Ice
Math let himself believe they might actually escape.
It didn’t last long.
The rooftop was too exposed. The magic Kai had used to shift gravity still clung to the walls and stone behind them—an open trail of breadcrumbs easily followed by their pursuers. And while Kai couldn’t run as fast as Math, Math couldn’t run as fast as Alik Nuhzar.
He heard the knight’s footsteps before he saw him.
Down below, the train they’d glimpsed earlier let out a shrill burst of steam. It had cleared the tracks and begun to roll—in the wrong direction, away from Bashan, back west. Math didn’t care. Any train would do.
“Can you make it to that train roof?” Math called.
“I’ll manage. Can you?”
He offered a crooked smile. “Someone has to stall Nuhzar. I’ll catch up.”
They both knew that was a lie.
“I’ll be quite cross with you if you don’t.” Kai pushed the sleeve up around her wrist to reveal the largest gold bracelet she wore. She glanced over at the train slowly pulling away from the station and slid a finger across the bracelet’s surface, skimming over the etched symbols.
She vanished.
A heartbeat later, she reappeared, unsteady but upright, on top of the slowly moving train.
Math exhaled, impressed despite himself. So that’s how she’d escaped the maze. He wondered how often she could do that, but then immediately answered himself: not often, or she’d have used it when running from Huraiik.
“Kaven!” Captain Nuhzar landed on the station roof, armor ringing. “Surrender!”
Math turned, plastering a false smile on his face. “Alik! What a surprise. What are you doing here? Did you already strangle every kitten in Parasir County?”
The man ignored the jab, his breath heavy but his posture unshaken. “Stop running. You’re just putting me in a bad mood.”
“I can’t take credit for that, Alik. You’re always in a bad mood.” It was a good thing that Kai had been able to get away on her own, because at the moment, Math’s greatest magical power was angering the man chasing them.
Nuhzar advanced. “Surrender.”
Math’s smile vanished. “How are the kids?”
The question caught Nuhzar off guard. His shoulders stiffened. “They’re fine.”
“They’re not,” Math snapped. “They just lost Master Wadera. We just lost Master Wadera. There’s no world where any of us are fine.”
Gods, he might hate the man, but they’d grown up as novitiates together; Alik was only a few years older and Ziik Wadera had raised them both. The old man’s loss was a foul emptiness that threatened to trip Math anytime he lowered his guard.
The knight’s jaw clenched. For a breath, Math felt it—that cracking surface. Grief, quickly smothered. It was the smallest slip of the mask. After, Nuhzar’s face was once more carved from the ice he resonated with.
“People die,” Nuhzar said flatly. “Focus on your own situation.” Ice bloomed in Nuhzar’s hands as he summoned a halberd made of ice, luminous and deadly, glowing silver in the moonlight. “Again, surrender.”
Math shifted his footing. Ice had already begun to form beneath his boots.
“What’s my incentive to surrender, exactly? Commander Talu’s already signed my death warrant.”
Nuhzar hesitated. “He did what?”
“I may not have killed Captain Qin—and please note that I didn’t—but I read the letters he carried. One of them ordered my execution—courtesy of Commander Talu.”
He could only assume that Talu had sent Math away for it in the interest of not upsetting the Isofal Cenobium members Math had grown up with. Math wasn’t sure how many of those people were even still alive … but Talu hadn’t even told Nuhzar.
“That’s … He shouldn’t have done that.”
“Huh. I guess you and I can agree on something. I’ll have to run an announcement in the paper.”
“I am your only chance of surviving. I’m not your enemy.”
Math stopped long enough to raise an eyebrow and give the knight an incredulous look. “Try again, Alik. You’ve been my self-appointed enemy since I was five.”
Captain Nuhzar took another step. “What happened at the ambush? You’re the only witness.”
“You’re not just assuming that I’m a Kaliri traitor? Are you feeling well?”
Tri-Mother, he wished he could trust Nuhzar. Unfortunately, it was entirely possible that Nuhzar wasn’t accusing him of being a traitor because Nuhzar himself held that role.
Math repositioned himself when his foot began to slide again.
Nuhzar scowled in irritation. “We found black-powder weapons and signs of necromancy. Was it the grim witch?”
“No, we were attacked by the Kaliri. Using grim magic, yes, but it wasn’t her. They had orders to kill me, and a description of all the escorting knights, written in Kaliri—on Isofal paper.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Do you still have the letters?”
“Of course I do. And as soon as I get to Bashan, I’ll be turning them over directly to the head of the Order.” Math scowled. “Maybe the regent, if I can figure out a way to see her.”
“If you’d wanted to do that, you’ve already missed your chance.”
Math blinked at Alik once, then glanced back toward the hotel they’d run from. He remembered the woman he’d seen: an Idallik Knight dressed like a noblewoman, with imperial soldiers obeying her every word.
“Gravespit. That was Regent Shovan?”
“That was the regent. Just turn yourself in, Kaven. We’ll figure this out.”
“I’m going to turn myself in—just not to you.” Math glanced around, hoping to spot some advantage.
