The Burner had not yet learned one of the fundamental rules of sorcery: Do not set something afire when it is flying toward you. He tried to destroy the spear in the air, failed, and was spectacularly impaled by a flaming spear.
Leddie had raced almost to the line of men, and I was rushing not far behind her. She ran straight toward the Breaker, ducked one man’s sword, and shoved another man aside. She threw a cut at the Breaker, who disintegrated her sword mid-swing.
Leddie spun and nearly fell. She caught herself and hurtled straight through the remaining men and on past, away from their swords.
When I reached the line, four of the men were either chasing Leddie or watching her run. The others had formed a half-assed defense around the Breaker. I darted in and killed one, retreated, and sidestepped to another angle of attack. They must have expected an easy victory and now were shocked at their setback. They outnumbered me five to one but hesitated to rush me.
The Breaker slipped on some bloody cobblestones, squawked, and almost fell. Two swordsmen glanced toward his squeal. Five seconds later, I had wounded them both, one fatally.
“Filth-licking bastard!” the Breaker yelled. He threw a knife and nearly hit me in the throat. I leaned at the last moment, and the knife scraped the side of my neck.
I fenced the two men in front of me for several seconds before realizing that Leddie had rejoined the fight carrying somebody’s sword. I bashed a man with my shoulder, and he cursed. From the corner of my eye, I saw Leddie spin and stab a man, who collapsed.
The man I had bashed stumbled and fell. His friend held his sword with a lazy grip, and I pointed that out by mangling his wrist. He staggered aside, crying, and I turned to the Breaker. The man backed away, gave a grim smile, and stared at my sword. I’m sure he was trying to disintegrate it. Being a divinely forged weapon, it was not destroyed. The Breaker’s eyes and mouth popped open, and a moment later, I thrust my blade into his throat.
I turned to deal with the man who had stumbled, but I found Whistler knocking him unconscious using his sword’s hilt. Whistler appeared to be a bit singed but not seriously burned. I spun back around to see the last two of our enemies go down, one killed by Leddie, and the other disabled by Halla using a sword she must have picked up during the fight. Halla scanned the square and then limped toward me. Her face didn’t show pain, but I could smell her burned flesh.
The man whose wrist I had wrecked was trotting away. I caught him in two seconds and stabbed him in the heart from behind. Then I ran back to the man Whistler had whacked on the head, and I killed him as he lay there. Whistler stared at me like I had dirtied his clean kitchen.
At least I had killed enough men to pay today’s debt to Harik.
I ran back to the trench and found Bea sitting beside it, shaking her head, just as charred as Whistler but not badly burned. I ducked into the cage, and a few of the whimpering children screamed when they saw me. The sharp smell of pee told me they were about as terrified as they could stand.
I stepped back out of the cage. “Bea, you look less like a horrible murderer than the rest of us. Try to calm those kids down.” She nodded and scrambled into the cage.
Out in the square, Leddie, Halla, and Whistler made a slow retreat toward the trench, watching the streets and buildings around us.
“Halla, come here!” I called.
She shook her head. “The fight may not be done.”
“Damn right. If we’re attacked again, I want you healthy and as ferocious as Lutigan’s shaft, not hobbling around like Lutigan’s sense of humor.”
“Here come their friends!” Whistler shouted.
I glanced over and saw a few people edging into the square. Several more walked in from another direction, and within seconds, over a dozen stood around the edge of the square staring at us.
“They’re nothing but city rats!” Leddie shouted back to us. “We don’t have to worry about them, unless their hearts burst from terror and they fall on us all at once. I bet they don’t even thank us.” She spun toward me with her mouth open. “Fingit’s weaselly face! You haven’t thanked me for saving your shitty little life! Bib, have you fallen out of love with me?”
I almost laughed but turned to Halla instead. “Sit down, darling. I don’t care to reach up over my head to work on your arm.”
“That is foolish. You are not that tiny and frail.” She sat on the ground anyway.
For the next five minutes, I healed the burns on her arm and leg. Pain grew in my leg as I worked, but thanks to Memweck’s curse, I felt nothing but numbness in my arm.
When we finished the healing, I gazed around. More than a hundred city dwellers had entered in the square, many of them gathered around the cage and the trench. Aran and two other soldiers were shouting at Leddie, their weapons drawn. Whistler stood in front of Leddie, shouting back at the citizens. Several folks had brought the children out of the cage. I saw some families weeping and laughing at the same time.
A squat soldier strolled into the square, surveyed the situation, and nodded at Halla before approaching us. A purple scar ran along the side of his face, slanted down his neck, and disappeared under the collar of his shirt. He carried his helmet in the
