The ground in front of Kord rumbled, shifting, and the thing that hauled itself up out of the earth, its hide and limbs all of stone, looked like nothing that Tavi had ever seen. It had the long body of a slive, but its tail curled up over its back, held in the air like a club. Its mouth was hideously elongated and filled with flint-sharp jags of teeth. As Tavi watched, it twisted its head to one side, opened its jaws, and let out a granite-deep, rumbling growl.
Beside Kord, Bittan took the cover from a ceramic fire-pot. Red flames licked up from it as he did, and they curled into the shape of a reared serpent, hovering and ready to strike, flaming eyes bright. The tall and slender Aric, on Kord’s other side, steepled his fingers together and wind and bits of bracken swirled around him, casting back his cloak in a shape vaguely like great wings.
“Don’t do this, Kord,” Bernard said. The ground beside him stirred, and then Brutus thrust his way up out of the soil, until the rocky hound’s broad head rested beneath Bernard’s hand, emerald eyes focused on the Kordholters. Brutus gave his great shoulders a shake, sending earth and small stones skittering down off of his flanks in a miniature avalanche. Tavi saw Bittan blanch and take a small step back. “You’re digging yourself deeper into your own grave.”
“Trying to take my land,” Kord spat, “from me and my family. What gives you the right?”
Bernard let out his breath in a sigh, glancing upward for a moment. “Don’t play righteous with me, slaver. The storm’s almost here, Kord. Last chance. If you back down, right now, you get to live to face Gram’s justice instead of mine.”
Kord’s eyes flashed. “I’m a Citizen, Bernard. You can’t just kill a Citizen.”
“That’s on your lands,” Bernard said. “We’re on mine.”
Kord’s face went white. “You self-righteous bastard,” he hissed. He threw his hands forward and screamed, “I’ll feed you to the crows!”
The stone beast before him lurched forward across the stony ground, lizard-quick. Even as it did, something lashed out from Aric, the blurred shape vaguely reminiscent of a bird of prey as it sped toward Bernard. Bittan hurled his fire-pot down into the nearest brush, and even damp, the wood went up in a sudden blaze, the flame-serpent within it swelling to twenty times its previous size in the space of a long breath.
Bernard moved quickly. He threw his hand toward Aric’s attacking fury, scattering a fistful of salt crystals through the air. A whistling shriek went up from the air before him, even as Brutus lunged forward, clashing against Kord’s fury with a shockingly loud crunch of impact. Both furies blended into a mound of stone that sank into the earth, where the surface of the ground twitched and bulged, where the Steadholders’ furies battled out of sight beneath it.
Kord let out a bellow and came for Bernard. Tavi’s uncle hefted his axe and swiped it at the other Steadholder. Kord threw himself back and to one side, and Bernard followed him, lifting the axe for another strike.
Tavi saw Aric draw a knife from his belt and head for Bernard’s back. “Uncle!” he shouted. “Behind you!”
And then a column of wind so furious and strong that it almost seemed a solid mass hammered down into Aric’s back, throwing him hard against the earth. The young man let out a choked cry and began to rise, but from the dark sky above, Amara dropped onto his back, her stolen clothes flapping wildly in the sudden wind. Aric had time to let out a strangled shout, and the winds gathered around the pair of them in a sudden shriek of sound. Tavi saw Amara’s arm lock beneath Aric’s chin, and then the pair of them were rolling around on the ground, Aric struggling to dislodge the girl from his back.
Tavi turned in time to see Kord strike his uncle’s arm, knocking the axe from his hand. The weapon tumbled end over end and vanished into the water of the river. Bernard didn’t waste a moment, but threw his balled fist into Kord’s ribs, a blow that lifted the other man from the ground and sent him tumbling. Bernard pursued him, but Kord rose up again with fury-born fortitude, and the two met in a close grapple, the earth quivering and shaking beneath them.
Light and heat fell on Tavi from one side, and he turned to see Bittan standing before a blazing column of brush. “Well, well,” Bittan glowered. “Looks like that leaves me to take care of you.” Bittan raised his arms with an ecstatic cry, and brought them down again. The flames leapt up into a pillar that fell, swift and bright and horrible, toward Tavi and Fade.
Tavi let out a yelp and dragged the slave to one side with him. Flame washed against the earth like water, sparks and smoke billowing out from it, heat rushing through the night. Tavi smelled burnt hair, and, regaining his feet, tugged Fade with him toward the water of the river. “Fade,” he gasped. “Fade, come on. Come on.”
Bittan’s laughter rang out harsh in the ruddy light. The fallen column of fire danced and writhed over the ground like an enormous serpent, snaking its way between Tavi and the dubious shelter of the river’s chilly waters. The fire leapt from bush to bush and tree to tree behind Bittan, growing, its crackling growl increasing to a sullen roar.
“Bittan!” Tavi shouted. “It’s getting away from you! You’ll kill us all!”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to lecture me on furycrafting, freak!” Bittan called. He turned to the burning brush beside him, scooped up a handful of blazing material, and hurled it at Tavi. Tavi threw up his cloak against it, softening the impact of the burning brush, but little licks of fire clung to the cloth. He beat at them frantically.
“I just can’t decide,” Bittan yelled, his voice jeering. “Whether you should smother or burn!”
Fade, the unmarred side of his face swollen and already purple with bruising, finally began to support most of his own weight, blinking his eyes around him in confusion. He pawed at Tavi’s cloak, making little mewling sounds, his eyes sweeping around them, around the flames.
“I have an idea,” Bittan said. “How about I fry the simpleton first! Then I can move on to you, freak.” He gestured with a hand, and from within the flames, that same serpent-shape coalesced. It writhed for a moment, curling — and then shot toward Fade’s chest like a streak of sunlight.
Fade let out a yelp and, with more speed than Tavi would have credited to the slave, he leapt aside, blundering into Tavi. The slave’s momentum carried them both toward the fiery barrier between them and the water, tumbling over one another. Fade’s back rolled against the ground as they went through the fire, and the slave let out a shriek of pain, clutching tightly to Tavi. The boy struggled to free himself, they both toppled into the Rillwater.