Taniel gasped in ragged breaths. Had his ribs been broken?
A small crowd gathered around Taniel. He heard voices asking if he was all right. A gentleman nudged Taniel’s arm with his cane. A woman screamed.
Only one kind of creature could have hit Taniel that hard.
A Warden.
Taniel snatched the gentleman’s cane, ignoring a shout of protest, and pushed himself to his feet in time to see a young woman thrown to the ground as the Warden pushed past her and grasped Taniel by the throat with both hands.
Steel jutted from the Warden’s throat and stopped mere inches from Taniel’s eyes. The Warden threw him to the ground and whirled, to reveal a stiletto jammed into the back of his neck right at the spine. The Warden gurgled, and attacked Fell, who danced out of the way quicker than Taniel would have given her credit for.
Taniel leapt to his feet and brought the cane down on the back of the Warden’s head. The hardwood cane splintered from the force of the blow.
The Warden barely flinched. He turned toward Taniel, then back at Fell, as if trying to decide which threat to attack. While they watched, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and with the other hand reached back and slid the stiletto from his own spine. Vile, black blood spurted from the hole in his neck. Taniel heard someone be violently sick on the street.
The Warden pushed his handkerchief into his wound to stop the bleeding. The whole grisly procedure had taken less than five or six seconds. The Warden then turned on Fell, leaping quickly.
Taniel was ready. He jumped forward, holding the jagged end of the broken cane like a dagger in one hand. He drew back his arm to ram it into the Warden’s back.
Something hit Taniel from the side. His teeth rattled. His vision went dark.
A second later and Taniel was staring up into the distorted face of another Warden. The Warden had his knee on Taniel’s chest and his hands closed around Taniel’s throat. Taniel squirmed, but he didn’t have the strength to fight. He needed powder.
Taniel was able to bring his knee up between them, pushing the Warden’s weight off his chest. He brought the broken cane around with his one free arm and stabbed it deep into the Warden’s arm. The Warden laughed and put his knee back on Taniel’s chest.
Taniel groaned as the knee was pushed into his sternum with additional weight. Ka-poel was on the Warden’s back. She stabbed her long needle into the Warden’s spine again and again. The Warden shook like a bull trying to throw off an unwanted rider. Taniel thought he felt something pop in his chest.
The Warden stood, unable to get Ka-poel off his back, and Taniel gasped, feeling the air rush back into his lungs with exhilaration. He needed to get out. To get away. He needed powder.
He rolled onto his belly and lurched up to his knees. The Warden lashed out with one boot, kicking Taniel back to the cobbles. Taniel struggled to his feet. Behind him, Ka-poel fought to stay on the Warden’s back as he reached his over-long arms out behind him to try to peel her off.
People were calling for the city police now. The crowds had gathered, but kept their distance.
Ka-poel couldn’t win this fight. But then, neither could Taniel. He reached out with his senses. There had to be powder around here somewhere. Someone had to have some.
He stumbled over to a young man in a bowler cap who was carrying a rifle over one shoulder. It was a Hrusch, and it looked freshly bought – it hadn’t once been fired. Taniel grasped the young man by the front of his shirt. “Your powder horn! Give it to me!”
The young man tried to pull away. Taniel reached into his kit and felt his hand close around the smooth cylindrical shape of the powder horn. He wrenched it out of the bag triumphantly and spun back to see Ka-poel still on the Warden’s back, if only barely.
“Pole, down!”
Ka-poel released her grip and was thrown to one side. Taniel held the powder horn like a grenade and threw it overhand. He reached out with his mind to ignite the powder and warp the blast to blow the creature to bits.
Nothing happened.
The Warden caught the powder horn in one hand. He stared Taniel in the eye and flipped the horn around so the tapered end pointed toward himself, and bit through the horn. Powder spilled out from between his lips. His tongue lapped at the powder, grinding it between his teeth.
Taniel backed up until he thumped against the young man he’d stolen the powder horn from.
“Charges,” he said. “I need powder charges!” A cold sweat broke out on Taniel’s forehead. This Warden. This thing…
The young man turned and ran. Taniel heard screams and saw more people fleeing. He felt his boot hit something as he tried to step back again. The young man had dropped both his kit and his rifle.
Taniel rummaged inside the kit quickly, sure not to take his eyes off the Warden. There was a handful of powder charges. He crushed the end of one between his fingers and drew a line of the black powder on the back of his hand. The Warden was still eating the powder from the powder horn. All of it.
It didn’t make sense, but somehow the Warden was a twisted reflection of Taniel himself. This Warden was a powder mage.
Taniel snorted the powder.
For a few moments, Taniel thought he might faint. At the edge of his vision the world went dark before suddenly becoming so stark it hurt his eyes. He flexed his hands, then felt his chest. No pain. He gritted his teeth and took the rifle in both hands.
The Warden charged him without warning. Taniel stepped to one side and gripped the barrel with both hands, bringing the stock back over his shoulder and whipping it out and around into the Warden’s face.
The hickory stock shattered and the Warden went down with a satisfying thump. He flopped onto his stomach and pushed himself to his knees, then rammed himself into Taniel’s chest.
Taniel backpedaled, trying to stay on his feet. He wouldn’t be able to wrestle a Warden down on the ground – not if the Warden was in a powder trance. Taniel set one foot behind him to stop his backward movement and wrapped his arms around the Warden’s middle. He jerked the Warden off balance and let go.
The Warden rolled away from Taniel and slowly got to his feet.
The creature’s face was a mess of pulped flesh and slivers of wood. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. He bared his teeth at Taniel. Half of them were missing.
“What the pit are you?” Taniel said.
The Warden cocked his head to one side. He lifted his brown hair, which was tied loosely over his right shoulder in a ponytail, to reveal the raised red welt of a brand. The image of a rifle about the length of a man’s finger had been burned into his skin.
It was the brand that Kez Privileged gave to powder mages before their execution.
The Warden let his hair fall back into place. He watched Taniel for a moment, then looked to his side. Ka-poel was there, her long needle in hand, crouched low. She snarled at the Warden.
“Pole, get back…”
The Warden leapt toward Ka-poel. He moved with incredible speed, crossing the distance in the blink of an eye.
Taniel was faster now that he was in his powder trance. He shot toward the Warden, only to see the Warden twist at the last second. Taniel’s fist soared past the Warden’s face and he felt the Warden’s fingers tighten around his neck once again.
The Warden wouldn’t try to choke him this time. He’d wring Taniel’s neck, snapping it like a child snaps a matchstick.
Taniel jabbed his hand at the Warden’s chest. The Warden barely grunted. Taniel jabbed again and again, lightning fast. He felt the Warden’s fingers lose their strength. Ka-poel threw herself at the Warden. He backhanded her, tossing her to the cobbles.