I push at his chest with my uninjured forearm, twisting out from under him. “Thank me later. We need cover.”
“Sphuraw!”he yells as I call to my red magic. A shield encases us like a bubble, and a ring of fire lashes outside of that. The two of us stand to face four remaining Vencrin. Kalyan’s back presses against mine, and its warmth and bulk allow me to breathe evenly for the first time in what feels like hours. I can almost ignore the pounding of purple arrows smashing against the shield, or the rage of voices shouting obscenities at us. They mostly scream permutations ofbloody, red,andbitch,switching up the words based on variation and good old-fashioned passion. Overall, it seems that I can be described as a menstrual cycle.
I clutch my throbbing arm.
“Are you about to burnout?” Kalyan whispers.
“No, it’s just my arm.”
Kalyan’s eyes bulge as he assesses the red wetness dripping from my sleeve. “I can’t take them all without you.”
“You won’t have to. Let me pass through the shield on three. I’ll take those two.” I nudge my foot toward the black forte Vencrin whose magic seared my arm, and a blue forte. “You take purple arrow and the wet one.”
“On three, then.”
My arm throbs. “One…” My back aches. “Two…” I’m nauseated. “Three!” I rush at the shield, drowning out the pain. On my side, the fire dies at my command and the shield evaporates. On the other, Kalyan’s white magic explodes. It’s enough. It has to be. I lash the rest of the fire like a whip and slash downward, between my two opponents.
I move in all directions, my left hand casting spells, my right protesting against the pain, but still holding a shield. Colors fly around me like the Festival of Color. Only instead of splattering the sky, the shooting lights spin vertically and with terrifying death words behind them.
One spell hits a crate and it explodes. Orbs of firelight tumble out, hundreds of them rolling across the makeshift battlefield. I stare after a few dancing past me, dazed for a second. It’s true, then. They’re taking firelight! With my newfound rage, one of my spells breaks through the wounded blue Vencrin’s shield and he drops.
The black forte wizard runs toward me, an aggressive move in a spell-shooting fight. I whip my line of fire at him and he barrels over it.Blood.
I need time to think, to chant. But I don’t have time. He’s too fast. He yanks a steel dagger from his belt and jerks forward. I lean back as a flash of silver cuts toward my chest. Reflexively I reach for my own belt, but I don’t have a blade on me, only Hubris. With a flip I release my skyglider from my belt and hold it up in defense. With another swipe the dagger buries itself in Hubris, and with one more quick motion the Vencrin whacks Hubris’s handle off.
“Vitahtrae!”I shout, and Hubris obeys. Its remaining handle extends without the kitelike tail so I can whirl Hubris like a staff, as I used to do as a child. Smack, cut, twist, duck, the two of us dance as the wizard nicks and slashes Hubris apart, piece by piece. Splinters slice my hands as wicker frays and Hubris is whittled away.
I lunge, feint left, and then smash Hubris’s broken end into his right shoulder.“Zalaka Drumahtrae,”I chant, and shards of my broken skyglider explode into black forte’s arm. He hollers and stumbles to his knees with the pain, curling his arm into himself. I take advantage of the distraction and elbow him in the face, his teeth knocking against my elbow. Finally, he falls back.
And then it’s done. My line of fire sizzles as it eats up the deck. A thump echoes as the pommel of Kalyan’s sword hits the last wizard’s chest. I’m relieved until Kalyan raises his pommel for a blow to the head.
“Wait!” I yell.
Kalyan stills as he holds on to the collar of the drooping Vencrin. I tumble through the firelight, bodies, and debris.
“Why…why do you have firelight?” I demand of the Vencrin.
He stares at me, dazed. One eye is swollen and blood gushes above his eyebrow. But the other eye appears haunted, or maybe even terrified.
“I’m not telling the Red Bitch anything.”
I really need a more creative name. I mean, I get the red mask brings the color into descriptive play and the snug black cage-casting top shows I possess boobs, but still, to quote Sims, it’s weak. Kalyan jostles the wizard. Clearly, he’s not a fan of my street name either.
I lean in closer, steady my breath, and cast fire to my hands like I did when interrogating Basu. “Tell me what you are doing with the firelight.”
He flinches from the fire like they all do, as if the temperature and height of the flames aren’t under my control. “It’s you who will burn in the end, witch.”
“Are you delivering it to Moolek?” I yell.
His one good eye widens, then narrows.“Kalaleah,”he spits like a curse.
“No!” The fire vanishes and I rush to cover his mouth, but smoke swarms over his head and he goes limp, already unconscious.
“Blood.” I slump down the side of the ship and start numbing the pain in my arm. Kalyan drops the dead weight and scans the destroyed ship. As I drag my hand over the sweat soaking my hairline, he sits down beside me and places his elbows on his knees.
“Next time”—he breathes heavily—“we need a better plan.”
I watch the ship burn into the night, the smoke condensing in angry plumes. Then Jaya and I disperse the soot and extinguish the flames, because the last thing we need is an audience. Though the Vencrin’s mighty illusion helps with concealing everything.
