Spellslinger (Spellslinger #1)(89)

‘Horses are terrified of fire,’ the squirrel cat said. ‘It drives them mad.’

‘I know that. So how did—’

‘There are still one or two things that scare them worse than fire,’ Reichis said, looking down at the horse’s eyes. ‘I let him know which ones I could do to him before we burned alive.’

Ancestors save me from my new business partner. ‘All right. Stay back,’ I said.

‘What are you doing?’

Something that’s probably just going to get my hands blown off before I burn to death. I knelt down and with my right hand carefully scooped up some of the red powder from the ground. With my left I grabbed a roughly equal amount of the black.

I let the powders slip slowly away until I was left with just a pinch between the forefinger and thumb of each hand. It probably wasn’t enough to do more than burn the hells out of my fingers, but if I could make it work without killing myself then maybe I could try the spell again with more. I hope you knew what you were talking about, Osia’phest. I coughed again and realised this was probably my only chance. I’d have to aim for the point where the door met the wall. Maybe if I hit it just right, there would be enough force to make it buckle. Of course, for all I knew, Ra’meth’s mages would be waiting for us. The hells with it. Let the squirrel cat deal with that problem.

I had one shot at this. One spell that I wasn’t complete rubbish at, using breath – the one form of magic I’d sparked and the only one my father hadn’t counter-banded. If I failed this time …

‘Kellen, if you’re just going to piss about …’

I let out what breath was left in my lungs, said a brief prayer to my ancestors that, if I had to be reincarnated, I wouldn’t come back as a squirrel cat, and tossed the powders into the air in front of me. My hands formed the somatic shape for the spell: bottom two fingers of each one pressed into the palm, the sign of restraint; fore and middle fingers pointed straight out, the sign of flight; and thumbs pointing to the heavens, the sign of, well, somebody up there, help me, please.

The powders met and exploded in front of me – a split second of red and black fury that bulged out as if it were trying to reach up and grab my face. Then something – the spell, I guess – took hold of the fire and shot it straight out away from me. Please hit the edge of the door, I prayed.

Smoke and heat blew into my face and I stumbled backwards, losing my footing and experiencing a brief feeling of release – of floating – before I hit the ground. Don’t pass out, I told myself. Whatever you do, don’t …

Something cool and furry was on my left cheek. It went away only to return again a second later. The pattern continued for a few brief moments until I opened my eyes. Two beady black eyes set back from a whiskered snout looked down at me. The squirrel cat was sitting on my chest tapping my face with his paw.

‘What the hells are you doing?’ I asked.

‘I’m slapping you. I’ve seen humans do this when one goes unconscious. Is it helping?’ He pulled his paw back again. ‘Should I use my claws?’

‘Stop it,’ I said, pushing him off my chest.

I tried to rise too quickly and things started to go black again. I took in a breath close to the floor and then pushed myself up more carefully. The smoke seemed less thick. ‘Did I hit the door?’ But if I had, wouldn’t Ra’meth’s men be in here already, sticking something sharp in my belly?

‘Not even close,’ Reichis said.

‘Damn it,’ I said, getting my feet under me and doing my best to shake off the effects of the blast. ‘I can try again … I can …’

‘Don’t bother,’ Reichis said.

I followed the line of his paw towards the other side of the barn. The fire was still raging around us and I could hear wooden beams beginning to crack. The smoke cleared just enough for me to see what I’d done. I’d missed the door by a good six feet. It didn’t matter. Where the wall had been there was now a huge gaping hole; slats of charred wood blown through and supports falling over. I took one teetering step towards what was left of the wall. Two bodies lay partially buried under the debris where Ra’meth’s mages had stood guard. I didn’t bother to check whether they’d survived. I assumed you needed a torso to live.

I heard something shambling behind me and a moment later felt Reichis’s paw on my leg. ‘Kellen?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I think maybe I’ve found something about you that I like.’

I stared at the wreckage, the bits of burning wood and red-hot metal. I’d never seen destruction like that. Even the thirstfire torch had been blasted to pieces. A breeze was rushing into the now three-sided barn, feeding the flames but giving me a taste of fresh air I’d never expected to breathe again.

I knelt down and carefully picked up the pouches of black and red powder, putting one in each pocket before I went to drag Shalla and Ferius out of the barn. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I think I’ve found something about myself that I like too.’





42


The Hunting Party


It took a little while for me to get my strength back. By then Ferius was already regaining consciousness. Shalla was still out of it. I suspected it would be a while before the effects of the mine wore off.