The Way of the Black Beast (31 page)

Fawbry babbled, pleaded, but Malja couldn't decipher the words. Zorum dropped Viper and pointed at Fawbry who raised his stump in defiance.
Good, Fawbry.

Malja rolled to her stomach. Zorum kicked her side — just strong enough to warn her to remain still. He stepped over her, one huge leg on either side. His deep voice rumbled the ground as he yelled at her friends bow down. She didn't need to look at them now. They had to be terrified. They had to be lost.

Then I won't be.
Viper lay just in front of her head. No time for hesitation.

In a series of smooth motions, she snatched the weapon, flipped it so the curved blade faced skyward, jumped to her feet, and thrust straight up, sending the blade deep between Zorum's legs. She bellowed her rage as Zorum crouched and groaned in pain. His shock afforded her a few precious seconds — enough to step on his thigh and vault herself higher, slicing up through his gut and into his chest. Arching backward, she flipped her body. She pulled Viper along, tearing it out of him in a crimson spray, and landed on her feet.

Malja's head screamed at her audacity, pounding her brain against her skull with every heartbeat, and she fought hard not to pass out. Zorum gazed down in disbelief as his innards flopped to the ground. He couldn't even muster a final word. His body dropped like a soulless bag of rotten meat.

Shocked silence hung in the air. Nobody moved.

Malja stood still. Breathing heavily. Eyeing every Dragonfly she could see — there would be no more challenges.

Before she could speak a word, the Dragonflies prostrated themselves on the ground. Malja frowned. She'd never seen this kind of reaction before. But Tumus elbowed Malja, and the answer came to her without looking. She could feel their presence like the shadow of a predator darkening over sleeping prey. She peeked over her shoulder, knowing exactly whose appearance had caused the sudden change.

Jarik and Callib.

They floated over the wreckage Malja and her friends had wrought, looking every bit as strong and virile as they had at the Bluesmen's house. Bald, shirtless, tattooed — power radiated from them like a sun. Basking below them, their entourage of magicians floated and focused.

As they neared, Jarik turned his jaded but sad eyes upon Malja. She wanted to leap in the air, berate them for all the sorrow they had caused, and slay them with merciless blows. But more than just exhaustion stopped her. A strange emotion roiled underneath her hate — a desire to curl up and go unnoticed. Not a need to hide, but rather a hope to become small.

Callib leveled a stark, penetrating glare at the Dragonfly army and said, "You have made a mess of this place. If you can't handle the simple job of being guards, what good are you?"

"W-We're sorry," one Dragonfly woman said.

"I have made you all, and I can unmake you. Don't fail me again. Where is the Factory King?"

In a sturdier voice, the Dragonfly woman pointed at Malja and said, "She cut off his arms."

Callib faced Malja, and she felt the full weight of his gaze like a boulder sitting on her chest. It sent her mind swirling backwards — seven years old, caught in one of the many off-limits rooms, a broken beaker in her hand. She never could please Callib. It proved easier to disappoint.

"All of you will follow us to our home."

"I'm not here to follow you," Malja said, her brazen words surprising her as much as them. "I came to—"

Callib's hand sliced across the air as if he held a sword. "I know exactly why you came. Jarik may not have believed you were capable of patricide, but I never doubted."

"Malja," Jarik said, his voice firm but a tinge warmer. "Come with us. You won't be harmed. You may keep your weapons. Your friends won't be harmed."

"You can't hurt us anyway," Callib said.

"You've been gone a long time," Jarik said. "Ever since you came into our lives, we've worked tirelessly to find a way to send you home. Come with us and let us show you what we can now do."

"Besides," Callib said like a konapol lowering itself to strike, "we have Tommy."

They left the factory compound with Jarik and Callib leading the way while five magicians brought up the rear. They moved at a slow, somber pace as if in a funeral procession. Indeed, Tumus and Cole both cycled through fear of the magicians and grief over the loss of Skvalan.

Malja's heart hammered against her chest, but not for the same reasons — she dealt with fear through force and she knew death too well to grieve. But her fathers were a different matter. She tried to quell the emotional tornado tearing through her, but each time Jarik looked over his shoulder at her, the storm grew stronger. Callib, thankfully, never looked back.

She caught a glimpse of Fawbry and a different sensation trembled along her skin. Battle left varied scars on a person's mind. Fawbry displayed an odd serenity. She had seen that look before — a man shaken enough by his experiences that he became so determined, so confident, all logical caution was abandoned. It was the look of a warrior believing in a righteous quest. Such things could be a great advantage, but could be equally dangerous and unpredictable. And such things tended to be temporary. One other explanation existed, and Malja hoped this to be true — that Fawbry was in shock.

The block they proceeded up barely resembled a city. Only a few buildings still stood — skeletons of brick, metal, and jagged glass. The rest littered the streets in uneven piles. The blocks ahead had become a trash dump.

Callib raised his left hand, glanced at the sawtooth tattoo there, and with a casual flick of the wrist, created four balls of light. The lights each took a corner surrounding the group and followed them as they moved through the dark, empty streets. Tumus and Fawbry gasped — neither had ever seen magic executed with such ease.

Malja, however, had seen plenty of it. She would not let Callib's little display intimidate her.
They are the bastard magicians, and they deserve all my rage.

Only thoughts of Tommy kept Malja from attacking. Callib said they had Tommy, and Malja forced herself to wait until she saw the boy. Once she knew Tommy was alive and safe, she would let this tornado within her loose.

A grave smile crossed Malja's lips. Her thoughts were bold and full of pride. She hoped she could live up to them.

Ahead, the city seemed to disappear. For just a second, Malja's step hesitated.

