8. Karnac
8
KARNAC
T he snow felt endless, an interesting effect that I’d love to understand. Maybe some human had an answer — if I ever saw one again, I’d ask. Right now, it seemed like dawn might as well be a year away.
I’d lost the trail of whoever I’d been following somewhere after the snowstorm properly started, worse luck, and now I had no idea where they sheltered. Nor, unfortunately, where I’d left the humans. By now they’d have found out I’d vanished, and I wondered how they’d take my foolishness. My heart broke at the thought of Molly, peering through the storm from inside the station and trying to find me.
I hoped I hadn’t hurt her too much, and I hoped that I’d be able to make it back to her.
That was when I heard the shriek. No Prytheen made that noise, no human either. Loud and high-pitched, it cut through the muffling snow like a laser through butter. For a moment I thought it was a native animal, but then I recognized something about it. I’d heard this noise before, in more pleasant conditions.
Glitch! I turned into the storm, toward the sound of Molly’s companion, and ran. Making headway against the wind and snow wasn’t easy, but if my khara’s companion was in danger, then so was she. That gave me fresh strength, and I raced ahead. Strange lights flickered through the snow, getting stronger as I approached. Framed in the light, I spotted a silhouette.
Two silhouettes. One my size, a Prytheen or a giant of a human. One smaller, bundled up but instantly recognizable despite the shapeless parka that hid her face and figure. Molly. Rage flooded through me as I saw more details — he had his hand on her throat, and she kicked at him desperately. Her hands pulled at his wrist, but that was a futile effort.
When his free hand reached for the fastening of her parka, I put my head down and charged. The storm covered much of my approach, but at the last moment the other Prytheen must have heard me coming. He turned his head in my direction, eyes going wide, and flung Molly at me.
Instinct told me to dodge, get past the attack, strike before my opponent recovered. I fought that instinct, catching Molly instead and cushioning her fall. The impact knocked the breath from her, but behind her goggles her eyes went wide.
“Karnac?” she gasped. I wished I had the time to answer her, reassure her, but our foe was almost on us. I dropped Molly — she hit the snow with an oof, I winced and promised myself I’d apologize later — drew my sword and leaped to meet him.
His blade sliced through the snow, slamming into my parry with enough force to knock me aside. Strong, but no finesse. With a twist of my wrist, I dropped my blade under his and cut back up, aiming for his arm.
He should have backed off, dodging my blow and giving us both a chance to adjust. Instead, he did the most foolish thing I’d ever seen. As soon as my blade left his, he lunged.
Stupid, reckless, and damned near enough to kill me. I twisted out of the way at the last moment, my attack ruined as I jumped sideways. A flash of teeth on my enemy’s face and he was after me, sword swinging high, low, high again. Driven backward, I parried each blow, studying my opponent as I went.
Fast. Skilled. Confident, perhaps overconfident — we’d know which when the duel ended. We’d both studied the sword, though from different masters. His style was based on speed and fury, mine more measured and balanced.
“You’re good,” I said, panting breaths freezing in the air. “What is your name? I am Karnac of Clan Layol, and that was my khara you struck.”
That flashing grin again, hungry and menacing. “Ah, Layol, the ones who brought us our weapons on the front line. I am Torgek of Vindar, and if you surrender now, we may allow you to join us.”
Of Vindar. I drew a sharp breath: omitting the ‘clan’ from that sentence meant that he was in Alpha-Captain Vindar’s pack, serving the man directly. That implied Vindar was here, on Crashland, but hadn’t chosen to contact the Joint Colony, and that implied hostile intentions. I had to return to the Colony and warn Auric.
His followers specialized in ground assaults, and I was used to their scorn. Stupid, adolescent scorn, since without us to supply them, their weapons and ships would have run dry quickly. And every Prytheen, regardless of clan, is a warrior.
