Onyx kicked a body out of his way and kept coming. “Morden wouldn’t shut up about you, you know that?” The sword whipped out and I dodged back. “‘You should get on with Verus.’ ‘You should work things out with Verus.’ ‘You and Verus could learn from each other.’” Another slash; again I dodged. “Without the fateweaver, you’re nothing. I beat you every time. You were the one who kept running away. And then Morden picks you for his aide. I was his Chosen.” He slashed again. “It should have been me!”
This time I stepped into the blow, ducking down. Onyx’s blade snipped a few strands of my hair as the chain whipped out to coil around his leg. Force shields are good at absorbing blows, but they don’t do much to stop a pull. I jerked Onyx’s leg out and he hit the floor, the blade vanishing as his concentration wavered.
I struck down, using the chain as a whip. Onyx threw up his arms, and the steel links glanced off his shield. I hit once, twice, then Onyx lashed out, force blades exploding upwards.
I was already stepping away, curving the futures to a point. The blades hit the ceiling above, tearing through a support beam, and with a groan a section of ceiling collapsed, burying Onyx in debris. I ran to the corner, snatched up the sword.
Onyx was pulling himself out of the rubble, covered in dust. Force shards sprayed from his hands, but he was too angry to keep tight control anymore and I easily opened up a channel, walking through unharmed. I struck at Onyx’s head, and the force blade sprang back to his hand as he parried.
“I’m going to rip off your face and send it to Morden in a fucking envelope!” Onyx slashed high and low; I ducked the first and parried the second. Onyx clambered over another body and kept coming. He was breathing heavily, and it wasn’t just anger anymore. Onyx might be a battle-mage, but he’d spent the last few years living in a mansion with lackeys to do his fighting and slaves to do his chores, and he was slowing down.
Onyx tried to ram his blade through my chest and I stepped in, hitting him with the sword’s pommel, then followed up as he stumbled. He aimed a spell that would have torn me in half, but it hit only air and I stabbed down through a gap in his shield, gashing his leg. Onyx tried to blast me again but I was already jumping away.
“Going to kill you,” Onyx said. He was short of breath, having trouble talking. “Morden shouldn’t have . . . Going to show him.”
I studied Onyx’s movements in the present and futures. They were getting sluggish, but his shield was still strong. I widened my focus, searching for options.
Onyx came in again, slashing, and this time I stepped aside, striking his leg. It glanced off but made Onyx stumble, and before he could recover I was on top of him, switching hands. Onyx slashed wildly; I parried left-handed, feeling the sword crack under Onyx’s blade, and rammed my fist into his shield.
Magic flashed white, the energy of the fateweaver attacking Onyx’s shield, planes of forces splintering and breaking. Onyx couldn’t reach me with his blade; he let it vanish and thrust his hand at me, trying to tear me apart point-blank. I ducked under his arm, used a shoulder throw. Onyx hit the floor on his back; his concentration wavered and in the instant before it recovered, I drove the sword down two-handed through the weakened section of shield.
The blade went through Onyx’s stomach with a shthunk, pinning him to the floor. His eyes went wide and he lost his breath in a huff. I met Onyx’s gaze, staring down at him as I leant on the sword. “Morden left you,” I told him clearly, “because you were stupid.”
Onyx’s face twisted in rage and I jumped back. Shards and beams of force lashed out, smashing holes in the ceiling and exploding crates into splinters. I ran back, picking out the futures in which I was safe, looking for the item I needed. It was lying near the door, clipped to one of the bodies, and I caught it up.
“You’re dead!” Onyx screamed. He couldn’t get up with the sword pinning him to the floor, but he still lashed out, spells tearing apart the walls. He twisted his head to try to see me, feet scrabbling and murder in his face.
I rose, standing calmly side-on as force blades hissed past. Behind me, the door blew out in a spray of splinters. I pulled the pin from the grenade, waited a second, tossed it.
Onyx saw it coming and threw up a barrier, but my throw had been high. The grenade arced over Onyx, hit the shattered legs of the statue, bounced back. The sword was still piercing Onyx, blocking his shield from fully regenerating. The grenade hit the gap between the edge of his shield and the blade, rattled back and forth, dropped through. Onyx had just enough time to look down before it went off.
I was already ducking for cover. The explosion was muffled, with an odd echo to it, wet and splattering.
And then everything was quiet.
I stood up, studied my handiwork. Onyx’s shield had contained the explosion, focusing it inwards. What was left of his body was barely recognisable. The snapped-off blade of the sword still pinned the red mess to the floor. All around were the bodies of his men. Smoke and dust hung in the air. The air smelt metallic, gun smoke and blood.
Well, I thought, looking down at my hand. Not bad for a first try.
I walked to the ruins of the statue, brushed rubble and dust off my folded armour, picked it up along with my dreamstone and the cube. Then I looked over at Selene.
Selene flinched at my gaze. She was pressed into the corner of the room, dust coating her hair and clothes. “Are there any more?” I asked.
Selene swallowed, speaking carefully. “No.”
I nodded. “Come with me.”
Slowly, Selene rose. She was clearly terrified, but more terrified of what I might do if she disobeyed. She stopped as far away as she dared, avoiding looking down at the bodies.
I walked out the door and down the corridor, Selene following at a distance. Luna, I said through the dreamstone. You’re clear to gate.
You’re back? Are you okay? Where are Onyx and Pyre?
I’m fine. As for Onyx and Pyre, you can come see for yourself.
I turned the corner to see the two girls we’d met in the kitchens. They were hovering in the main hall. The fat-faced one who’d tried to raise the alarm saw me, and her eyes went wide. “Hey!” she shouted. “It’s him!”
I looked back at her.
The girl opened a side door and ran off in the direction of the storeroom, shouting. “Hey! It’s that Verus guy! He’s here! Hey!”
As her voice trailed away, I looked at the other girl. “Your masters are dead. You can stay, or go.”
She looked back at me uncertainly.
The shouts for help in the distance cut off abruptly, followed by shrieks. Apparently the first girl had reached the storeroom. The shrieks continued, and the other girl looked in that direction, eyes wide, and bolted.
I carried on walking. Selene trailed me at a careful distance. “Kyle and my friends are coming,” I told her. “You can stay with him, or I can take you somewhere else. What do you want?”
Selene hesitated.
“It’s not a trick question.”
“Could I . . . think about it?”
I nodded. “We’ll be leaving in an hour or so. You’ve got until then.”
We’d reached the front door. I opened it, walked out onto the patio, sat down on the steps. Light pooled around me from the windows and outside lamps of the mansion; all around was darkness. Selene hung back in the doorway. Off to the left, in the black shadow of the hill, I felt a gate spell and knew it was Vari. I laid my armour and items down and sat on the steps, the summer air warm against my bare skin, and waited for my friends.