The Sword of Kaigen_A Theonite War Story by M. L. Wang

Author:M. L. Wang [Wang, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-16T22:00:00+00:00

MAMORU

Mamoru made such quick work of the five fonyakalu that it didn’t seem real. Was this what it was like to be Uncle Takashi, he wondered as he whirled, cutting through two yellow-clad soldiers in the same slash. If it was—if this was how good it felt—then he supposed he was happy his uncle had died fighting.

The bodies hit the snow and lay still. Mamoru stood among them, shoulders back, breathing hard in a mixture of exertion and exhilaration. After confirming that there were no more fonyakalu advancing up the slope, he ran to the Kotetsus’ house and started digging through the rubble. Reaching out with his jiya, it didn’t take him long to find Atsushi.

“Mamo—Matsuda-dono!” the boy’s voice broke in relief.

Atsushi had always been quick with his jiya for a numu and it had saved his life. He had braced the debris off of his body with a pair of thick ice pillars. He didn’t have the strength to push it off him entirely, but Mamoru did.

“Atsushi-kun. On three, we’re going to lift together. Ichi... ni... san!” Their combined jiya shoved the debris upward and Atsushi scrambled out from underneath.

Mamoru grabbed his hand and pulled him to safety. Before he let the load back down, Mamoru stuck his arm underneath the house one last time, extending his fingers, feeling for the pulse of living blood. If Atsushi had survived the collapse, maybe someone else had too. Maybe... but no pulses pulled at Mamoru’s fingertips. Only a slow, iron-laden ooze he was coming to recognize as blood leaving a corpse. Closing his eyes, he withdrew his arm and released his jiya, letting what remained of the house crash down.

Atsushi was clinging to his sleeve, shaking.

“Mamoru!” the little blacksmith gasped, forgetting formality in a mixture of anger and hysteria. “My mother is still under there! My grandmother—”

“Listen to me Atsushi-kun.” Mamoru held the boy firmly by the shoulders. “Your mother is—” The words caught in his throat. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t imagine hearing those words, so he chose different ones. “All your mother would want is for you to live.” And that was worse—because he didn’t have to imagine. He had seen the look on Kaa-chan’s face when he pulled himself from her hands, watched her fingers grasp at the air where he had been. “That’s all she would want. Your grandmother too. You know that.”

Atsushi was shaking his head in denial, his eyes shining with tears. And, perhaps because he suddenly felt tears threatening in his own eyes, Mamoru slid an arm around Atsushi and pressed the little blacksmith to his shoulder.

“For your mother, Atsushi-kun. Head up the mountain. Catch up with your father if you can. If you can’t, find a safe place to take shelter. You know this mountain better than the fonyakalu. If you hide...”

Mamoru trailed off as something caught his attention: a flash of black on the rocks above—too fast to be a passing bird. His heart dropped.

“Run, Atsushi-kun!”

“What—”

“Run!” Mamoru threw the boy from him.

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