Skymaster by C.E. Murphy

Author:C.E. Murphy
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: [ISBN here]
Publisher: Miz Kit Productions
Published: 2021-09-17T00:00:00+00:00

15

A quiet cry of despair slipped through Rasim's lips. The bladefighters were mere seconds from engaging. Agnet bore down on the spear-carrier, who spun her weapon with ease and confidence. Rasim barely saw the flash of metal before their clash jarred the whole stadium. The other woman was clearly as strong a fighter as Agnet, who also watched the swordsman. Bayar had not put down his own sword, but neither did he look prepared to use it.

The Shenryalan boy was going to die, if Rasim couldn't waken some kind of witchery. Agnet would, too. They were counting on him, and he'd effectively led them into a trap.

The other Ilyaran came closer, not with any obvious intent. His head cocked to one side in apparent curiosity, and when he was certain Rasim was looking at him, he raised one hand and beckoned, as if inviting Rasim to strike back. Rasim shrugged, then, on impulse, called out in Ilyaran. "What's your name?"

His opponent's mouth twisted. "Mikkel."

It was not a Skymaster's name. Pain tugged at Rasim's heart, but he didn't press it. Perhaps the man didn't remember his Ilyaran name. More likely, though, that it was dangerous to even acknowledge he'd ever had another. "I'm not your enemy. I don't want to fight you. If we work together maybe we can escape. Will you try?"

Harsh, soundless laughter broke from Mikkel's mouth, and a shocking blast of wind forced Rasim back several steps. The Skymaster kept coming, though, and Rasim unconsciously tightened his fingers around his sword's hilt. "Fool," Mikkel said, his lips barely moving. They didn't need to, though. His witchery carried the words to Rasim's ears easily enough. "You think any of us will survive if we try to fight our way out? I don't want to fight you either, journeyman, but there are men out there with killing knives."

"You're a sky witch," Rasim said in disbelief. "None of them can even get through your winds, if you want to protect yourself."

"They're not at my throat," Mikkel replied flatly. "I've been permitted a family. Now fight with whatever witchery you have before they decide we're conspiring, or I have to kill you in cold blood."

"I have no power left," Rasim whispered, and with sudden ferocity, rushed the other Ilyaran with his blade.

Genuine surprise flickered over Mikkel's face. He swept his hand across his chest, sending wind to knock Rasim's feet out from under him. Rasim collapsed in a heap at Mikkel's feet, panting and angry. If he'd waited another second or two, he might have been close enough to strike before Mikkel could react.

And then what? he wondered. Would he have killed Mikkel and broken his promise to himself? There were no good answers here. The crowd was screaming, either at him or the bladefighters, he couldn't tell. Mikkel, standing over him, looked uncertain. "You're supposed to be a sea witch."

"I was never much of one anyway." Rasim swept his feet around, knocking into Mikkel's knees and—well, anyone but a sky witch would have fallen.

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