Chapter 4
MERI
Sinan was a Bone Lord, after all.
The necromancer had known exactly who Meri was and had strolled beside her without any visible concern, chatting casually with her until the last minute. That sort of calm confidence frightened her more than any snarling threat could ever do.
She kept her hands on her blades, watching as dark ribbons of cursed enchantment swirled around the handsome Bone Lord—a shield of some sort. She wanted him to make the first move before she sank back into her speed yet again, but Sinan didn’t follow up on his verbal challenge with an attack.
Then another smell hit her, damp and sour.
She slowed the world around her, but she had been focusing on the wrong threat. Panic flooded through her as she spun around, the scent of danger directing her away from Sinan and toward her companions. One of the Kushian geldings had its throat cut, blood beginning to spray out from the wound.
A woman stood next to the horse, a short blade in her hands. She had it buried in Tharin’s chest before Meri could even take off running. Her mind stuttered in shock, unable to process what had just happened to her fellow fighter.
Unlike Sinan, Tharin’s killer made no effort to hide what she was.
Her bald head and lower arms were covered in knotted sigil scars glowing a dull red in the dying light of the day.
She wore utilitarian clothing, with loose trousers tucked into boots and a leather tunic.
No armor and only a few knives at her belt to go with her main weapon.
Meri wasn’t the only speed fighter here. The assassin from the Order of Katil was one as well.
She had fought her own kind before, both in ceremonial bouts and for real stakes, and she had fought Bone Lords before. But how could she kill someone who was both of those things?
Her body outraced her fear-muddled mind, and she was at Gallmau’s side as the assassin finished off Karabil and turned her attention to the young royal. His eyes had begun to register fear and alarm, but he was only starting to lift his shield as she approached.
Meri switched from her two slashing curved swords to one, gripping the dagger at her waist as she threw herself in the woman’s path. No, not Gallmau, not if Meri had a breath left in her body. The woman pulled up short as Meri charged, as if surprised to be facing a foe so similar to herself.
The assassin mumbled a few strange words, and Meri’s feet gave out from beneath her. The woman strode toward Gallmau with an unhurried pace in the sped-up reality she shared with Meri, her sword leveled at his neck.
Frantic, Meri kicked out with her legs. Nothing tangible bound them, only an insubstantial arc of shadow that slanted across her lower body.
She reached for her other sword and swung both blades down on either side of her.
The water magic of her swords worked again, in a way she didn’t understand.
The sorcerer who had crafted her favorite weapons had used his innate affinity to manipulate water and combined it with his knowledge of centuries of magical study to enhance the blades’ power against death witches and their magic.
What had been only an absence of light became a tangible thing that could be cut, and her bonds fell away. Black shreds of whatever cursed force the woman had used against her fluttered up into the air like drifting ash, and Meri was free.
She jumped to her feet, her focus narrowing to only one goal—saving her friend’s life. Gallmau’s fingers gripped his shield, but the agonizing slowness of his movement meant the assassin would cut his throat before he could swing it into a position to defend himself.
Meri caught up and dealt two slashing blows to the woman’s back before the assassin reached Gallmau. The blades deflected off a barrier around the woman, sending wisps of black into the air.
Switching tactics, Meri lashed out with her foot at the back of the assassin’s knee, sending her sprawling.
It was not a good time to come out of her speed, but the woman did so anyway as she rose to her feet, and Meri followed suit, mindful of how limited her stamina was after the number of times she had used her Gift today.
The world caught up with them. The dead horses fell to the ground along with the bodies of Karabil and Tharin, landing in a spreading pool of blood.
Argant whinnied in alarm and bolted, and Gallmau swung his shield into the woman’s face.
Now the prince was in the fight as well, giving Meri a glimmer of hope.
The assassin from the Order of Katil could mold shadow into armor, even change it into rope-like bindings, but both her reserves of magical power and speed were limited.
Back on the ground again after the blow from the shield, the assassin glared at them, her eyes wide with surprise and her mouth twisted into a snarl.
