Ashes of a Black Frost

The silence that greeted his question triggered something in Konowa’s memory.

“The explosion. .”

“There’s a massive crater where Ally was fighting that thing,” Yimt said. His voice deepened with the effort to recall the events. “You should have seen him, Major. Bravest lad I ever knew. He did himself proud.”

Even in his pain, Konowa could hear the hurt in Yimt’s voice. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t lit the sled on fire-”

Yimt squeezed his arm. “You did what you had to do, Major, just like Ally. He’d already made his choice long before that sled exploded. Besides, if he is dead. .”

Konowa understood. If Alwyn was dead, they would see him again.

“Could one of the other shades get this thing out of my shoulder?”

Yimt coughed before answering. “They’re gone. When we all picked ourselves up after the explosion the DD and even the rakke dead just vanished. Can’t find a trace of them anywhere.”

A cannon boomed nearby. “The battle is still going on?” Konowa asked.

“Still hundreds of regular old rakkes running around. We’re holding them off, but that’s about it.”

Something wasn’t adding up. “How are the cannons firing? We ran out of shot for them.”

“That was the Viceroy’s second idea. He took chunks of those dragon sarka har you went flying with and stuffed them down the cannon barrels. Not exactly standard procedure, but credit where it’s due, those things tear up rakkes like a hungry dog with a bone.”

It was an image Konowa could have done without. “The regiment. We need to get out of here.”

“We’re working on it,” Yimt said. He looked away for a second and then back at Konowa. His smile was alarming. “Miss Synjyn is coming. She’ll get you right as rain.”

Everything went black. When Konowa opened his eyes again, Rallie was kneeling on his left side. She held a sheaf of papers in one hand and a quill in the other. The end of a lit cigar glowed cherry red clenched between her teeth. He coughed and blew cigar smoke out of his lungs. “So what’s the verdict?”

Rallie looked up from her papers. “I’m drawing you a new reality, one that doesn’t include a sword of shadow stuck in your shoulder.”

“You can do that?” Konowa asked.

“I really don’t know, but it’s a cinch we’re all about to find out. Now, you might feel a little sting when I do this.”

Yimt placed his knee on Konowa’s right shoulder and his hands on his head, pinning him securely to the ground. Hrem appeared and grabbed hold of both his ankles.

“Sting?”

“Would you rather I tell you it’s going to hurt beyond belief?” Rallie asked.

“Not now,” Konowa said, wishing he hadn’t asked.

“Count of three?” Rallie asked.

“Sure, just give me a-argh!” he screamed, as she began to draw on the paper and the blade in his shoulder vibrated with tension.

“Hold him steady. If he moves too much I could accidentally draw part of him out of existence.”

Konowa choked back his next scream and grunted. Every time he thought the pain couldn’t get worse it drove another spike into him. Black frost flickered around the hands of Yimt and Hrem where they held him, but neither let go.

“I do believe it’s working,” Rallie said over the scratching of her quill.

Konowa wanted to shout his dissent, but he was afraid to move at all. Batting an eyelash hurt too much. “Let me know. . when you’re sure,” he gasped.

“That’s it, Major, you’re doing fine. Miss Synjyn will have you stitched up like new in no time,” Hrem said from down by his feet.

Konowa looked down his body and saw Hrem had his eyes closed.

“Anything wrong?”

“He just doesn’t like to see the insides of people is all,” Yimt said. “Me on the other hand, I find it downright fascinating. Get to see what makes a fellow tick. Not every day you can say you got to see the inner workings of an officer.”

Konowa risked a look over at his shoulder and felt the blood drain from his face. The shadow blade remained intact, but a large chunk of his shoulder was missing. He could see the pure white bone of his shoulder joint. Black tendrils of frost fire intermingled with shadow snaked all around it and deep into his flesh.

“Rallie?”

“It really is crucial you stay as still as possible,” she said, her quill moving even faster as she drew across the page. “In order to remove the blade, I first have to remove all the parts of you infected by the blade, which,” she hurriedly added, “I plan to put back when the blade is gone.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” he said between gasps. “Carry on.”

“See, no problem,” Yimt said. Konowa felt the pressure on his head shift as Yimt leaned over for a better look at the wound. “Reminds me of a beef joint, but very little marbling. Not very tender I’m afraid, but probably good for stew if you let it simmer for a day.”

“You wouldn’t like me,” Konowa said, a tiny smile reaching his lips. “We elves are gamey.”

“I’ve heard that,” Yimt said, as if this was an entirely normal and acceptable topic of conversation. “Now take a big slab of human meat like Private Vulhber there. You’ve got to figure there’s a good ten pounds of top sirloin running along that spine of his. Lot of prime cuts in a lad that size.”

“Have you ever tried orc?” Konowa asked, flinching as another wave of pain spread out from the wound.

“Now that’s gamey,” Yimt said. “Just about broke a tooth on some orc jerky one time. Nasty stuff. You could soak it for a week and it’d still be as tough as boot leather. But here’s something most people don’t know. Orcs have the most tender-” whatever Yimt was going to say was cut off by Hrem’s shouting.

“Would you two please stop! I’m going to be sick.”

Konowa looked down at him and sure enough, the big soldier looked wan and about ready to pass out.

“Easy, Hrem, we’re just chitchatting here. Keeping the major preoccupied is all. Pick a different subject if you like. Come to think of it, all this talk about food has built up an appetite. I’ve been thinking about trying out a new recipe-”

“Or silence,” Hrem said, his breaths coming in short bursts. “Silence might work.”

“Not to worry gentlemen, the deed is done,” Rallie said.

Konowa looked over as she flourished her quill and tucked it away up a sleeve. He had the oddest thought that her arm must be covered in ink stains, but then he was looking at his shoulder.

The blade was gone and his shoulder was whole again, but with a nasty-looking black scar running across it. The cascading waves of pain were gone, too. Every muscle in his body relaxed and he felt his back touch the ground again. It was as if a thousand ropes under tension had been cut and he sank into a puddle of relief.

The frost fire had already disappeared. He tentatively moved the fingers of his left hand.

“They work. Hurts like hell, but they work.”

Rallie leaned back and took the cigar from her mouth, blowing out a thick stream of smoke. “I’m tempted to remind you of the aphorism about quills being mightier than the sword, but you can read all about it when I write my next dispatch.”

“Help me up,” Konowa said, struggling to lift his shoulders from the ground. They wouldn’t budge. “Sergeant, you can stop holding me down, Rallie’s finished.”

Yimt appeared at his side, his hands held out for Konowa to see. “Not me, Major.”

Rallie leaned over and looked closely in his eyes. He had to turn his head to avoid being burnt by the end of her cigar. She leaned back and sighed. “I had hoped to avoid this, but it could have been worse.”

“What?” Konowa asked.

“I did my best to redraw everything back as it was, connecting all the little fibers and bits to where they were before. Still, that kind of work is hard on a body. I’ve never actually done anything like this before, well, I don’t think I have. .”

Konowa shared a look with Yimt and decided to ignore the last part. “Rallie, I can’t be flat on my back while the regiment fights. They need me.” And I need them.

“A few hours, a few days, it’s hard to say. But you will recover, of that I’m sure,” she said, slapping the sheaf of papers in her hand.