“Go see what that was,” Evers said, looking around the interior. “He may have friends trying to come to his assistance.”
“Are you certain?” Talin said, sweeping the room with his gaze. “This seems suspect.”
“It’s only Tristan in a schism. Whoever is out there is no match for a negomancer of your caliber. Dispatch them, and return to watch me make a Montague beg for his life.”
Talin nodded and smiled, sweeping the room with his gaze one more time before leaving.
Evers watched him leave, and then turned back to face pseudo-Monty.
She smiled again, creeping me out.
“It’s no use, Tristan,” she almost whispered. “No defense you have prepared will protect you from me, from my vengeance.”
Pseudo-Monty remained silent, in lotus position with his eyes closed. Evers stepped closer, narrowing her eyes.
“You dare ignore me?” she said, forming one of her silver-black orbs. “Your schism must have you more addled than I thought. Let’s begin your suffering.”
She unleashed the orb, which crashed into pseudo-Monty. The simulacrum writhed on the floor for a few seconds, before disappearing slowly. I felt the veil lift slowly as the entrance, and only exit, disappeared, replaced by a stone wall.
“A lure?” she yelled, looking around. “Where are you, Montague! Show yourself! Are you too much of a coward to face me?”
I stepped out of the corner, Grim Whisper in hand.
“I’m your huckleberry,” I said in my best Val Kilmer drawl. “Are we playing for blood?”
“Simon Strong,” she hissed. “You’re still alive?”
The arrogance of mages usually contributed to their downfall. She must’ve thought the orb she released on the skywalk had finished me. Mage egos only came in two sizes: enormous and obnoxious.
“Still,” I said, “Monty’s not here. He had other, more important matters to attend to. Left me here to deal with the trash. Guess he meant…you?”
Even in the dim light, I could see the rage flit across her face.
“He left…you…to face, me? Alone?” she asked, incredulously. “I thought he was your friend?”
I fired Grim Whisper.
She rolled to the side and unleashed three small orbs at me. Only my reflexes saved me from the attack. I slid behind a column as the small orbs punched holes in the stone. I didn’t even see her gesture to create the second set: she was fast and dangerous.
“Step out so I can end your miserable existence,” Evers said. “You should have let my orb finish you. It would have been quick. Now, you will suffer.”
I peeked around the corner and fired Grim Whisper again, ducking behind the column and rolling as I heard more orbs impact the column.
“Tell me,” I said as I reloaded Grim Whisper, “why would a mage want to get rid of all magic?”
“You would never understand,” she said. “How could you?”
“I wouldn’t understand that you’re insane?”
“To some, yes,” she answered, as I felt a surge of energy from her direction. “It’s simple calculus. Mages and magic users upset the balance. The only way to restore that balance is to—”
“Eradicate magic?”
I shifted to another column, but I didn’t want to get too far away from the null wall. The last thing I wanted was to be across the room from my last-resort play. A large, silver-black orb smashed into the wall next to me. The energy of the orb spread out several feet along the surface of the wall, which was reduced to dust in seconds.
I made a mental note to avoid her orbs.
“Not all of it…just some,” she answered. “Starting with the magic wielded by those named Montague. It’s a simple, elegant equation. Magic without the Montagues equals balance.”
She laughed then—it was a small sound, just loud enough to convince me.
She wasn’t insane, she was beyond insane.
Her madness held the certainty exhibited by genocidal maniacs who justified their actions because they felt it was necessary, for the greater good. The greater good always included themselves.
“What gives you the right?” I asked, shifting again. At this point, I was going to run out of real estate soon. “Who are you to determine who has magic?”
“I’m the only one willing to do so, to do the hard work. Left unchecked, magic does more harm than good. I am the check. I am the balance.”
“You are the judge and jury?”
“And in your case”—she unleashed another orb—“the executioner.”
I ran across several columns, but she wasn’t aiming for me. I turned in time to see the orb smash into the symbols of the null wall…turning them and the wall to rubble and dust.
That…was bad.
“Dex is going to be pissed if you keep breaking the place. He’s not going to appreciate your renovation.”
“Dex,” she said, the name like a curse, “will be dead when I’m done. Stop hiding, Strong. I recognized the symbols as soon as I saw them. You have no hope of making this room into a null zone. Surrender, and I promise you a mage’s death.”
“Pass, thanks,” I called out, and moved as orbs hit the column where I had been a second earlier. “Not a mage, never will be.”
“Then you will die like the dog that you are.”
That escalated quickly. I ran down a narrow passage at the edge of the room, as the columns were being blasted to bits behind me. She was getting angry at my expert evasiveness—also known as hiding.
How did I ever think this was a good idea? I was outclassed and outmatched in a closed room, with no way out.
TK’s words came back to me: This is one of the few times I would actually suggest speaking. It will unbalance her. You have an uncanny ability to anger everyone when you do.
Outclassed and outmatched, but not outwitted.
I needed to get her unbalanced; after all, she was still a mage.
“You sound angry,” I said. “Maybe some therapy would help…like a century or two of it.”
“You mock me?” she said, gathering more energy. I noticed the pattern. She needed to restore her energy after every few attacks. I was guessing the temple
