair was scorched, her clothes blackened. Even Gothen had a wild look in his eyes and black marks on his shirt, and sorcery wasn’t supposed to be able to touch him. The sword in his hand was missing a foot of blade.

“What the pit did you two do?” Taniel said. “You were supposed to come back and get me before going after her.”

“We don’t need a damned Marked getting in our way,” Julene replied with a rude gesture.

“She shouldn’t have known we were there,” Gothen said. He gave Taniel a sheepish look. “But she did.”

“And she did that?” Taniel pointed at Gothen’s broken blade.

Gothen frowned. “Oh, for pit’s sake.” He threw the half sword on the ground.

“We stand here talking and we’ll lose her,” Taniel said. “Now, Julene, try to flank her, I’ll—”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Julene said, leaning forward. “I’ll go straight down her throat.” She tugged at her gloves and took off running down the street.

“Damn it!” Taniel slapped Gothen’s shoulder. “You’re with me.”

They headed down a side street, then onto the next main thoroughfare, running parallel to Julene.

“What the pit happened?” Taniel asked.

“We found her in an astronomer’s shop,” Gothen said between gasps as he ran, swords, buckles, and pistols rattling. “We circled the place, checked all exits, and laid our trap. We were just getting ready to go in after her when the whole front of the building blew off. Julene barely shielded herself. I could feel the heat of the explosion! That’s not supposed to happen. I should be able to nullify any aura she can summon from the Else. No fire, no heat, no energy from it should reach me, but it did.”

“So she’s powerful.”

“Very,” Gothen said.

Taniel saw Julene sprint past an alleyway the next street over. He came up short and took a deep breath, motioning for Gothen to stop. Something was wrong. He turned around.

“Ka-poel?”

She’d stopped in the mouth of the alley. She put a finger to her lips, her eyes half-lidded. She pointed down the alley.

Taniel gestured for Gothen to go first. He would void any traps or sorcery flung at them. Taniel lifted his pistol, keeping it aimed just over Gothen’s shoulder. The alley was filled with debris—trash, mud, and shit; a few half-rotted kegs. Nothing big enough for a person to hide behind. It was well lit by the noonday sun.

“There!” Gothen surged forward, and Taniel caught a movement in the alley up ahead. He blinked, trying to see clearly. It was as if light were turning in on itself, making a slight shadow where a person could hide.

Then the Privileged appeared. Her hands twitched and she leveled them at Gothen. Gothen braced himself.

The air shimmered, distorted by a furnace of impending sorcery. Gothen yelled, the veins on his neck standing out. Taniel fired.

The bullet glanced off her skin as if it were metal, ricocheting harmlessly down the alley. The Privileged threw her hands out. Gothen tumbled backward and fell to the ground.

There were handholds built into the brick side of the building for roof access. The Privileged climbed them with the ease and speed of someone far younger, and was over the roof two stories up before Taniel could reload one of his pistols. He took a snort of powder and climbed up after her.

“Don’t lose her!” Taniel shouted back to Gothen. Ka-poel raced back out into the main street to track the Privileged’s progress.

Taniel made it to the roof and swung up over. The Privileged leapt to the next roof over and spun, throwing a fireball. The powder trance burned through Taniel. He could
see
the auras of her sorcery, could
feel
the path the fireball would take. He ducked and rolled, then came back to his feet. She fled, clattering and sliding across the clay-tiled roof.

Taniel cleared the next gap easily. He lost sight of the Privileged with the slant of the roof, then found her again as she crested the next roof over. He fired off a shot.

He hit her once again, but once again she didn’t go down. It had been a square shot, right to the spine. She should have been dead, or at the very least wounded and bleeding. She hardly stumbled.

Taniel snarled. He put away his pistols and swung his rifle into his hand. He fixed his bayonet. He’d do this the hard way.

A powder mage in a full trance could run down a horse. He was within feet of her in two more buildings. She leapt between roofs. Her toe barely caught the lip of the next. She slipped and fell, grabbing the tiles.

Taniel cleared the roof with space to spare. He skidded to a stop and turned, ready to put his bayonet through her eye. She let go of the roof and fell to the street below.

Taniel swore. He hesitated only a moment before jumping after her. Even in the height of a powder trance his knees ached and his body shivered when he hit the ground. He landed in a crouch next to the Privileged, who was already on her feet. He reacted on instinct, thrusting his bayonet. He felt it slide home.

The woman slumped above him, her gloved hand a mere foot from his head. She had the face of an aging woman who’d once been very beautiful, her skin now lined and weathered, crow’s-feet in the corners of her eyes. She let out a gasp, then jerked herself off the end of Taniel’s bayonet.

“You’ve no idea what’s going on, boy.” Her voice was a deadly whisper.

Taniel heard the jingle of Gothen’s weapons as the magebreaker ran up beside him, his pistol leveled.

Taniel felt the earth rumble.

“Get down!” Gothen leapt between Taniel and the Privileged.

The ground splintered and cracked and fell out from under them. Taniel’s whole body screamed at the pressure released. He felt as if he’d been jammed into the bottom of a cannon and used as fuel for an explosion. His ears popped, he felt dizzy. His head pounded.

Masonry rained down all around them.

When the dust began to clear, Taniel saw Gothen still crouching over him, his face in a grimace. The magebreaker opened one eye. His lips moved, but Taniel couldn’t hear a thing. The whole world wavered. Taniel got to his feet and looked around. Ka-poel approached him through the haze. Julene was not far behind. The buildings on either side of him were completely gone, leveled to their foundations, damp basements filled with rubble and hovering curtains of dust. There were smears of blood and bits of flesh in the debris. There had been people in those buildings—people who hadn’t had a magebreaker standing between them and the explosion.

Taniel drew a shaky breath.

Julene marched straight up to Taniel and knocked him off his trembling legs with a shove. Ka-poel slid in between them, her silent glare driving Julene back a step. It was several moments before Taniel could hear well enough to know what Julene was shouting.

“… let her go! You let her get away! You bloody fool!”

Taniel climbed to his feet. He gently pushed Ka-poel out of the way by the shoulder.

Julene stepped forward and punched him full in the face. His head jerked back. He reacted without thinking, grabbing her next blow out of the air and twisting her hand. He slapped her. “Back the pit off.” Taniel turned and spit blood. “She’s dead. There’s no way anyone could have lived through that.”

“She’s not dead.” Julene’s cheeks were flushed, but she made no move to continue the fight. “I can still feel her. She got away.”

“I ran her through with three spans of steel! She wasn’t walking away from that.”

“You think steel can hurt her? You think it can really hurt her? You don’t know shit.”

Taniel took a deep, calming breath, then a snort of powder. “Ka-poel,” he said. “Is she still alive?”

Ka-poel hefted the end of Taniel’s rifle in her small hands and drew her finger through the blood along the bayonet’s edge. She smeared it between her fingers. After a moment she nodded.