“Me,” I answered as I stepped forward. “I was attacked and defended myself. The one you call Yaltu is no longer here.”
Skald slowly turned his head toward me and squinted through his goggles as if he was trying to examine an annoying gnat rather than a human twice as tall as himself. The weasel inspected me from the tips of my leather shoes now hardening due to being soaked in bug guts and stopped when he noticed my sword.
“That!” he shrieked. “Where did you get that? Bring it here! Give it to me!”
“The sword is mine,” I said.
“You killed my soldiers. For reparations, I demand the sword. Bring it to me now!” Skald was drooling as he stared at Ebon, and he seemed to grow more maniacal by the moment.
If he wanted a fight, I was more than willing to oblige. Then I’d get to test just how powerful I was since the Lakunae had given me the powers of the Void.
I drew Ebon from my sheath and inspected the blade for a moment as if I was considering the creature’s request. The shining black metal held no trace of the many enemies it had slewn. There were no gouges, chips, or scratches anywhere. There were no blemishes or flaws.
There was also no way I’d ever surrender it to another while I could still draw breath.
“You are Skald, aren’t you?” I asked.
“You know who I am, yet you dare refuse my request? I am the High Lord of Marvale. Madomar is merely one town under my dominion. And you are trespassing!”
“And these… bugs... they were your soldiers?” I used Ebon to gesture at the piles of corpses.
The creature made a noise of dismissal and waved an uncaring hand at the surrounding chaos. “They do not matter. They breed like teloc and are stupid.” He paused and studied me for a moment. “You are the brute who killed my Enforcers. One of them transmitted your description before you murdered him.”
“Like the bugs I killed today, your Enforcers attacked me first.”
“I need no more consideration. I have seen the evidence. I have made my decision. I find you guilty! Guilty! Bring me the sword!”
“You want Ebon?” I asked.
“Yes!” Skald hissed.
I pretended to consider the weasel’s request. He seemed like the type who was used to getting his way, so delaying my answer was sure to anger him.
I looked him in the eye. “Come and take it, furball.”
For a moment nothing happened. It was as if the universe was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
“Very well,” Skald growled. “I shall take whatever is left from your body.” A moment later, he vanished into his tank, slammed the lid, and brought the tank’s turret around toward me.
The vehicle’s cannon settled on the center of my chest. The weapon was only capable of delivering a bolt a few inches wide. If I timed it correctly, I knew I could block the beam with Ebon.
Plasma had almost no effect on the blade, only warming it a few degrees, as the Enforcer’s shield had proven. My best guess said particle weapons would have even less of an effect. I raised the sword and waited. I didn’t have to wait long.
A loud crack broke the silence and announced the discharge of the weapon. The bolt was barely visible no more than an orange glow against the background. Surprisingly, the more I focused, the slower it seemed to travel. I wasn’t slowing down time, but it just felt that way because my reaction time had gotten so much faster. I still wasn’t used to whatever the Lakunae had done to me, but I liked it.
I made one tiny adjustment to my blade’s angle across my chest. If Ebon somehow reflected the energy rather than absorbing it, I wanted to send it back at the cannon itself. If I got lucky, I might destroy the entire turret.
When the bolt hit my sword, nothing happened. There was no recoil from the impact. There was no detectable heat. It was as if the blade was thirsty for energy, like a vampire for blood. I decided to feed it whatever it wanted, starting with the hovertank.
“Ha!” Skrew blurted out into the silent street from his hiding place. “What does the weasel shoot? Noodles? Looks like noodles to Skrew! What is next, sauce? Skrew likes sauce. Don’t make too spicy. Skrew’s tongue so delicate. Skrew send back and make Skald cook again, empty-head. Now Jacob going to kill Skald good!”
Skrew scampered out of his covered stall and followed up his insults and taunts with a rude gesture involving several hip-thrusts and a waggle of a foot. I wasn’t sure what it meant, exactly, but Skald’s reaction made it clear how bad it was.
I threw myself in front of the vrak and caught the weasel’s answer against my blade, the plasma dissipating on Ebon’s black metal. Skrew just stood there as if he was having trouble accepting the fact that someone had just tried to shoot him with a weapon designed to destroy other tanks.
Skrew wilted under my glare and dived for cover as I leaped toward the hovertank. The vehicle’s cannon tracked me, but I was already out of the way before the bolt hit the dirt, temporarily turning the impact into a small pool of lava. I continued to leap, roll, and dodge as I closed the distance, until I heard the tank’s barrel slam against its housing. It couldn't depress any further; I was too close to shoot.
One more forward roll brought me within arm’s reach of the huge vehicle. I thrust Ebon into its hull, just under the hatch Skald had stuck his ugly head from and buried my sword to the hilt. I gave the blade a twist and yanked it free.
Heat punched
