And Richard was struggling. He was good – maybe as good as me – and he had that jinn, but I had the fateweaver and a better weapon and a stronger right arm. A blow battered through his defences, scoring a gash across his body armour; he blocked the next strike, but the one after that tore open a webbing pouch, scattering its contents on the floor. I could hear his breathing, harsh and ragged – was there fear in those brown eyes? Richard tried to call up some kind of spell, but I was on him instantly and this time he took a cut to his forearm. I was pouring everything I had into the fateweaver, forcing the futures towards ones where my blows landed. It was the most energy I’d ever put into the thing and I knew I couldn’t keep this up but I wouldn’t have to: Richard was being overwhelmed. He wasn’t trying to attack or get away any more, all his attention was on the next parry. Sweat soaked my clothes and my muscles were crying out, but Richard was slowing down too. A little more—
Pain stabbed through my chest. I ignored it, brought the sovnya down in a crushing blow that cut Richard’s shoulder through his armour. He backed away towards the wall and—
—the pain stabbed again, sharper and stronger. It didn’t stop; it pulsed, and kept pulsing in time with the beating of—
—my heart.
No! Panic filled me. No, no! Not now! Not NOW! Desperately I tried to keep up the attack, but pain flooded my body; my head swam and I stumbled. Richard was backpedalling, watching me with a calculating gaze. I tried to chase after him, but the cramp grew worse, stronger with each beat. I chased him, but I couldn’t catch him and the agony in my chest grew worse and worse until it seized up.
My vision greyed out for a moment, and when it came back I was on one knee. I tried to get back up and couldn’t.
It was over.
‘Well,’ Richard said from a distance. ‘You certainly made that as difficult as possible.’
I couldn’t answer. My breath was coming in short, quick gasps. I could just barely pull enough air into my lungs, but my heart was fluttering, beating in fits and starts. The only way I could keep it going was by using the fateweaver to push through the futures in which I stayed alive . . . except that using the fateweaver was making it worse.
There was no way out.
‘What a pathetic ending,’ Richard said. He was still breathing hard and he looked hurt, but he could move and I couldn’t. He retracted the staff with a metallic shikk, then circled to put me between him and the wall; another tremor shook the keep and he paused until the floor had stopped quaking. ‘Killed by your own weapon.’
The sovnya quivered in my hand; it wanted so badly to kill Richard, but he was staying out of reach. I stared daggers at him but there was nothing I could do.
‘I have to admit,’ Richard said, ‘after all the trouble you’ve caused, I’m tempted to make this slow and painful.’ He considered a moment, then shook his head. ‘No, one should stay practical about these things.’ He drew a second gun, a small holdout, and levelled it at me. Somehow it didn’t surprise me that he had two. ‘Die.’
The gun cracked and I sent a thread of magic through the bullet ward. The very weakness of the focus saved me; its energy requirements were so low that I could still power it. The bullets glanced away.
Richard paused, then sent a twisting line of black wires at my head. I changed my focus through the fateweaver, and twitched the sovnya. The wires curved in to strike the blade and were absorbed.
‘Really, Alex?’ Richard said. ‘You’re going to make me do this?’ He drew a knife.
Richard walked forward. My eyes flicked past him, around the room, searching desperately for some advantage, some trick. There was nothing. Scatterings of rubble around the edges, the duelling ring under Richard’s feet, Anne lying behind him . . .
Anne. Arachne’s dress.
I levelled the sovnya at Richard, and as I did I reached out with my magic, channelling a thread of power into the imbued item behind.
The dress responded instantly. Spells activated and began to work, weaving at lightning speed. I could recognise the signature of Arachne’s magic, tightly woven and subtle. The spell was enormously powerful, but so well-masked I could hardly sense it.
Richard paused just out of my range. I could barely move; once he got inside the polearm’s reach, it would be over. I kept the sovnya pointed at him with my left arm, while with my right hand I drew my gun.
Agony flooded my body and my vision went white. Richard could have killed me in that instant but I was still blocking his divination, and as my vision came back I saw that he’d used the time to put his shield back up. Black energy flickered where the gun was pointing, while with his other hand he held the knife point upwards. Its edge gleamed faintly in the light.
I’d slumped the rest of the way to the floor, propped up on my side and one elbow. The sovnya trembled as I kept it and the gun levelled. Richard held the shield ready to block any shots, his stance wary.
‘You’re only making this harder on yourself,’ Richard told me. I saw his eyes flicker and knew he was calculating how to get close enough to cut my throat. Behind him, Arachne’s spell was working, repairing the damage to Anne’s mind, but it needed time. I saw Richard tense, about to move—
Hermes blinked into existence right in front of me.
Richard paused. Hermes crouched protectively in front of my body and gave a sharp, threatening bark.
Richard gave the fox an exasperated look. ‘Oh, come on.’
Richard took a step to the right. Hermes shifted to keep himself between Richard and me. Richard moved back to the left, and again Hermes mirrored him.
‘For heaven’s sake, Alex,’ Richard said. ‘First you and your girlfriend, now you want me to kill your pet as well?’
I didn’t answer. I was keeping up the optasia, forcing my lungs to breathe, training my weapons on Richard, and pushing the fateweaver to keep my heart just barely beating. It was straining me to my limit and I had nothing left to guard against an attack.
But Richard didn’t know that. I saw his eyes flick between the sovnya and the gun and Hermes; none were a threat on their own but there was no easy way for him to kill me without leaving himself open. Hermes growled, his tail bushed up.
Another quake shook the keep, and Richard staggered. The motion jolted my chest and white spots danced before my eyes. My muscles were trembling and it was all I could do to hold up my weapons.
Behind Richard, Anne stirred.
As the floor steadied, Anne rose. She came to her feet with a liquid flowing movement, like a shadow on the wall. I saw her gaze lock onto Richard; ahead of her, Richard recovered his balance and prepared to move.
I looked up at Richard and smiled.
Richard stared back at me, then understanding flashed in his eyes and he spun.
Anne was sprinting, low to the ground, long legs carrying her across the duelling ring as they’d done so many times before. Richard’s arm came up, the magic of his jinn darkening into a black shield, a killing spell gathering at his palm.
I levelled my gun at Richard’s back, the barrel trembling. It was hard to see but I put everything I had into the fateweaver, willing Richard’s death, and as I did I dropped the optasia and saw every future but one blink out.
The trembling stopped.
I fired.