Fyn muttered a string of curses. ‘Have you both lost your brains? The rod isn’t up here, and we’re wasting time listening to a dead man!’
Annev turned back to Janak, something bothering him. Why was he delaying the mission? Had he been trying to decide whether Janak or Tosan was in the right, or had it been something else? He still wanted to listen to the merchant’s words, to be sympathetic—
Fyn spun, hurling his knife at Janak. The dagger flew through the air, flipping end over end over end … then it froze, the blade stuck in mid-air, its point less than an inch from the merchant’s chest.
Fyn’s mouth dropped open. At the same time, Annev felt a thick fog lift from his thoughts. He glanced at Kenton and saw the other boy had undergone a similar transformation.
Janak plucked the floating dagger from the air with an exasperated sigh. ‘That was hasty,’ he said, twirling the blade between his fingers. ‘You broke my concentration.’
‘How …?’ Fyn asked, his eyes wide.
‘This?’ Janak waggled the knife at Fyn. ‘A ward of deflection. It protects against both mundane and magical attacks.’
‘You tried to compel us,’ Annev said, clarity dawning. ‘To snare us like you did Duvarek.’
‘I did,’ Janak said, pulling a gold rod from beneath his lap blanket. He set the wand beside the lamp then rested his hands on both items. ‘It’s not so difficult to control more than one target – in fact, I’ve got over a hundred tied to me right now – but it seems to function best when the target is sympathetic and when you give the compulsion time to take hold. Once you’ve properly broken a person, though, there doesn’t appear to be a limit to the number of thralls you can manipulate.’ He tsked, balancing the knife in his hand. ‘If I had guessed the “faithless warrior” would act so rashly, I might have targeted him first instead of your leader.’
‘Stop stalling,’ Annev said, recognising the tiny yet insistent tug from the merchant’s Rod of Compulsion this time. Now he knew what to expect, and he found it easier to ignore the magically induced impulses. ‘You’re not going to snare us again.’
‘No,’ Janak sighed, ‘I suspect I won’t. I’ll have to content myself with having only one thrall, which means the three of you must die.’
Annev shifted his feet, alert for an attack. As if on cue, he heard a faint rumbling noise coming from the floor below them, and he glanced uneasily at the door.
‘Which reminds me,’ Janak continued, ‘I believe this is yours.’ He sent the knife hurtling towards Fyn’s chest. The boy dropped to the ground, barely dodging, and the blade clipped his shoulder before skittering to the back of the room.
‘Blood and filth!’ Fyn swore, clapping a hand to his injury. ‘I’m going to cut out your heart, you keokum-spawned Son of Keos!’
Janak sniffed, unfazed by Fyn’s threats. ‘It’s funny, you know. If Tosan hadn’t spurned me, I never would have sought out Cruithear – and if he hadn’t promised me new legs and assistance finding the Oracle, I never would have known the extent of what the Academy has stolen from me. So, in a very literal sense, the Academy brought this doom upon themselves.’ He caressed the brass lamp and Rod of Compulsion, his eyes reflecting the pain and fury he had been so carefully concealing. ‘I’m looking forward to Duvarek taking me and my men to Chaenbalu. I wonder … do you think Tosan will expect it? Will your avatars and witwomen put up a fight, or will they hide in your Academy and watch as we slaughter your villagers?’
Outside in the hall, the faint rumbling grew closer, transforming into the sound of many sturdy boots tramping across carpet-padded stone.
Annev wondered if they could retreat, then realised it was too late. As a sense of dread washed over him, he adjusted his grip on the shortsword and axe then turned to face whatever was coming through the door.
Fyn seemed to have reached the same decision for he clasped his wrists, snatched a fresh pair of throwing knives from each bracer, and moved purposefully towards the door. On the opposite side of the room, Kenton turned but held his position near Janak; with the careful poise of a Master Avatar, he raised the tachi over his head and assumed the heron form, his blade facing outward, its point dipping slightly in front of him. His body and face looked calm, yet his eyes revealed the fear they all felt.
The footsteps had reached the door, and Annev’s attention flickered between it and the merchant, unsure whom to engage first if he wished to survive the next hour. A heartbeat later, something crashed into the ironwood door and a gruff voice shouted for keys.
‘You know,’ Janak drawled, leaning back in his chair, ‘the Oracle said you’d probably destroy my study. She never said I’d be hurt, though, or that Tosan would get what he wants. In fact, she implied the opposite.’ He traced the small runes on the brass incense lamp and flashed a bitter smile. ‘I think I’m comfortable with that.’
Chapter Fifty-Six
Six men in black-and-blue uniforms poured into the room, their short capes flapping behind them, their weapons brandished in front of them.
‘Blood and hell,’ Kenton swore and sprinted forward to support Fyn.
At the opposite end of the room, Fyn stepped up to meet the onrush of guards. Two angled towards him and Fyn answered their charge with a flurry of thrown daggers. The men spun away, their chests and throats bristling with sharpened steel, but the other guards pushed onward, trampling the dead and dying to get to Fyn and protect Janak.
Fyn threw another pair of daggers, bringing a third man down, and then the guards were on him. He snatched the two flanged maces off his back and spun towards a burly man with a blond beard and a second man with an eyepatch. They brought their swords to bear, but Fyn ducked low, swung outward with both maces, and smashed in their kneecaps. Both men screamed, their legs buckling beneath them, and, as they fell, Fyn reversed his swing, crushing a face and the side of a skull.
Kenton engaged with the sixth guard just as four more men entered the study, their spears and shields forming a wall at the back of the room. Before they could save their companion, though, Kenton feinted, lunged, and disembowelled the man.
Annev reached Kenton’s side as the second group began their advance. Shortsword, axe and tachi danced among the men’s thrusting spearheads. Using Mercy, Annev caught the haft of the leftmost spear and used his axe to pull the guard’s shield from the group’s protective formation. Kenton took the opening and snapped his tachi to the side, stabbing the guard’s exposed neck. The man dropped to the ground, a fountain of blood pulsing from his wound, and the remaining guards retreated to coordinate with a new squad carrying crossbows.
‘Bloody hell,’ Kenton swore when he saw them.
‘Get behind the pillars!’ Annev yelled, diving for cover. His companions followed and a chorus of twanging bow strings chased after them. Kenton cried out, clutching his thigh, and slid to the floor. Annev looked over and the boy waved him off.