Cole whispered, "It's okay."

The street ended without warning — just a sheer drop as if the ground had been gouged out by an angry witch. Malja could not make out the other end. Darkness and fog filled the chasm. Out of the darkness emerged what passed for a bridge — a haphazard framework of rubble slammed together by a drunk.

Jarik and Callib led the group onto the bridge. Its rough surface creaked under their weight. Half-way across, they stopped. Jarik faced the empty darkness. He raised his right arm and cocked his head so he could focus on the tattoo wrapping around his bicep.

Callib said, "This is where everything ended and everything began. This is the true location where the Devastation erupted. Others have claimed their paltry plots of land as the true location, but even Barris Mont's Dead Lake is not big enough."

"That's blasphemy," Tumus said.

"Not at all. The Devastation reshaped our entire world. It culled the weak and created opportunities for the strong. Magic of that magnitude would leave behind a grand mark. This crater is that mark."

"The Chi-Chun do not recognize—"

"I don't care what your little cult thinks. Here is where the Devastation began. A massive explosion of magic and fire that leveled the world. It blasted in all directions, even through the ground, and no doubt burst out in many places. Even your Dead Lake."

Jarik's body grew taut as if straining under a great weight. Callib turned his attention to the side of the bridge. With a brotherly smile, he patted Jarik's shoulders.

Malja stepped closer and peered over the edge. Under Callib's artificial lights, all she saw was a milky sea of fog.

Fawbry came up to her side. "Not very impressive."

But shadows formed beneath the waves. They grew larger, darker, thicker.

First, a tower broke the surface. This connected to the blocky architecture of a building out of Barris Mont's memory. It continued to rise, growing wider and gaining several smaller buildings at its sides.

Malja remembered the smaller, earthier house they had raised her in. More than anything else, seeing barbed wire surround the roofs and iron bars block the windows convinced Malja of the threats Jarik and Callib feared. They had built a fortress to live in.

The building continued to rise causing Fawbry to audibly gasp. He leaned back, gawking at the building's height. The bottom level finally came to rest flush with the bridge. The lesser magicians wasted no time getting through the entrance's massive double doors. Several looked back at Jarik and Callib like dogs eager for permission. Others rushed ahead for sanctuary.

Jarik exhaled and let his shoulders slump. Malja expected the entire building to plummet back into the chasm with the magicians screaming all the way down, but it held steady. Apparently, moving the building required much stronger magic than parking it.

Callib kissed the top of Jarik's head. "It still amazes me when you pull off that spell."

"It's getting easier. A few more times and it won't take half what it takes out of me now."

"With Malja here now, my dear brother, we won't need this place. We'll have castles all over the world."

As they stepped inside the building, a disturbing thought flashed through Malja's head —
we might not get out again.
She clenched her fists and sneered. She should be thinking like the warrior she was — not some prissy weakling worried about breaking a bone or losing a limb.

The foyer of this floating city block could have had no other purpose than to intimidate. Huge columns rose upward to meet the ceiling seven stories away. The walls were uneven like a cavern yet they had a geometric quality as well — long, flat rectangles like crystal sticks cut at irregular heights.

Two mammoth-sized statues made up the far wall. One of Jarik, one of Callib — each sitting upright as both the guard and the ruler, each scowling as they looked upon all who entered. Between these statutes was a normal-sized door. Guarding the door stood one maxdin — eight feet tall, coarse hair, claws and teeth.

The softest sounds echoed and amplified and mutated in the open space, surrounding visitors with strange, deep tones that chilled the skin. Malja had seen many extravagant rulers build many extravagant homes, but this surpassed any of her experiences. And while this foyer succeeded in composing awe and a sense of power, Malja wondered if this boasting through architecture undercut their strength as well. The most fearsome warriors she had ever fought almost always downplayed their appearance — choosing to dress like a commoner rather than in something that showed off muscles or weapons or power.

Whatever the case, Malja had had enough. Despite the turmoil spinning her stomach and the weariness aching her bones, she found it easy to pour herself into saving Tommy. Jarik and Callib, her fathers and enemies, lost importance to her. The portal frame that could open up other worlds but Cole feared would bring about another Devastation meant nothing. Tommy was the sole thought that stood in Malja's brain unmarred by conflicting ideas.

"Where's Tommy? You said you had him, bring him to us."

Jarik said, "She is plucky."

"You should know the only reason I haven't cut you both down is because of Tommy."

Callib raised his top lip as if smelling something vile. "Be careful how you estimate yourself," he said, opening both hands towards her. "You are no more than a rat."

Malja's hand reached back for Viper even as her nerves jangled across her body. Jarik pushed between them. "Callib, control yourself," he said.

"Control myself? If you had shown more control years ago, we wouldn't have to deal with her now." Callib broke away, throwing an angry charge of electricity into the air. "
No, Callib, I promise, she's dead.
But that wasn't true, was it? Cowardice got the better of you. You took one look in those little girl eyes and just had to leave her instead of doing what you should have done. And now look at this mess."

"Just because I didn't handle it the way you wanted doesn't mean I didn't handle it."

"Leaving her for dead is very different than what I ordered you to do."

"Your mistake is thinking you can order me to do anything at all. We either work together or you can—"

Callib flapped his arms as he headed through the door by the statues. The maxdin straightened when the magician neared. "Enough already. Calm down. I'll get the boy prepared. When I come back, try to be more civil."

Jarik closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath before facing Malja. "Wait here," he said.

As he walked out of the foyer, he gestured to the maxdin and the creature followed him, ducking low to get through the door. Cole crossed her arms and snickered. "My, my. Those two boys are gonna kill each other."

"They've been together longer than I've been alive," Malja said.