Chapter 10

In a lot of ways, we were evenly matched. Brin could shoot faster, I could shoot farther and more accurately. Durm couldn’t get close to Kaze and her knives, but she’d have a hell of a time taking him down.

Fabiq was the wild card. Her mastery of shadow allowed her to disappear and reappear wherever she wanted. That was a handy skill for an assassin. Worse, she was damned good with that saber of hers.

Lucky for me, drow are a superstitious bunch. Their religion is defined by sacred angles. I could guess, within a few degrees, where she’d appear.

I trusted Kaze to cover me, turned, and fired my musket. Fabiq melted out of the shadows at that exact instant and grunted as the ball slammed into her shoulder. Her enchanted leather armor shrugged off the bullet, mere lead instead of armor piercing. I didn’t want to rely on AP in a city. At full charge, an AP ball would go straight through a house. Too risky.

She damn well felt it, though.

I pressed the advantage, jabbing at her face with the muzzle. She slipped the blow to the side and crouched, her blade thrust at my midsection. Steel clanged against steel as I parried and sidestepped, the weight of my musket knocking her attack offline and wrenching her shoulder. I stepped forward and stomped at her head. She vanished again.

“Damn.”

The first attack came from the right at seventy degrees. The next would come from the left at 210. Sevens and threes, those held meaning for drow. I flipped my musket around and swung the butt like a club.

This time, she didn’t have time to slip the blow. It crashed against her skull, dropping her to the cobbles.

My heart dropped. I didn’t mean to hit her in the head. Did I pull the swing enough?

Risk be damned, I knelt next to her prone form and probed the side of her head with my fingertips. It was a bloody mess; scalp wounds bleed like crazy. No sign of a fracture.

“Concussed!” I called. “Not dead.”

“We’re trying to kill you, dammit!” Durm bellowed. “Stop being a gentleman and fight!”

He had a point. I rolled to the side, just in time for one of Brin’s arrows to zip past. The angle was different from the last time she shot. She wasn’t shooting from the same place twice. That was smart. I could track the little bursts of mana she used to draw her overweight bow if she stood still.

That bought me time. Could I reload before she relocated? Only one way to find out.

I ducked into the alley, hoping for a little cover, and fished a cartridge out of the box on my waist. The twisted end, I bit off and spat on the ground. I’d have to collect it later. I hate littering.

The first few grains of powder were finer than the rest. With one hand, I thumbed open the pan and poured the priming powder into it, ensuring there was enough touching the flash hole to ensure a spark. The pan was closed, and I set the butt of the musket on the ground. The rest of the powder, I poured down the muzzle, and then stuffed the rest of the cartridge, ball and all, in.

It was a tight fit by design. The less of a gap between ball and barrel, the better. The wax on the paper acted as a lubricant, easing friction just enough that I could push it down a few centimeters with my thumb. Next came the ramrod. I ripped it out of its resting place below the barrel, flipped it around, and rammed the ball and powder home. It took four hard strokes to seat it properly. Job done, I replaced the ram rod, shouldered the firelock, and drew it back to full cock.

Where was Brin?

I scanned the rooftops. Her composite bow, made of laminated orc horn and dragon claw, was a real beast to draw. She would have to stand to use the muscles of her back, mana be damned. That would give me a spit second to aim and fire.

Who was faster? There was only one way to find out.

I walked out in the open, musket raised to the skyline, daring her to take her shot. If she had a weakness, it was her pride. She knew I was baiting her. She also knew, deep down, that she’d never forgive herself if she turned down the challenge.

There was a flash of motion from the rooftop. I swept my muzzle towards it, but held my shot. That was the distraction. Sure enough, a cloak came fluttering down. That meant that she would be-

I fired on instinct, some five meters to the right of the cloak. Brin cried and toppled forward, clutching her chest.

Again, instinct took over as I raced to catch her before she hit the ground. I made it just in time, tackling her sideways to break the fall.

“Hey there, lover,” she gasped. “Long time no see.”

“Damned long time,” I said. “Hold still, and no funny business. Where are you-”

I half expected her to try to gut me, so I was ready to trap her wrist. I slammed it against the ground until she released the dagger.

“Really?” I asked, exasperated.

“Had to try.”

“Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

The front of her tunic was covered in blood. No telling where the shot entered. I tore it open and swept across her pale skin with my hands. Sure enough, there was a hole on the left side of her torso, just under her ribcage. There was a clean exit on her back, the angle nearly perfectly straight. She must have been leaning over when I shot her.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing fatal.

“Potions?” I asked.

“I got it,” she said. “Help your friend.”

I glanced up. Durm was on the ground, Kaze sitting lightly on his back, her expression thoroughly amused. The big man was bellowing and cursing up a storm, but judging by the way his arms hung limply at his side, she’d severed the tendons, much like I had done to her when we fought.

“I think she’ll be fine,” I said.

“Alas. Belt, then. You know where.”

I did, at that. Brin and I were close, once upon a time. I reached into her utility pouch and pulled out a pair of vials of crimson liquid. I popped the cork on the first and dumped it directly into the wound. The second, I poured in her mouth, more slowly this time, careful not to choke her.

“Much obliged, lover.”

“If we weren’t broken up before, trying to kill me would be a dealbreaker,” I said.

“And here I was getting all hot and bothered,” she said. “You did rip my shirt open, after all.”

Not that there was much to see. Like most of her kind, she kept her breasts bound with cotton wraps to keep them from interfering with her archery.

“I’ve neither the time nor the inclination to play with you,” I growled. “Do I need to tie your hands?”

“I’ll be a good girl,” she promised. “We tried our best and lost. That won’t be a penalty.”

“Then get to a healer,” I said. “Fabiq probably needs one more than you. You know how time critical concussions are.”

“What about Durm? I can’t carry him.”

“You’ll have to figure it out,” I said. “We’ve got to go.”

“One last question,” she said. “This new girl. What’s her name?”

“Her name is Kaze, and it’s not like that,” I said. “Not like us.”

“A shame. She’s pretty, and you’ve been alone for far too long, Garan. You’re allowed to be happy, you know.”

“There’ll be time to think about that once the job is done,” I said. “For now, I need to keep focused.”

Her expression turned bitter, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

I wanted to tell her I was sorry, maybe try to explain myself, but there wasn’t time. So, I gave her hand a squeeze, stood, and walked away. Kaze and I still had a long way to go before we could rest.