She was so focused on the distant tramp of Dynize boots that she did not hear a single set of footsteps in the gravel behind her until they were almost upon her. She turned slightly, grasping the hilt of her sword. She wondered if a Dynize assassin had managed to sneak around her, or if Olem had escaped his ropes and come to try to talk her out of this.
“There are simpler ways to kill yourself, you know.”
Vlora looked up at Taniel as he came to stand beside her. “Shouldn’t you be with the capstone?” she asked.
“Shouldn’t you?” Taniel’s eyes were on the approaching Dynize column. They’d be here in less than ten minutes.
“I have other responsibilities.”
Taniel snorted. “If you were facing down a company, I’d think you heroic. But you can’t win this – not even a chance. There’s a whole field army coming out of those hills and you will not stop them.”
“I can slow them down.”
Taniel was silent for several moments. “Enough to make a difference?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think so.”
“Look, the Riflejacks are a week’s march from the coast. Then they have to find a harbor and ships to get them off the continent – if there even still is a safe harbor. If you gain them a few hours, it won’t mean a damned thing.”
Vlora lifted her sword, examining the blade for chips and flaws. It was in good condition, considering it had gone through several major battles with her. “Did Olem send you?”
“Nobody sent me. I caught wind and came myself. As far as I know, Olem is still trussed up like a pig per your orders. He’s never going to forgive you for this, you know.”
“I’m not terribly worried about that. And yes, I think a few hours will make a difference. My boys have orders to ditch the capstone if the Dynize get within five miles of them. Once the Dynize have both my corpse and the capstone, they’re going to reassess this merry little chase. The northern Fatrastan coast is still Lindet’s territory, and the Dynize will be hesitant to chase them too far. They might just decide to let the Riflejacks go.”
“Are you sure they will?”
“I am not.”
“And you’re willing to throw your life away on that uncertainty?”
“I am.”
Taniel gave an unhappy sigh. “Fine.” Vlora expected him to turn and stride off with a huff, but instead he removed his gloves – revealing his red hand – and then stripped off his jacket and folded it up, setting it on top of Vlora’s effects.
“What the pit are you doing?” Vlora asked.
Taniel didn’t answer her. He undid his cuffs and collar, then rolled up his sleeves. “Do you remember when we first met?”
It was an odd question. Vlora frowned at Taniel, watching as he dabbed out a bit of black powder onto the back of his hand and snorted it. “I do.”
“Do you remember the day Tamas adopted you?”
She forced herself to think back nearly two decades, picturing herself as a waif of a child, roaming the ins and outs of Hrusch Avenue, trying to survive between the uncaring streets and the cruelty of the orphanage. She’d met Taniel and Bo, and a cold-eyed gentleman whom she’d later come to know as Field Marshal Tamas. Vlora had gotten into some trouble, and Tamas had dueled a nobleman to save her life. He’d taken her in, given her a home, and trained her to be a powder mage.
“It’s hard to forget. It was the most terrifying and the happiest day of my life.”
Taniel gave her a peculiar look. “You’ve never been more terrified? With all you’ve been through?”
“I couldn’t protect myself back then. I can now.”
Taniel chuckled. “That’s fair. I don’t remember that day very well, but I do remember that night. Tamas took us all home. We had dinner together, back when we still did that, and I remember thinking how I’d never seen anyone eat so much. You didn’t want to leave the table, and fell asleep with your face next to your third helping of cherry tart. Tamas carried you to bed, tucked you in, and then he brought us in to see you while you were sleeping. Do you know what he said to us?”
Vlora’s face felt warm, her eyes moist. She blinked through a sudden haze. “No, I don’t.”
“He pointed to you and said, This is your little sister. I want you both to promise me that you’ll protect her, that the three of you will look out for each other even after I’m gone.” Taniel squinted into the distance. “I didn’t always get along with Tamas, but he protected the three of us until we could protect ourselves. Point being, I’m not going to leave you here to die alone.”
Vlora felt the color drain from her face. She stood up, facing Taniel. “Don’t do this. Don’t try to guilt me into coming with you so that you don’t have to die with me.”
“I’m not trying to guilt you. I’m fulfilling a promise I gave my father.” Taniel looked at her coldly. “And you will not deny me that.”
Vlora sank back down to her seat on the rock, staring at her sword. Perhaps Taniel was right. This was an enormous mistake. She didn’t mean to bring him into this, not when he had loved ones of his own, not when he had grand plans to change the world. She looked toward the Dynize column, the head of which was just a few hundred yards away. “It’s too late to run,” she whispered.
“That it is. What’s your plan?”
“You ever see someone slice a baguette in half lengthwise to make a sandwich?”
Taniel’s eyebrows rose. “Yes?”
“I’m going to slice straight down the column.”
Taniel clasped his hands behind his back, smiling down the road. “I suggest you follow me in. I’m a little sturdier than you.”
“I don’t think I can keep up.”
“Do your best.”
“Right.” Vlora stood up, sheathed her sword, and stretched her arms and shoulders. A handful of advance scouts rode on ahead of the column, coming straight toward her. They probably planned to pull her aside and question her while the column advanced past. Fine by her. She knelt down on the rocky highway, pulling four powder charges from her pocket and placing them between her palms, then raising her hands in front of her face as if in prayer. Eyes closed, she listened to the scouts ride up.
“You there,” one spoke in bad Adran, “what are you two doing here?”
“I’m enjoying the view. She’s praying,” Taniel responded in Palo.
Vlora could hear the confusion in the scout’s voice. “Where is your army?” She pressed her palms together tightly and ground them together to destroy the wrapping around the powder charges, then opened them up as if she were miming a book and buried her face between them, inhaling as hard as she could. Powder flooded her nostrils and mouth, granules like little specks of static as they touched her saliva and the inner membranes of her face. Her whole body vibrated with powder, every second seeming to take an eternity as her sorcery attempted to compensate for the barrage on her senses.
Tamas had always warned them about overdosing on powder – from either running a trance for too long a time or imbibing too much in one go. She’d flirted with the edges of her limits a few times, walking up to the precipice that would either make her powder blind or outright kill her. And now she ran up to that cliff and jumped off the edge.
Vlora’s eyes flew open. She reached out with her senses, across the mile of Dynize infantry that snaked down the road. Every six rows, she detonated a single powder charge in an infantryman’s kit. It took her less than a second, and within moments the column was overshadowed by powder smoke, the air full of the screams of the dying and the confused. She turned to Taniel and nodded.