Those eyes—they were far more disturbing than even the scars carved into her flesh, each as white as milk, with an oval slash of red in the center, like a bloody teardrop in place of a pupil.
Gallmau and Meri adopted defensive stances, with their usual positions reversed: Meri in front, facing the woman who had killed two of her closest friends, and Gallmau behind her.
Sinan walked past the Witch Stone to stand across from the assassin from the Order of Katil, and the woman whirled to face him. He stepped into a professional sword-fighting stance, and the scent of a deadly winter hung in the air.
Meri’s instincts had been right, only she had failed to account for two necromancers, not one. That mistake had cost Tharin and Karabil their lives and might doom her and Gallmau as well.
Mother Naghwe popped out of thin air next, standing equidistant from the assassin. Was the old woman also a witch? This journey to Lutecia had turned into a nightmare.
For a long pause, none of them moved.
Meri forced herself to assess the situation strategically. Both Bone Lords couldn’t be fighting together—she and Gallmau would be long dead. Maybe they had blundered into a grudge match between the two, and Meri’s original guess that the target had been Sinan was correct.
The assassin broke the silence first. “Do you keep company with Tomb Fighters these days, Sinan? They were kind to free me from your stunt with the carriage. Strong and not very bright. Perhaps that’s where your tastes in flesh lie.”
Meri thought back to the second body under the carriage she had seen—and then hadn’t.
Perhaps the woman could shadow-walk—slip from one location into the dark and then step out somewhere else.
Meri had only seen it once—and had promptly beat a hasty retreat.
She and Gallmau were in trouble, and they needed to exploit the divisions between these witches to get out of this alive.
“Who sent you, Cliona?” Sinan kept his guard up, and his attention focused on the assassin. The two death witches were on a first name basis. “The last I heard, the Order was not interested in making war against Karakoncolos.”
Sinan must be from the necromancer city near Iotape. Cliona and the Order of Katil were not, and any enmity between two groups of necromancers could only work in her and Gallmau’s favor.
“The only law of the Order is that a contract is a contract.” Cliona gave him a wide smile, her teeth smeared with blood.
Gallmau’s hit had been hard enough do something to the woman, despite the magical protections surrounding her.
“You’re every bit as pretty as they say.
I’m going to enjoy digging those beautiful eyes of yours out of their sockets after I kill you. ”
Sinan didn’t rise to the bait, but Mother Naghwe clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Such talk from one of our own. Mark my words, Cliona, the Order will regret this day, no matter what the outcome.”
Cliona ignored the old woman and whipped her head back to Meri and Gallmau. “Take some advice from a fellow paid killer—leave. This fight is between the two of us. Your handsome new friend has more murdered ghosts following him than even I have—including many of your precious Noviodunam sorcerers.”
Something was off.
For a fearsome assassin from the Order of Katil, this woman was awfully chatty.
She had struck hard and fast, going after everyone but Sinan.
Now she was stalling, and there had to be a reason.
This type of talk before fighting didn’t serve any purpose, unless Cliona didn’t think she could take on all three of them.
“She murdered Karabil and Tharin.” Gallmau dropped his voice to an angry whisper, grief and anger choking the words out of him. “We can’t walk away from this.”
Meri raised her hand in a silent gesture for Gallmau to keep quiet. Part of her burned for vengeance, but she knew how to lock that rage away and focus on getting herself and Gallmau out of this situation. There would be time to think about payback later.
She spoke up. “The only good witch is a dead one. I don’t care if you all kill each other off. The three of you will burn in Hell, and I hope it’s sooner rather than later.”
Cliona’s mouth curved into a sneer, but her body posture relaxed a fraction. She had been worried they would jump in to help Sinan.
Good.
Meri had another plan, but it was a risky one. She focused on taking in as much detail about the two Bone Lords as she could.
Sinan had talked about the assassin having sigils carved into her flesh, and that hadn’t been a lie. Information about magic was hard to come by, and much of what Meri had been told over the years had proven to be useless superstition or outright falsehoods.