He turned his head away from the door and frowned at me.
“This is true,” he said, “but it will take her quite some time to chip through the wall with her little hammer. By then, you’ll already be dead.”
I sent three more shots in his direction. One for each knee and one for his opposite shoulder, but they were all absorbed as before. He flinched with each shot, burning fractions of seconds, which would bring me closer until I was within slashing range.
Suddenly, I was struck by a force I didn’t understand, and a sensation I hadn’t felt in many years. It touched a spot in my mind and my brain between my eyes and under my nose. It wasn’t painful so much as it was uncomfortable. It shook me, made my heart race, and made it almost impossible to think. I crashed to my knees as Ebon fell from my grip.
Tortengar rose and adjusted his long robe. “It is a pity we haven’t been friends,” he mused as he took a few steps toward me. “It would have been a glorious thing to observe you commanding my guards. I suspect they, like your females, would have followed you unto their death. As it is, when I’ve dispatched you and your companions, there will be heads to send rolling.”
He reached for Ebon with long fingers; I lunged for the blade but fell flat on my face.
“Oh, very good,” he said as he lifted my sword from the ground. “You have chosen to prostrate after all—a kind gesture, one I will not forget. But alas, I think my elders will have a hard time respecting me if they hear that’s all it takes to receive my grace after a violent rebellion. So. All that’s left now is for you to die. You’re a tough one, I admit. Most others were already dead by now. I’ve never experienced it myself, you see. I have this to protect me.” He held out a hand and showed me a ring—a simple, narrow band of pure, unreflective ebony. “I’m not sure how it works, but I do know it prevents me from suffering. So, does it? Does it… hurt?”
He bent at the waist and turned his ears toward me as if he were waiting for me to respond. I had plenty of things I wanted to say; I just couldn’t remember what they were.
“Pity,” he said. “I do enjoy hearing the last words of the doomed. It doesn’t look like your females are making much progress, so I’ll sit here and let them watch you suffer. As soon as I drop the field, they too will suffer the same fate. Won’t that be lovely?”
He leaned forward again as if he was waiting for me to respond and he didn’t want to miss my answer.
My mind reeled and swam through the thick layer of confusion. I was adrift in a sea of syrup and blind as to which way was up. I struggled to stand, but my head began to pound, and the syrup had turned to blood, I could taste it in my mouth. I pushed harder against the invisible force, and it pushed back harder, making my eyeballs feel like they were being stepped on. I coughed once and crashed to the ground again, exhausted. I’d only managed to lift myself a few inches.
“That’s it,” Tortengar purred. “Let it happen. Let go. There’s no reason to struggle. You’re only going to make it harder on yourself. Oh, and you should feel free to completely ignore everything I just said. I so enjoy watching this.”
I relaxed my mind and fell back to my training. One of the lessons I made sure my troops learned was that, while violence of action and speed could solve most problems, sometimes thinking your way through a problem and avoiding force would create a much more satisfactory conclusion. As I contemplated how to apply it to my current situation, I felt the steel gauntlet crushing my sinuses and my eyes begin to feel lighter. My vision, which I hadn’t realized was cloudy, began to clear. My mind became sharp.
That was it. Tortengar had used my rage against me. The technology he deployed relied on its victim to be angry to work. I’d broken the spell because I was strong enough to fall back on my training and smart enough to recognize what was happening. The thought of it almost made me laugh. Luckily, my face was turned away from the dictator.
I raised my eyes and caught sight of Reaver squatting near the forcefield. She had both hands over her mouth. Beatrix was still beating on the wall, sending sparks flying across both of them. I winked at her, and her eyes went wide.
Reaver stood, made a few rude gestures at Tortengar, and pretended to be angry. When she glanced at me, I moved my eyes up and down, simulating a nod. She turned up the heat by stomping her foot on the ground. Though I couldn't make out what she was saying, I was pretty sure it was instructions to Beatrix to do the same.
The tentacle-haired woman joined in the dramatics and began bashing the floor beneath the forcefield. To her and Reaver’s surprise, a large chunk of the floor was vaporized.
“Oh, dear,” Tortengar said.
I heard the rustle of clothing and the tip of Ebon’s blade scrape across the floor.
“It looks like I will have to speed things up a bit. I must have forgotten to have the floor near the doorway reinforced. No matter, though. This will be quite enjoyable too.”
“Mrrmrrf,” I mumbled.
“What’s that?” Tortengar said. “Did you say something?”
I heard Ebon touch the ground, felt the dictator’s foul breath against my hair, and shot one fist up toward him. I only winged him, but Ebon clattered to the flagstones, and I heard the dictator grunt and slide
