The Choice of Magic - Michael G. Manning Page 0,103

of blows.

It seemed to go on forever, and Will’s stomach turned as their efforts to defend themselves grew weaker. He could imagine the pain they felt when his staff struck against their arms and legs. He winced as he heard the sharp snap of a bone breaking.

But he couldn’t stop. As sick as it made him, his fear was greater. He had to make sure they couldn’t follow him or report back to their camp. One of the men was no longer moving, and the other began to beg. “I surrender. Please stop. Don’t kill me, mister!”

Will hit him again, and the man cried out in pain.

“We didn’t do nothing to you! Have mercy!” The soldier’s words were slurred due to the damage to his mouth and jaw.

Will hit him again, and the man rolled onto his belly, trying to crawl away. Why won’t he just pass out? In the stories told by the bards, the villains always collapsed after a single blow, but it was quite obvious to Will that he wasn’t in some hero’s saga. Clenching his jaw, he moved to one side and aimed for the space just below the man’s helmet, where the soldier’s neck met the base of the skull. There was padding there as well, so he brought the staff down as hard as he could manage, closing his eyes at the last second.

The man stopped moving, and when Will knelt and felt for a pulse, he realized the soldier was dead. He nearly threw up then, but though his stomach heaved once, there was nothing in it. He was racked by guilt, something he hadn’t felt after rescuing Sammy in Barrowden. That fight had been quicker, and he’d done it in the heat of the moment. The shock of losing his cousin and aunt had overshadowed the remorse he might have felt at killing them.

But this—this was murder, cold and cruel. He couldn’t even hate them for what had happened in Barrowden, for from what they had said they probably hadn’t participated directly. It had sickened them too.

After several moments, Will got his emotions under control, or at least managed to bury them deeply enough that he could function. When he checked the other soldier, he was relieved to find the man was still breathing. A short inspection showed him that the man’s arm and jaw were broken, but aside from that he didn’t seem to have any serious injuries.

Returning to the dead man, he began stripping the body, which took nearly half an hour, during which time he worried constantly that more soldiers would come. He wrapped the surviving soldier in his dead friend’s cloak, thinking it might keep him warm enough to survive until he woke. Then he put on the dead man’s gambeson and steel cap, which made him feel a lot warmer.

It did nothing for the cold, dead place in his heart, though.

The sky was beginning to brighten as he strapped on the dead man’s sword belt. Will wrapped Tailtiu in his cloak and lifted her in his arms, then began retracing his path down the mountain. It was obvious to him now that he couldn’t get through the pass, certainly not while carrying a body.

He jerked with surprise when he heard Tailtiu mumble against his chest. “Next time, once they’re helpless, take one of their swords to finish them off. It’s a lot quicker than beating them to death.”

Chapter 33

Will walked downhill all morning, and if there was any pursuit, he saw no sign of it. He felt a profound sense of relief when he finally got back into the Glenwood. Tailtiu still hadn’t moved, but she had remained awake. “Put me down,” she said once they had entered the denser undergrowth.

He laid her carefully on the ground. “Are you starting to recover?”

She shook her head.

“I thought you were immortal?”

“In the fae realm,” she whispered without opening her eyes. “Here the connection is too weak. You shredded my insides and exhausted my power. If I don’t go back, I’ll die.”

Something occurred to him then. “Would it help if I gave you some of my turyn? Like before—?”

“I’m too weak. It would only make me sicker,” she answered.

The only entrances to the fae realm that Will knew about were in the vicinity of his grandfather’s house. It would take the rest of the day to reach either of those—longer since he had to avoid the road. “It will take a while to get you back,” he told her. “How