Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic #12)

Not enough to stop him, she told herself, as she landed on the temple floor. I need something bigger.

A line of young men – boys, really – knelt at the front of the room, watched by a grim-faced man with a switch in one hand. He lifted his hand as soon as he saw Emily and started to chant a spell; she froze him in place, hoping the boys weren’t fanatics. She didn’t want to hurt them, even though they might not feel the same way about her. But, from the shock in their eyes, they hadn’t wanted to be there either.

“Run,” she shouted. “Now!”

The boys scattered as the presence grew stronger, faint lights flickering around the hole in the floor as Justice glided up to continue the pursuit. Emily gritted her teeth, then started to transfigure the pieces of debris to gunpowder. Justice might not be stopped by an explosion, but she hoped it would make him reconsider his options. She turned and ran, hurling a fireball behind her, as the entity hovered into view. The blast from the explosion picked her up and threw her into the wall. She barely had a moment to put up her arms and catch herself before it was too late.

She hit the ground, gasping in pain. The entire temple shook violently, pieces of debris crashing to the floor. She staggered to her feet and turned, blood trickling down her arms and legs. Justice stood in the middle of the crater, unhurt. He had his back to her, but the cobweb of magic around him was growing stronger. Two of the boys stumbled towards him, their heads bowed. Emily opened her mouth to shout a warning, but it was too late. He touched their foreheads gently, almost reverently…

…And both boys crumbled into dust.

Shit, Emily thought.

She could barely move as the entity slowly turned to face her. Its expression blurred, then coalesced into a stern face that peered down at her from an impossible height. A judge, she thought, a stern judge handing down judgements that could never be questioned. She heard a statue toppling to the ground behind her, but she couldn’t break free. Justice had her in its power. It was all she could do not to fall to her knees and beg for a forgiveness she knew wouldn’t come.

A hanging judge, she told herself. Her aches and pains faded into a dull haze as it advanced towards her. Everyone is guilty of something.

Her magic faded as the cobwebs grew stronger, brushing against her wards. She felt them, stroking her magic…she felt as though she was on the verge of some great insight, but it refused to materialize. There was something about them…

And then she heard a voice. “Emily!”

Emily’s magic sparked as something wrapped itself around her, yanking her through the air at terrifying speed. For a second, she felt utterly helpless as the cobwebs grew stronger, trying to pull her back. And then the cobwebs tore, releasing her. Magic flared around her as she flew through a hole in the wall and landed on the ground. Frieda stood over her, looking grim.

“Emily,” she said. “What happened?”

“Help me up,” Emily’s managed. Her magic felt drained. She hadn’t felt so bad since her duel with Master Grey. Her throat was so dry she was sure she could taste dust. “Hurry!”

Frieda helped her up. Emily leaned against her, peering into the darkened temple. The entity stood within the shadows, looking back at her. It had her scent, she knew; she could barely move, let alone run. Justice could finish the job at any moment, if it wished. It could kill Frieda too…

…And yet, it wasn’t moving.

It can’t leave the temple without permission, Emily guessed. Or perhaps without proper preparation.

She tore her gaze away from the entity to look up and down the street. Dead bodies lay everywhere, slaves killed by their former owners and priests torn limb from limb by their former slaves. Fires burned in the darkness, suggesting many of the original attacks had been successful. And yet, she knew she’d failed. She’d learned a great deal about Justice, but not enough to kill him.

And Janus will be up here at any moment, she thought, grimly. She would have liked to think that Janus had been squashed by falling debris, but she knew she didn’t dare count on it. He can give Justice permission to come after us.

“We need to move,” she muttered. She drew on what remained of her magic to regenerate her energy, although she knew she’d pay for it later. “That thing is going to be released soon.”

She leaned against Frieda as they stumbled down Temple Row. Someone shouted in the distance, but she couldn’t make out the words. The guards who should have been on duty were either dead or gone – she hoped, in a moment of savage fury, that they were dead. Janus and his comrades might have started out with good intentions, but they’d jumped off the slippery slope long ago.

“Hurry,” Frieda hissed. “They’re coming back.”

“Get us into the alley,” Emily ordered. It hurt to talk. She suspected she’d pushed her magic too far in the last couple of hours. “But don’t try to glamour us unless there’s no other choice.”

She could hear running footsteps as Frieda pulled them both into the alleyway. The Fists of Justice chanted prayers as they ran past the entrance, heading down to the damaged temple. Emily wondered, absently, how many of them would start to question their own doctrines before deciding the answer was probably none. The Fists of Justice would have been exposed to the entity for so long that it was unlikely any of them could even begin to question it.

Janus must have gone the same way too, she thought, as she sagged against a stone wall. It smelled of garbage and worse, but she was glad it was there. The longer he spent with his god, the more he came to believe in its divinity.

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