“You don’t have a choice,” Alik reminded him. “You have nowhere to run. You don’t even have a weapon.”
“I’ll always have my razor wit.” Math glanced around, all the while keeping his opponent in his field of vision.
There were cranes at the far end of the station, used for loading cargo onto train carriage beds.
If he could reach them, he might be able to use the ropes to swing across to Kai’s train.
“Damn it, Alik. You may not like me, but you can’t really believe I would betray the Order, can you? I’m innocent.”
“I believe what I saw,” Nuhzar said, taking another step forward. The ice wasn’t impeding his footing any. “Every person exposed to those spores betrayed us—except you. No, instead, you woke a grim lord so she could destroy our attackers.”
“Do I need to explain what ‘betray’ means to you? Because saving Isofal is the opposite of that.” He paused. “You’re admitting she saved us? Really, who are you?”
“She’s still a grim witch who has you under a spell.” Alik twirled the halberd in his hand so it trailed ice crystals in the air.
Ah. Technically true. “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said she doesn’t?”
Nuhzar’s expression didn’t change. “No.”
That was the problem, wasn’t it? An Idallik Knight lived or died by their convictions, their beliefs.
Math’s pulse raced, his arms held out for balance as he tried to keep from slipping on the icy roof. His breath plumed in white puffs in front of him from the sudden drop in temperature. He heard shouting in the distance: more knights, reinforcements on the way.
He would’ve been tempted to just let himself fall, except that’s what Nuhzar wanted, the reason he’d iced over the roof. The moment he fell, Nuhzar would pounce.
The cobblestones below him looked hard. None of the local landscaping was of the soft and welcoming variety. Then a flash of green from a side street caught his eye, so startling that he nearly gave it a disastrous second look.
Huraiik?
No. It couldn’t have been.
Nuhzar lunged.
Math dodged, while the halberd scraped past, leaving a trail of ice. “Careful there. You can’t interrogate a corpse.”
Nuhzar sneered. “True, I’d need Kaiataris, wouldn’t I?”
Math backpedaled. “First of all, it’s pronounced KAI-et-eris. Second: Did you just try to make a joke?”
The knight attacked again. This time, the blow connected, a stinging strike to Math’s legs. He buckled and fell, sliding down the icy rooftop.
Panicked, Math circled the first-circle Land spell, Balance, and rolled back to his feet.
It was only after he’d stood again that Math realized he’d cast it entirely without words or hand gestures. Just will and purpose.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Math said, mostly because he knew Nuhzar hated it when he kept talking during a fight. He used to complain about it after every sparring match.
Math grinned. Knowledge was still power.
Maybe he no longer had the blind faith of the average Idallik Knight, but he knew he didn’t need the hand motions, the sacred words, even the time to focus. He knew all his limitations were in his mind.
Even if that didn’t equal instantly unlocking all the secrets of magic, Kai’s advice still burned inside him with a fiery joy.
Math ran, circling spells with every stride.
He didn’t limit himself to three—an act that should have been impossible if the Order’s teachings held true.
Magic surged through him in a dizzying, intoxicating rush, sharp as lightning in his veins.
He moved faster, his footing sure despite the ice, casting gusts of wind behind him to slow Nuhzar’s pursuit.
Also, he set the roof on fire.
Math wasn’t exactly proud of that, but there was a water tower nearby, and this close to Bashan, the city was sure to have a competent fire brigade. Besides, it would keep the other knights busy.
Then he saw that he’d misjudged the distance between the edge of the roof and the crane. He’d never make that jump, not even using magic, but if he stopped running—
It didn’t matter anyway. The train had pulled too far from the station. He couldn’t make the jump.
Someone was shouting. A woman’s voice.
He speed-circled a spell to heighten his senses and heard:
“The hole! Jump into the hole!” Kai was screaming from the top of the nearby train, waving her arms wildly.
What hole?
He looked down at the boardwalk below. A rough square was missing from the wooden planks. The interior resembled a pool of water reflecting the stars.
“Jump!” Kai screamed.
Nuhzar was right on his heels, too close.
Math jumped, aiming for that dark square, praying he didn’t break his legs when he hit the ground.
But he didn’t hit the ground at all: he fell through the square.
Down became up, then down again. The world twisted. For one awful second, he was nowhere, then he slammed onto the top of the train. It was more embarrassing than painful. In front of him was the open portal he’d fallen through, partly reflecting the soffit of the train station roof.
Kai hauled him to the side while she used her skirt to smudge part of the chalk square drawn on the roof.
The portal vanished.
The roof returned to being a normal roof again, if a normal roof on a vehicle moving at considerable speed. The wind streaming past made his eyes water.
“Math, what has happened? You look feverish—”
He stared at his shaking hands. His skin felt reddened, as though he’d been in the sun too long. Sparks hovered just beneath his skin, waiting to catch fire. He felt manic, hyper, a clock wound too fast. Something more intense than feverish. Burning up.
“I don’t feel great,” Math admitted, voice unsteady.
“Drop your spells,” Kai ordered. “Now.”
He tried.
The world exploded into a thousand points of burning, pure light.