The Way of the Sword and Gun Page 2

  "Admit it," Fawbry said, his unkempt hair dirtier now from rolling in the road. "You thought I had run away."

  Malja slapped Fawbry on the shoulder. "Doesn't matter what I thought. You did well, and I thank you. Now, let's go before we have to deal with the town."

  Too late. The townspeople hurried out of their hiding spots, all smiles and giddy laughter, and rushed over to thank Malja and her crew. With false modesty, Fawbry allowed two buxom ladies to walk him off while listening to him recount what had just occurred. Others surrounded Tommy, unbothered by his silence, and offered him drinks and hugs and even a few kisses.

  Malja waved off those who approached her and scowled at any who tried to congratulate her. She knew none of it was genuine. They simply wanted to ingratiate themselves with who they thought now ruled them. Only after a few days alone might they understand they were now free to choose their own path.

  Fawbry let out a high laugh and his girls tittered. Malja grinned. He would definitely get one of the girls before the night ended. She would have gladly scouted out a suitable man for her own amusement, such opportunities didn't come often to a traveling warrior, but this night, she had to deal with the boy. She brushed by a few open arms and grabbed Tommy by the elbow.

  "Go celebrate," she said to those who followed her. "I've got to confer with my friend here. Then we'll join the party."

  Deeper in the growing crowd, somebody opened a barrel of wine. That was enough to pull the stragglers away from Malja. No amount of celebrity could outshine free alcohol.

  Once they were far enough from eavesdroppers, Malja whirled Tommy around. "Don't you ever do that again," she said.

  Tommy glared at her.

  Owl

  The afternoon had cooled from the rains but not uncomfortably so, and Owl preferred it that way. Standing in the Great Field, an open plain that crossed the entire Penmarvian countryside, he tried hard not to bounce from foot to foot while Chief Master knelt on a mat and meditated. Soon, Queen Salia would arrive and a meeting in search of peace would begin. Owl had to make sure that meeting went smoothly.

  His eyes shifted amongst the patches of overgrown grass surrounding them. While Chief Master could spend the time quieting his mind, Owl's job required vigilance. All his years of training in the Way were finally being brought to the test.

  They had promoted him to Guardian that morning. They gave him a tailored tan coat that both looked sharp, with its fancy inner-lining of swirls, and allowed him the range of motion needed to fight. Their trust for Chief Master's safety had been placed upon him.

  "It's perfectly fine for you to meditate now," Chief Master said, his aged voice standing out in the wide field. "We're in no danger."

  "Of course, we are," Owl said, and though his voice was calm, his face betrayed his tension. For once, he felt grateful for his dark skin — Chief Master never could read Owl's face well.

  When he first came to the Order as an orphan, all the Masters marveled at his dark skin. They had heard about such people living in the wild South of Corlin, but in Penmarvia, people tended to be either pale or tan. At eighty-seven, Chief Master was too set in his world view and continued to have difficulty.

  He placed his bony hand on Owl's knee. "You must learn to listen to all my lessons. Not just the ones that suit you."

  "Forgive me," Owl said, bowing his head.

  Chief Master chuckled like a creaking door. "Being here has certainly put you on edge. A warrior is no good to anyone, least of all himself, if his mind is clouded and his body tense. Besides, this is not a day for battle. It's just politics."

  "Yes, Chief Master, I understand."

  "If you understand so well, then why are you still standing?"

  Owl knelt next to Chief Master. The wet ground soaked through his thin pants, staining the simple gray cloth with mud. He clenched his eyes and tried to force a sense of calm. Instead, he shivered.

  His hands danced over the hilt of his sword and the grip of his gun. His sword was a perfect weapon — thin, balanced, and sleek, yet sturdy and deadly. His gun had a simple design. Few remained who knew how to make guns, but simple didn't mean useless. It had a dual-chamber allowing one shot more than most, and he kept it in perfect working condition — as he had been trained.

