you are the human prophesied to restore kobolds to the glory they knew before the Neosolar Empire destroyed their kingdoms.”
“Keep your voice down,” Nicodemus whispered and pulled the tattooed attack spell from his hip. Holding it low in the grass to hide its shine, he let the text fold into a flickering broadsword.
“Each night, they will teach you a new lesson. Tonight’s lesson, I believe, is the tactical importance of a decoy.”
Nicodemus froze and then looked up at the goddess. “A deco—”
The charging kobold hit him from behind and wrapped two cloth-covered arms around his chest. The force of the tackle knocked the indigo sword from Nicodemus’s hands and launched both of them into the air. There was a horrible moment of falling as the kobold bellowed out victory. Then they struck lake water with a jarring splash. Twisting violently, Nicodemus slammed his fist into what he assumed was the monster’s face and reached for a blasting spell he had tattooed down his back.
BOANN WATCHED NICODEMUS and the kobold splash into the lake. Beside her Shannon and an ancient kobold chieftain deconstructed their subtexts. Shannon cleared his throat. “Was it truly necessary to deceive the boy? At least we could have told him that you had spoken with the kobold tribe.”
Boann shook her head. “Now he will never forget this lesson.”
Shannon frowned as his parrot eyed the water under which Nicodemus had disappeared. “You are sure this warplay won’t kill him?”
Just then a blast of what looked like indigo fire erupted from the lake’s surface. Because she was a goddess, Boann could see all magical languages. Presently, she watched the shockwave of Nicodemus’s spell blow water and the kobold attacker high into the air. The yelling humanoid landed on the muddy bank with a thud. An instant later, a sputtering Nicodemus emerged in the shallows. He was stripped to the waist and peeling a wartext from his side.
“Yes, Magister, quite sure it won’t kill him,” Boann said dryly. “I’m more concerned he will kill one of his instructors.”
The chieftain sniffed in disdain. “Any kobold who could be killed by a human new to skinwriting, savior or no, deserves to die.”
Boann smiled tightly. “And how good is Nicodemus in your languages?”
The gnarled kobold scratched his beardless chin. “Considering he has been skinwriting for only a season, he is the best I have seen.”
Shannon spoke up. “And that troubles me. His disability in the wizardly languages is growing worse. He cannot control even simple spells now.”
“Magister! Boann!” Nicodemus yelled from the water. “There are kobolds all around!” Two more subtextualized kobolds were stalking the shore. The monster he had thrown off with the blast spell had regained his feet.
Boann called down to Nicodemus. “Tonight, your task is to avoid capture. If you can make it to sunrise without being tied up or killed you are doing well.”
The boy had covered himself with plates of violet light, textual armor, she guessed. He seemed about to answer her when the kobolds charged.
The chieftain nodded at the blast and counter-blast of textual battle. “This is excellent. Now we shall teach him evasion and stealth. In late autumn we shall put warriors under his charge and teach him to lead. He will compete in this year’s New Moon War. Then other tribes will witness his power and know that we have found our savior at last.”
Shannon was scowling. “That would slow his training in the wizardly languages and delay his attempt to learn more about his new Language Prime fluency.”
Boann waved this comment away. “Those can wait. After so much loss, he will benefit from a taste of success and a chance to become a leader.” She looked at Shannon. “Besides, if he is to survive outside of this valley, he will need time for the lessons of warplay to become instinct.”
Shannon narrowed his white eyes. “So let us teach him to survive, but why turn him into some kind of warlord?”
“Not a warlord,” Boann corrected, “but a commander. His half-sister is presently being tutored by Trillinonish generals and Ixonian admirals. She is the one who will lead humanity’s forces in the War of Disjunction. But before she does that, she must track down and kill the Language Prime spellwright who enabled Typhon to write the dragon that attacked Trillinon. I doubt she knows that she is training to kill her half-brother.”
Just then the kobolds yelped as Nicodemus cast an indigo shockwave that knocked them over. Wasting no time, the boy sprinted away down the lake