“We should run,” said Nerina. “What are we waiting for?”
Caina felt a mirthless smile spread over her face.
“A storm,” she said.
The Immortals jumped over the alley between the two houses, and then a gray blur slammed into the Immortal on the right.
###
Kylon’s life had once been filled with certainty and purpose, but in the last two years it had dissolved into chaos.
Once he had been a stormdancer of New Kyre, using his skills with blade and elemental sorcery to defend the Kyracian people, acting as his sister Andromache’s strong right hand. Then Andromache had perished in Marsis, slain by her own folly, and Kylon had become the High Seat of House Kardamnos. He had led the fleets of his nation in battle, negotiated peace with the Empire, married an honorable and kindly woman, and become a leader of his nation.
All that had ended in a single day, dying with Thalastre and his unborn child upon the sword of the Red Huntress.
So Kylon had come to Istarinmul to die.
The Master Alchemist Malik Rolukhan and Cassander Nilas, magus of the Umbarian Order, had arranged for the Red Huntress to murder Thalastre and Kylon’s guests. Kylon had come to Istarinmul to avenge his wife and unborn child. He hadn’t expected to succeed, hadn’t even expected to survive the process.
He wouldn’t have, either. He should have died beneath the Craven’s Tower as it burned around him.
Instead, Caina Amalas had saved his life…and Kylon had realized there was far more at stake than his vengeance. Malik Rolukhan and the Red Huntress were but the outstretched hand of the ancient evil that had festered in Istarinmul, an ancient evil that would devour the world.
Kylon was certain of so little now.
He was, however, entirely certain that he would not permit the Immortals to kill Caina.
So he drew on the power of water sorcery to fuel his strength and leapt into the air, the spell giving him the strength of a tidal wave. He timed his leap exactly right and slammed into the Immortal closest to the street. The impact knocked Kylon towards the roof, but it also sent the Immortal tumbling to the ground.
The sound of clanging armor and cracking bone came from the street below.
Kylon hit the roof, rolled, and whirled to his feet, the sorcery of air lending him speed. The remaining four Immortals landed at the edge of the roof, and Kylon spun, driving his fist with all the strength and speed his sorcery could grant. His blow landed in the center of the nearest Immortal’s cuirass, and the strike threw the Immortal backwards and sent him tumbling to the alley.
Again the crack of shattering bone echoed out.
The Immortals were deadly warriors, and they drew their scimitars and charged with admirable speed. They spread out around him, one coming from his left, another from his right, and one straight at him. The men had obviously fought as a unit before, and knew how to attack without getting in each other’s way.
Kylon leaped backwards, the sorcery of air fueling his jump, and landed a dozen paces away. That gave him the time he needed to draw his sword and dagger. Once he had carried a blade of storm-forged steel, wrought by the stormsingers of the Kyracian people, stronger and sharper and lighter than any other blade. It had been no match for the Red Huntress, and the sword of the nagataaru had cut through the blade as if it had been made of straw. The Nighmarian dagger and broadsword that Kylon now carried were good weapons, but they were simply not the equal of a stormdancer’s blade. He had been able to sheathe his blade of storm-forged steel in killing frost, but if he tried that with his current blades, they would shatter like glass from the intense cold.
But that was all right.
He had seen how Caina used her wits, rather than main force, to defeat her opponents, and it had occurred to Kylon that he could do the same. Kylon would never be a powerful sorcerer, but he had been underutilizing what powers he did have.
He raised his sword and dagger, calling on the sorcery of water, and freezing mist swirled around the dagger’s blade. A rime of frost covered the weapon. Had anyone else touched it, their skin would have frozen at once, but Kylon’s command over water sorcery protected him. The cold also made the weapon incredibly fragile, and one good tap would shatter it.