  With a huff, he got up and brushed off his pants. "I can't stop worrying about being here. When you first told me I was to be your escort, I should have been ecstatic. I know what this means. But I keep wondering — why me? Brother X is a far better fighter."

  "Not as far as you think. You are probably the second best we have trained."

  "But he's first. He's the best. You've trained all the Guardians in the Way of the Sword and Gun so that we could protect every magician in the Order. Why isn't he here protecting you?"

  "Breathe in, Owl. Hold. Now, let it go. You worry so much. Brother X has been gone for a few weeks. So, even if I had wanted to use him, he's not around to be used. But I also know that life often presents opportunities, if we are willing to grasp them. You are more than capable of succeeding today. I have the fullest faith in you. So, why not enjoy this opportunity? All of this world has suffered in the generations since the Devastation. We must learn to find the pleasure in any moment. We've enough pain."

  Owl snickered. "You never stop teaching me."

  "All my pupils will always be my pupils. Since the day you came to us, I knew I wanted to teach you. That's the joy of being Chief Master. We get to focus on the most promising students."

  "But the Queen—"

  "The Queen is the Queen. We have no control over what she will say or do. We'll simply present our views and pray to the brother god Kryssta that she can be reasoned with. Besides, it's not like she's a follower of Korstra."

  "That would be a travesty," Queen Salia said as she stepped off her transport — a huge box-shaped vehicle pulled by three magician-powered flyers tethered with long cables. The flyers, small dart-shaped crafts, made a low hum as they hovered.

  She moved with grace as she approached Chief Master on his plain mat. With her shoulders held back proud like a strutting bird, she lifted a perfect eyebrow and waited to be acknowledged. Her golden hair, straight at the jawline, formed a crown that only heightened the jeweled tiara resting atop her head.

  Owl snapped to attention. He should never have listened to Chief Master. How could he be excused for letting the Queen approach without noticing?

  Chief Master placed his hands on the mat and brought his chin to his chest showing great respect. "May Kryssta watch over you."

  Though he remained standing, Owl repeated the phrase, "May Kryssta watch over you."

  "And you both," Salia said, standing a few feet before them.

  With a labored groan, Chief Master rose to his feet, his knees crackling as he moved. "Oh, for a younger man's body. Enjoy your youth, both of you, for like power, it is always temporary."

  Salia's eyes widened. "Are you really beginning with threats?"

  "No, no, you misunderstand. I have great respect for you and for your strength. Sometimes my mind likes to make little observations, that's all. I'm sure you'll hold on to your power for a long time."

  Salia seemed placated but wary. Owl felt the same. He'd been Chief Master's pupil for so long, had spent so many years seeing the man display the strongest spirit, that it seemed bizarre to watch him behave as an inferior. Chief Master had said this was politics, but just in the opening words, Owl found the whole thing confusing. Who had the real power? The old man who showed weakness or the grand Queen who showed arrogance?

  "You are wasting this audience," Salia said.

  Chief Master bent over unnecessarily — Owl knew the old man could stand firm and strong — which made him appear smaller. "My apologies. And thank you for meeting us without all the pageantry and soldiers."

  "I have no fear of you."

  "Nor should you. But it is a great sign of your trust, and we acknowledge it. Though you requested this meeting, I am most grateful
for the opportunity. I come on behalf of the Order of Kryssta for I see great potential in an alliance between us."

  "A bunch of magicians?"

  "The best magicians. We have devoted our lives to the study of magic and a resurrection of the wonderful benefits magic once brought this world."

  Salia's face darkened. "Like the Devastation. Meddling with powers you didn't understand took everything away, destroyed all the cities, killed off nearly all the life. My own scientists have calculated that the Devastation probably left our species with maybe a million people. On the entire planet."

