Ka-poel’s hood had fallen back in the struggle. Her eyes were wide, her short red hair wild. She lifted her chin under Taniel’s brief scrutiny. The moment was over, and she wicked a drop of blood off the end of her long needle and darted forward, drawing her belt knife to saw through Taniel’s bonds.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Taniel said.
She finished cutting his bonds and thrust a powder horn into his hands. He tore the plug out with his teeth. The powder poured into his mouth, tasting sulfuric on his tongue, crunching between his teeth. He sputtered and choked, but forced himself to swallow a mouthful of black powder.
The powder trance raced through him, warming his body, tightening his muscles. The pain of his wounds and bruises faded to the back of his mind.
Ka-poel finished dispatching the four guards with her belt knife. She stood up and sniffed, wiping the blood off.
Taniel looked around. Despite the activity in the camp, plenty of soldiers had begun to notice their fight. An officer was running toward them at the head of a squad, pointing and shouting for others.
Taniel rubbed at his wrists. He and Ka-poel were in the center of the Kez army, completely cut off and with no hope of rescue. He’d have to kill a hundred thousand men to escape this.
“Pole.” He bent at the knee, fetching one of the guard’s muskets, and winced. Not enough powder in the world to completely drown out the pain. “I don’t think we’re going to get through this.”
Ka-poel surveyed the Kez army, like a general surveying her troops.
Taniel hefted the musket. It was a cheap make, nothing like the Hrusch rifle he was used to. He retrieved the bayonet from the guard’s kit and fitted it into place. It would have to do. The Kez were coming – fifty, maybe more now. And any fighting would bring the notice of the rest of the army.
“Pole,” he said, “I love you.”
Ka-poel touched one finger to her heart, then pointed at him. She tossed her satchel on the ground in front of her. It landed with the top open, and she lifted her hand.
Her dolls began to rise out of the satchel. Taniel remembered the fight at Kresim Kurga and the power she had shown.
“It won’t be enough this time, Pole.”
The dolls kept coming. Ten. Fifty. A hundred. A thousand.
An impossible number rose out of the satchel and spread out evenly in the air surrounding them.
The Kez soldiers had come to a stop twenty paces away and were watching her sorcery, perplexed. A Kez captain lifted his hand. “Load!”
Taniel ignited their powder with a thought. Muskets ripped apart and powder horns exploded and the air filled with the scent of spent powder and the sound of screams.
“A powder mage!” someone yelled. The call went on through the camp as soldiers discarded their muskets and scrambled for swords and knives. More men came running – first a trickle, then in force. Taniel gripped the barrel of his musket and prepared for the fight.
It started as a small, out-of-place movement in the corner of his eye. A Kez soldier stopped in the middle of the camp and rammed his bayonet into the neck of the man beside him. The soldier seemed perplexed at what he’d just done before he suddenly turned and cracked his musket butt across the teeth of another Kez infantryman.
Another soldier suddenly held his powder horn up to his flintlock and pulled the trigger, blowing himself and three of his companions to the pit.
Fistfights broke out, and the tide of Kez soldiers heading toward Taniel and Ka-poel began to ebb as they turned on one another.
Ka-poel stood, legs braced, eyes on her dolls as if she were examining a chessboard. Around her, the dolls were moving of their own accord. Some of them fought each other, while others tumbled and stabbed at shadows. Taniel felt a terrible fear grip him. She was controlling an entire army, thousands all at once!
An unoccupied infantryman charged Taniel.
Taniel slapped aside the thrust of a bayonet and rammed his own through the infantryman’s eye.
“We should go,” he said to Pole. “You can’t keep them forever.”
Ka-poel caught his sleeve and made the shape of a gun with one hand, pointing at her dolls.
“You want me to shoot them?”
A nod.
Taniel dropped the butt of the musket to the ground and quickly loaded it. Lifting it to his shoulder, he looked to Ka-poel for confirmation.
She made a hurrying motion with one hand.
Taniel aimed at her field of dolls and pulled the trigger.
A sound like thunder cracked out of the late-morning air, sending Kez soldiers diving for cover. A nearby soldier suddenly splattered across a tent like he’d been hit by a cannonball. Taniel could hear the cries of dismay, and someone shouted, “Artillery fire!”
Ka-poel threw her head back in a silent laugh.
“That’s sadistic,” Taniel said. He grabbed her by the hand. “Let’s go.”
They raced through the Kez camp, heading toward the eastern mountains that lined Surkov’s Alley. Ka-poel’s dolls kept pace with them, floating, fighting shadows. By the time they reached the edge of the Kez camp and began to climb the nearest hill, the number of dolls had diminished.
Ka-poel panted heavily as they climbed. Taniel looked behind them. No one was following, but it wouldn’t be long until they did. He pulled on her arm and felt her sag to the ground, her eyes suddenly cloudy from exhaustion. Taniel swung his musket onto his shoulder and then lifted Ka-poel in his arms, continuing to run.
The hill grew steeper, and Taniel soon found himself climbing more than running. He was forced to set Ka-poel on a large rock in the scree and pause to rest, turning to look at the valley.
They weren’t being chased.
The entire Kez camp was in an uproar. Brother fought brother. A weak Privileged was slinging sorcery in a panic. Wardens were trying to restore order by killing “ringleaders” in a perceived uprising among the troops – it only added to the chaos.
All because of Ka-poel’s dolls.
Taniel uncorked his powder horn and poured a measure onto the back of his hand. He snorted it. The immediate danger may have passed, but the Kez could still send infantry or even riders after them. There’d be no getting away if they did. He could feel fatigue circling him, like a pack of wolves around a wounded deer. The burning flame of his powder trance would go out soon. No amount of fuel would keep it going, and then he would be useless.
He and Ka-poel would need to walk the steepest part of the scree north for over three miles to get even with the Adran camp.
Then there was the matter of the traitor Hilanska.
Near the front line, the chaos seemed the least pronounced, and plenty of the Kez soldiers were still watching as Kresimir and Mihali spoke alone between the camps. The two gods faced each other, no more than a few feet apart. Taniel would have given a fair amount to read their lips. Neither seemed to notice or care about the confusion in the Kez camp.
Mihali reached out, resting a hand on Kresimir’s shoulder.
Kresimir shrugged it off.
Mihali spread his hands in a calming gesture. Kresimir raised one hand in the air, pointing at the sky, shouting something.
Mihali kept speaking. His lips barely moved and his face was serene.
It was several minutes that Mihali spoke. Much to Taniel’s surprise, Kresimir seemed to listen. The god’s hand fell to his side.
Back at the camp, chaos continued. Ka-poel’s floating dolls had dwindled to no more than a few dozen. She sat up, looking haggard and bruised, but a victorious smile played on her lips. Her attention seemed to be focused on the last dolls, and they were not disappearing as quickly as the earlier ones. She was fighting hard to keep those last few puppets alive.
Taniel watched the two gods. Kresimir and Mihali had edged closer to each other. Mihali was pointing to his opposite hand as if explaining something. Kresimir listened, brow furrowed.