Street Magic - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,85

"Did you like it? Did you have fun choking them and burying them as fertilizer?"

The mute bent over, trying to massage his foot. He didn't even look at Briar.

The second assailant didn't try to be quiet. Behind him Briar heard the hiss of a drawn sword. With his power he tapped the bundle he'd left between the mute's feet, and faced the swordsman. The man leveled his weapon. Sharp metal gleamed in the scant light cast out here by indoor lamps. Another sullen rumble came from inside the house, drawing closer to them. Neither the man nor Briar risked a look to see what caused it.

Instead the swordsman laughed when he saw Briar's knives. "I have the advantage of you, boy," he told Briar smoothly. "I have reach and expertise."

The mute shrieked, his tongueless mouth freeing a sound more animal than human. He screamed a second time; the third cry broke off in the middle. After that the only sounds were the rattle of branches growing rapidly, tearing flesh, and a slow, wet drip. The swordsman could see it over Briar's shoulder. His eyes widened in horror.

Briar didn't turn. He and Rosethorn had once defended Winding Circle from pirates, using mixed seeds of thorny plants; the girls had given him use of their magic to make the plants extra lethal. A similar mix of seeds had been in the packet he'd tossed at the mute. Now Briar told the swordsman in a chatty tone, "Four years ago it took me and my three friends to work this bit." He had to raise his voice to be heard over the crunch of falling stone in the house. "The trick is to make this stuff grow so fast it just goes clean through anybody on top of it." He grinned, showing teeth. "I've learned a lot since then. I can do it by myself."

The copper tang of fresh blood drifted on the desert wind. The swordsman stood motionless, eyes bulging at the nightmare behind Briar. The boy sheathed one of his knives. His foe didn't look as if he wanted to attack anymore.

"I can do it to you," Briar said quietly. "In fact, maybe I should." He reached into his kit. The swordsman fled, stumbling and thrashing his way through the rioting garden plants. He ran not for the house, but for a gap the vines had torn in the back wall.

Now Briar made himself look at the mute. He had killed the man, after all; he owed it to him to face his work. There was little of the mute to see. The thorns and vines had covered him completely, gouging him in a thousand places and sprouting through his flesh, holding him in a massive, woody, bloodstained sheath. Briar nodded to his creation, his mouth trembling.

It was him or me, he thought, turning away. I knew he could kill, and he was going for me.

Evvy, he told himself. She's all that matters.

Now he spared a look for the side of the house closest to him. The wall trembled. There seemed to be holes in the roof. Grit rose above them in clouds, given a sulphur-yellow glow by lamps casting light through the gaps.

The wall closest to Briar blew outward, spraying stone fragments in the hip-high grass. A small, dark figure appeared in the opening left by the collapse, petting the stone on either side of the gap like one would pat a trusty dog.

"Evvy?" Briar called softly.

The figure froze, peering at him. Briar stepped into the light that streamed through the hole in the house.

"Pahan Briar!" Evvy croaked. She threw herself across the ground between them and hugged Briar tight, burying her face against his chest. He hugged her back, feeling her thin shoulders quiver under his hands. Wetness that he was fairly sure wasn't sweat dampened his shirt under her face.

"I guess you've learned a way to feel your magic," he said after a few moments.

Evvy nodded against his chest and let go, stepping back. She rubbed eyes that ran with tears. "I'm not crying," she said defensively. "I'm washing out the dust. I don't think I can do any more with stones. I feel all – empty."

"That's all right," he reassured her. "You've done plenty of damage already. And don't rub your eyes – that just grinds dirt in. Let the tears wash it out." He offered her his water bottle. Evvy drank half of the contents and poured the rest over her head.

Briar wiped grit and wet