To prove that, instead of parrying the next attack, I beat it aside, striking with all my might. A dangerous tactic; if he’d seen it coming I’d have left myself open, but he’d become complacent.
My blade struck his and knocked it away, the shock jarring me and weakening his grip. Seizing the opportunity, I sliced sideways, aiming for his neck.
Torgek was faster than I’d expected, leaping back. Instead of a fatal blow to the jugular, I merely grazed his chin. Still, first blood. Perhaps it would suffice.
“Surrender,” I offered. “We will treat you well.”
“You think this wound will take me down? You’re too used to fighting other box-pushers, Karnac. Come on, let’s fight, damn you.”
With that, he sprung forward, thrusting for my heart with all his speed. So fast! If I hadn’t been expecting it, he’d have run me through. But I’d not expected him to take my offer, and his eyes had given away his target. I stepped aside, letting his sword pass me. His foot came down on the snow and slipped, putting him off balance before he recovered from the attack.
I launched an overarm cut at his head.
Torgek’s eyes went wide as he saw my move unfold. He might be able to pull his blade around into a cut at my side, but even if he managed, we’d trade hits. His a weak cut, mine a deathblow.
His trained instincts kicked in, twisting his arm and pulling it up to block me. Our forearms crashed together, pain shot through me, and he staggered back off balance. I stepped up close to slam my left fist into his ribs. Something cracked, all the air left his lungs explosively, and my sword opened his neck.
Blood sprayed across the white snow, quickly vanishing under the blizzard. I paid neither the blood nor Torgek’s corpse any mind. More urgent business needed my attention.
“Molly,” I shouted, peering into the snow and trying to place her. “Glitch?”
That was more effective. The harsh, high-pitched yowl of the hologram cat pulled me in his direction, toward the strange scattering light I’d seen before. Of course. Forgetting that he was made of light and forcefields was all too easy.
I found him futilely pawing at a mound of snow. His forcefield generator was too weak to do more than dislodge a few flakes at a time.
“There you are, Glitch,” I said, waving him back. “Best of cats, if she lives, I will be your friend for life.”
The snow came away easily for me, revealing an unconscious Molly. Examining her by the light of her hologram, I swore. Face even paler than usual, lips turning blue, the only clear sign of life a tiny pulse of steam with each imperceptible breath. She needed medical attention, and if that wasn’t available, shelter and warmth.
I had neither.
Shit.
Perhaps I could make a shelter out of snow? I knew that was a thing that could be done, but I didn’t know how. I shook my head, chest tightening. If the snow would let up enough for me to get my bearings, the station was right there. I’d get her back to her own kind, to warmth and light. But the storm insisted on continuing.
Pick a direction and get going, I told myself fiercely. Better than standing here until we both died. I told myself that one direction looked like it was uphill and walked that way, cradling Molly in my arms. She felt light as a feather and cold as a comet’s heart.
Something snagged my ankle, nearly tripping me. I looked down at Glitch, or rather Glitchs — he’d split into three, one of them trying to savage my ankle through the heavy leather boot. I’d have laughed, except the other two looked at me with wide, desperate eyes.
“What is it?” I said, crouching to see them better. One meowed, another hissed, and the third continued worrying my boot.
I frowned. “Molly is in danger here, we must go. Come on.”
The trio of Glitch shattered like mirrors, reforming into a singular cat. His static-filled eyes looked at me, wide and sorrowful. Then he turned and marched off into the snow.
I frowned. Well, whatever was up, he couldn’t get far from Molly and the holo-projector in her vambrace. Straightening up, I turned back the way I’d been walking before and took a step.
Again, something snagged my ankle. Glitch. I pursed my lips, counting to three before speaking. “What? Glitch, Molly might die if I don’t find somewhere safe for her.”
The hologram hissed at me, turned, and ran into the storm. I shivered, shook my head, and wondered — did he want me to follow him?
“One way’s as good as another,” I told myself, setting out after the cat. “At least moving will keep me warm.”