NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: Adventures of the Creeping Bam (BOOK 2: One Cold Trail)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: ART

Fuck, this shit's going south fast. I don't even bother to stand as I just throw myself forward, diving headfirst through the gap between the closest balustrades. I twist in the air as I start to drop, and I roll forward as my feet hit the ground, taking the jolt out of the landing before the momentum can snap my ankles. I'm already drawing my new sword as I start to come up on the other side of it, and I start dashing forward immediately, slipping the corresponding long knife out as I close the distance on one of the newest arrivals.

Through the corner of my eyes and the edges of my awareness I take in what's going on around me – Kesla's still battling away with that creepy pale bitch, the one I imagine to be Vandryss, the one we been seeking. She's good, clearly, Kesla's keeping up with her but I can see she's using every trick she can think of to keep from getting overwhelmed. Seeing that's almost enough to make me break off my intended attack and rush to her aid, but I know if I do there's a danger we could be overwhelmed by this sudden influx of new enemies.

Gael's jumped into the fray, I see, setting about with her staff, and I just catch sight of her whipping the feet out from under one of 'em as I go in for my own attack. Motion on the other side causes me inward alarm, but I realise it's Dumoli joining the fight, swinging his massive hammer while charging in with a great bellow. Thel's close on his heels, her battleaxe clutched low but ready as she runs, and there's a look of pure murder in her eyes.

My intended target registers what's coming in the final moments and they turn to intercept me, their shortsword already out as they're trying to palm a handaxe free from their belt. They give up as I close in and take a stab at me instead, but I duck aside and swing my knife at the same moment to turn their sword aside, and they're still trying to recover, eyes going wide, when I ram three quarters of Shay's former longsword through their chest. I extend as far as I can on the lunge and they buckle with it, so when I whip it back quick to withdraw the blade again they're already falling.

Ain't the first time I used my new sword in anger, it already served me well yesterday in the Round, but I'm only now starting to really appreciate this weapon's superior killing power compared to my old one, before it was broken. It's got four inches more reach than that blade, and while it's also heavier it's not much more of a handful, I've taken great care to adjust to it in the weeks since Shay gave it to me to replace my old one. It's still a light, slender blade, ideal for swift cut-and-thrust such as I been trained for, and it hasn't taken me long to perfect its use. In a way it's actually better than my old sword ...

As they crumple I round on my next opponent, who I realise has already sensed the threat and they're pre-emptively coming at me. I jump aside so the downward swing of their handaxe misses me by bare inches, and as I spin past them I sweep my sword across, aiming for their neck. They dodge in time and my blade whips harmlessly over their head, but their movement is desperate enough they don't have a chance to attack me before I finish my recovery. Instead they jump back two big steps and hunker low, their shortsword held out in front of them to dissuade me from making another attack too soon. A cannier fighter than the last then.

Taking a breath, I look 'em over, keeping my blades held out at my sides as I weigh the options. I get the feeling they're doing the same, dark eyes studying me the best they can in the dim light. They're about of a size with me, lean and wiry, and I suspect they're good and flexible too, but they're human ... might be enough, that. I cock my head as I look out from under my hood, and while they follow the motion they don't quite meet my eyes. They can't see me any better than Kesla'd be able to without her fancy goggles ...

So I feint right, and they react to the movement, so I know I got 'em as I twist at the last while I whip my sword up, and splash the water that's been accumulating on my previously flat, still blade into their eyes. They hiss as they stumble back, and while they're not exactly blinded I don't need more than a split-second's distraction right now. I sweep in on their blindside as they shake their head, and by the time they've blinked their eyes clear enough they're too late realising I already got 'em because I'm ramming a full foot of steel up under their arm. They stiffen instantly, drawn up to their full height for a moment even as their legs give out and they start to topple sideways, and I'm already whipping the blade away after a little twist to open the wound a little more. Dancing away on fleet feet.