  "And we feel the full gravity of those events every day. We understand why so many fear us. But generations have passed since those days. And, if properly trained both in magic and in Kryssta, there is no reason for magicians to lose their way ever again. We once powered the world with buildings that flew and vehicles that moved on their own. We brought light into homes and created ways for people to communicate over vast distances in an instant. With your help, we can do this again. Safely. Carefully. And you, as Queen, will have the most control over this power."

  "And in return?"

  Chief Master stepped closer to Salia, his back straightening just a bit. "We wish to be allowed to cross the Great Field and find a safe haven in Salia City. My magicians can provide for the people, but we will not become slaves nor will we allow persecution."

  "Interesting word." Salia stepped in front of Owl, moving in precise, stiff motions. She looked him over and said, "Tell me, Guard Dog, what does he teach you of persecution?"

  Owl looked to Chief Master, but there was no way to receive any instructions other than a nod. "I-I know that fear can make people do many things they wouldn't do otherwise."

  Raising her eyebrows, Salia said, "Let me take Chief Master's place for just a moment and educate you." She pushed close against Owl's side. She smelled of flowers — he didn't know the names — and that delicate aroma made her words more threatening. "When the Devastation came," she said, "the world fell into anarchy, chaos. Many lands, like those in the South, were sparse to begin with which made it easier for them to survive on their own terms. In Penmarvia, however, we lived in densely-packed cities. Even after the Devastation struck, even after so many millions upon millions died, there were still too many to get along easily."

  Trying to sound understanding, Owl said, "I know my history."

  "Do you? Did the Order teach you how they formed to protect themselves from the backlash against magic, and then, when they thought it safe, they descended upon the city and carved it up between them? Each Order magician claimed a section, and each magician answered to nobody. Isn't that right, Chief Master?"

  "That was a different time," Chief Master said. "Long before any of us was even a glimmer of thought."

  "The problem with you magicians is that you never bother with those glimmers, never think about tomorrow. You just satisfy your immediate desires, and you're never satisfied."

  "That's enough," Chief Master said, and though his voice remained steady, Owl saw the flash of fire in his eyes.

  Salia matched it with her own fury. "You and your kind's insatiable desires created war upon war within the blocks of my city. I don't care how long ago it began. It was still going on when I grew up. It was the world I lived in."

  Through a forced, placating expression, Chief Master said, "You changed all that. You rallied the people, defeated those misguided magicians . . . and disposed of them. You brought Salia City into prosperity. It is the reason you are called Queen. In recognition, we retreated to the other side of the Great Field and built the Order compound. Please. I have spent my life educating my students about peace. We are ready to work for your people as equals."

  Salia crossed her arms. "Strange how you've chosen now to come before me."

  "How so?"

  "When I first became Queen I offered to discuss terms between our kinds so that we could live peacefully. I was rejected."

  "That was a different time, and I wasn't Chief Master then."

  Salia raised her index finger. "I think you are here today because you know I have recruited my own magicians and use them like dogs on the outlying towns, helping me bring more people into my fold. You're here because you know that when I finish with these magicians, they'll be executed. And I think you suspect my army is closing in on the Order compound."

  "Please, listen. We have much to offer."

  "We have no need for sharing with magicians, and we certainly have no need for the Order. As descendants and accomplices of those who tortured us, your very existence is a constant threat to ours."

  Chief Master clenched his fists and said in a voice Owl had only ever heard when he wanted to cow a student, "Listen to me now. We have a chance to create peace before there is war."

  Salia patted her chest in mock surprise. "Now that sounds like a real threat."

  Chief Master pulled back his sleeves and raised his arms. It was a dramatic pose, but it served a practical purpose — Chief Master could easily see the tattoos he needed in order to enact a spell. Things had turned sour so quickly that Owl's skin prickled when he saw the pose. His hands moved toward his weapons, prepared just in case.

  Without losing a sliver of her amused expression, Salia said, "Just like your kind. You don't like a situation, you resort to magic. What's the matter, Chief Master? Not really good at diplomacy? Can't you handle things on your own? Perhaps dear Kryssta will help you."

