Yes.
Ji-yeong said something angry in Korean, then switched back to English. You know, fine! You want me? Call off your dogs and come get me yourself!
You mean the jann? I asked. They’re not mine.
You came with her, didn’t you?
I’m not on her side, and I’m not on yours.
Ji-yeong paused, and when her thoughts came again they felt more cautious. What do you want?
Information, I told her. Here’s the deal. Answer my questions and do as I say, and in exchange I’ll get you out of your current mess and keep you safe.
Sagash isn’t going to let you— Ji-yeong began, then cut off abruptly and lashed out with her sword. The nearest jann jumped back; a ripple went through the crowd, and other jann edged closer.
I don’t think Sagash is your biggest problem at the moment, I told Ji-yeong once the jann had settled down.
What the hell are you going to do? Ji-yeong demanded. Her thoughts were keyed-up, tense. If you aren’t with her, those things aren’t going to obey you.
No.
You’re a diviner, right? You going to kill them from up there?
No.
So what are you going to do? Stab them all to death?
Yes.
Ji-yeong laughed. I’d like to see you try.
Do we have a deal?
Sure. Why not? It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose.
Good.
I hopped down to ground level and started walking across the rooftop. As I did, I spun my weapon into a ready position. It was a polearm called a sovnya, a slightly curved scimitar-like blade mounted on the end of a long shaft. I held it one-handed, arm extended, the blade low above the flagstones.
I was clearly visible on the empty rooftop and it didn’t take long for the jann at the back of the crowd to notice me. Two of them turned, faceless and eyeless; any sound they might have made was carried away by the wind. I kept walking and the two of them loped forward, splitting up to come at me from both sides.
Futures unfolded before me. The one on the left would feint, trying to draw my attention from the one on the right. If I turned right, the one on the left would strike instead. A simple attack, a simple counter.
The jann moved into their attack pattern and I showed them what they were expecting. The right one hovered just out of reach as the left lunged. Without turning to look, I reversed the sovnya and thrust, feeling the shudder as the weapon bit. The jann in front hesitated; I waited exactly one second, then brought the sovnya around to meet its lunge. The blade bisected it at the shoulder, the jann’s shadowy flesh igniting with red light. Its body fell to the stone in two halves, flaming and burning. The sovnya pulsed greedily, hungry for more.
In the time it had taken me to kill the first two jann, five more had noticed me. They turned and attacked, fanning out to come from all directions.
Four died in eight seconds. The fifth backed away as the rest of the crowd finally started to take me seriously.
In the old days, I would never have taken this fight. My divination shows an enemy’s weaknesses, tells me what to expect and where to move, but against this many enemies, that’s not enough. Sooner or later you’ll get tired, or they’ll come from too many angles, and you’ll get overwhelmed.
But in the old days I hadn’t had a set of reactive armour that could shed a strike from a jann’s claws, stiffening at the point of impact to deflect the blow. And I hadn’t had the sovnya, a weapon forged to kill magical creatures. The polearm burned with a fierce light, its blade cutting through the jann’s bodies like a flaming sword through cobwebs. I’m better with a knife than with a spear, but the sovnya knew how it wanted to be used; it was less like wielding a weapon and more like fighting with a very close partner.
And most of all, I had the fateweaver. As I danced through the futures, I didn’t just see them, I changed them. Small touches to possibilities, closing off some paths, widening others. I nudged the movements of the jann so that they were never quite co-ordinated, never attacking in exactly the right way. Every time one was in a position to threaten me, I’d shift things so that I’d have an extra half-second to react before they could strike.
Superior intelligence; superior weaponry; better defence; fate manipulation. You can overcome one of those advantages, if you have an edge of your own. Maybe two. Not all four.
The jann died, their bodies falling to the stone to burn from the inside out as the sovnya consumed them. The only sounds were the stutter and scrape of footsteps, and the roar of the wind, interrupted by the high-pitched whine of the jann’s death screams. By the time the remaining jann realised that they should run, it was far too late. They were backed down onto the stairs, trapped between Ji-yeong and me with an endless drop on both sides.
Six jann left. Four flung themselves at me, trying to escape. Three, then two, then one. The last managed to pass me and almost made it to the top of the steps before the sovnya took off its leg.
The two at the back went after Ji-yeong. I could have moved in to finish them, but instead I stopped to watch. Ji-yeong engaged the first, blocking with the shield, stabbing with the sword. Her movements were unnaturally quick; in my magesight, I could see the green lace of life magic twined around her limbs.
The first jann opened up a gash on Ji-yeong’s arm; blood welled up but she ignored it and closed the distance, ramming her sword into the thing’s body over and over again until it shuddered and fell to the stone. The second jann ripped Ji-yeong’s back with its claws; she whirled and slammed it with her shield. The jann stumbled back over the edge, falling silently down and down to disappear into the haze below.
Ji-yeong turned to me, breathing hard.
‘You’ve gotten better,’ I told her.
The green light of Ji-yeong’s life magic wove around her wounds. The gash on her arm stopped bleeding and pulled together, the edges of the cut binding to leave smooth pale skin. A glow from behind showed that the same was happening to the tear on her back. In only a few seconds, she was healthy again. She straightened and looked at me, her eyes flicking to my weapon and armour.
I turned and climbed the stairs. Once back on the rooftop, I walked twenty feet, then turned and waited.
Ji-yeong followed me up. She moved out onto the rooftop cautiously, glancing from left to right. ‘Decision time,’ I said, raising my voice to be heard above the wind.
‘What?’
I gestured to the open rooftop. ‘You want to try and take me, now’s your chance.’
Ji-yeong hesitated for a long second, futures flickering. Battle, flight, submission. One future eclipsed the others as she made her choice. Her stance relaxed slightly and she wiped off her sword, then slid it back into its sheath.
I nodded. ‘Follow me.’
I took a winding route back across the battlements, Ji-yeong trailing me at a distance. Once I reached the tower I’d been using as a vantage point, I stopped in front of the doorway. That door led into a spiral staircase that would take me to the top of the tower. I crouched, then leapt.
Air magic surged from the metal headband around my brow and a rush of wind hurled me upward, bearing me thirty times farther than I could have jumped on my own. I soared up and over the tower’s parapet and landed lightly on its roof. Then I turned toward the open stairwell leading down into the tower, and waited.