Kylar stiffened, but there was no help for the noise. He took two quick breaths, then launched off the tower wall with both feet. He swung back toward the open window and heaved his body up with the force of his Talent as if he swinging on a giant swing.
The shutter tore away from the tower in his hands, and he barely made it high enough not to slam into the wall, instead sliding into the bedchamber along the floor.
His body swept Durzo’s feet out from under him and the wetboy fell on top of Kylar, one of his hook swords going flying out the window. The shutter was between them, trapping Durzo’s hands in an awkward position. Kylar slapped the shutter into Durzo’s face.
“I don’t—” Kylar slammed the shutter into Durzo’s face with all of his strength and Talent. The man flew off him.
Kylar rolled aside and jumped to his feet.
But Blint was already up. He kicked a footstool at Kylar. Kylar blocked it with a foot, but it caught him off-balance and tripped him. He landed face-first on a decorative rug.
Running forward like lightning, Blint raised the hook sword. Instead of trying to stand or roll aside, Kylar grabbed the rug and yanked.
Durzo lurched forward faster than he expected and cut only air as his knees collided with Kylar’s shoulder. He flipped over headfirst.
Durzo’s heavy curved sword was still lodged in the bureau next to the window, but Retribution was closer. Kylar grabbed it and turned.
“—want to—”
The wetboy lunged to grab the hook sword off the ground.
“—fight you!” Kylar jumped on the hook sword.
Durzo pulled up with all the strength of his Talent. For an instant, it seemed the iron core of the blade would hold. Then the sword snapped an inch from the hilt.
“You might not want to, son, but there’s something in you that refuses to die,” Durzo said. He threw the broken blade aside, but didn’t draw any other weapon.
“Master, don’t make me fight you,” Kylar said, pointing the blade at Durzo’s throat.
“You made your choice when you disobeyed me.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“I wouldn’t have apprenticed you, but I thought you were something you’re not. May the Night Angels forgive me.”
“I don’t mean me!” Kylar’s hands shook on the sword. “Why’d you make me betray my best friend?”
“Because you broke the rules. Because life’s empty. Because I broke the rules too.” Durzo shrugged. “It catches up.”
“That’s not good enough!”
Durzo tented his hands and pursed his lips. “Logan died screaming, you know. Pathetic.”
Kylar lashed out. The sword streaked for Durzo’s neck. But Durzo didn’t flinch. The blade slapped into his palm and stopped as if it didn’t even have an edge.
But Durzo’s hands were still tented in front of him. The hand holding Kylar’s sword was made of pure magic.
It flung Retribution out of Kylar’s grip. Other hands bloomed in the air, striking at him. Kylar blocked and stumbled back as Durzo walked forward calmly, surging with Talent.
There was nothing Kylar could do. He blocked faster and faster, but the hands came faster still. Dimly, a few hands of his own Talent bloomed in front of him and blocked some of the attacks, but it wasn’t enough. Durzo drove him back and back.
Finally, hands latched onto each of Kylar’s limbs and pinned him to the wall. He couldn’t move an inch.
“Ah, kid,” Durzo said. “If I could have taught you to use your Talent, you’d have been something really special.”
Durzo drew a throwing dagger. Spun it in his fingers. Brought it up. He paused as if to say something, then shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Kylar.”
“Don’t be. Life’s empty, right?”
Durzo sighed. He was staring at Retribution, gleaming blackly at Kylar’s feet, as close as the moonlight and as far away as the moon. The look on his scarred face was anguish, regret.
Following his gaze, Kylar stared at the black sword that Durzo had carried for so many years, and remembered—
Scowling, Durzo had snatched the pouch away from him and turned it over. The Globe of Edges fell into his hand. “Damn. Just what I thought,” he said, his voice harsh in the quiet of the Jadwin hallway.
“What?” Kylar asked.
It was a fake, another fake ka’kari.
But Durzo wasn’t in any mood to answer questions. “Did the girl see your face?”
Kylar’s silence was enough.
“Take care of it. Kylar, that’s not a request. It’s an order. Kill her.”
“No,” Kylar said.
“What did you say?” Durzo asked, incredulous. Black blood was dribbling down Retribution, pooling on the floor.