  "How dare you!" Chief Master's eyes blazed wide open. "You act like a Korstra-worshiper, whining that life has been hard and unfair. You're a child who has wet her pants and doesn't know what to do."

  "You forget your place."

  "I know our history better than you. I know what it's like to be persecuted day after day for something you had nothing to do with. And now, after generations, it seemed we had all settled into an uneasy co-existence. I came here in good faith to solidify that peace, to make it so that no man, no magician, ever needed to fear again. But if your intention is to expand your holdings while misusing and abusing my people, then you will feel the full wrath of a magician."

  Salia opened her arms wide and grinned. "It's a good thing, then, that my army has not been approaching your Order. Rather my army has been decimating the Order this whole time."

  "W-What?" Chief Master stumbled back as if struck in the chest.

  Owl rushed to his side.

  "The Order is no more," Salia said, her voice harsh now. Calculating. "The magicians are all dead. And the Library is mine."

  Chief Master fell to one knee. "The Library? That's not possible. How do you even know about it?"

  Salia gestured toward the darkness of the transport. "Why he told me, of course."

  A man dressed in fine crimson robes stepped out. His strong frame supported an arrogant swagger that Owl had seen many times before. Even if Owl's mind refused to acknowledge the truth, seeing the fine sword and well-made gun on this figure's waist could not be denied.

  "Brother X?" Chief Master said, tears filling his eyes.

  Owl pulled out his sword and gun in one practiced motion. Before he had settled into his fighting stance, though, Brother X flashed out his own weapons and closed in. Owl danced backward with graceful ease, but Brother X's speed startled him.

  "Now, now," Salia said and Brother X halted. "We don't want these two dead. Not yet."

  Chief Master never took his eyes off his prized pupil. With his hands trembling, he managed one question. "How long?"

  Brother X lifted his lip with such disdain that Chief Master's breath caught. Salia moved between the two. "Your dear Brother X has always worked for me. From the day he joined the Order, he has fed me information. All you are has always been mine. We just had to wait for the right time to strike."

  Owl knew he shouldn't speak, but he could not hold back. He pointed his blade at Brother X, its tip shivering like his voice. "I-I wanted to be like you. I-I thought you were our best."

  "He is your
best," Salia said. "And soon he'll be even better. Now that I know of the Library and the Twelve Books; now that the Books are in my possession."

  Owl opened his mouth to curse them but a grating laughter stopped him. To his side, Chief Master covered his grinning mouth like an embarrassed child. Even as his eyes continued to tear, he laughed.

  "You have nothing," he said, sounding a bit drunk. Then, he stepped forward, and his stern, masterful voice returned. "You have nothing. The Library, the Twelve Books, the Order — you have destroyed or taken it all. Congratulations. But Brother X only knows what we tell him." Salia's gloating face faltered. Chief Master went on, "And since you've been here, you haven't had the chance to see the treasures you have won."

  "What of it?" Salia snapped.

  "Do you really think the learned men and women of the Order would just let our most dangerous knowledge sit around for anybody to take hold of? That was the kind of irresponsible thing magicians did in the past." Chief Master looked at his hands and shook his head. "We were bad people long ago. But no more. The Books are in code, and you'll never find the thirteenth book to decode them."

  "And why is that?" Salia asked through gritted teeth.

  "I suspect you've destroyed it along with everything else that was useful at the Order. Just like I'll destroy you."

  With a flick of his wrist, Chief Master turned his hands outward. Too late, everyone realized that Chief Master hadn't been staring at his hands in regret but rather had been building another spell. A bolt of ice shot from his hand creating a vapor trail in the cool air.

  Brother X moved so fast, so fluid, that Owl barely had time to marvel let alone react. Twirling like a Master of the Way, Brother X knocked the ice aside with his sword. As his body spun around, his other hand brandished a handgun that glinted a shred of sunlight. He fired.