Diffraction

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Enemy of My Enemy

"I choose to see their departure—as well as the appearance of the Bloodsworn—as an opportunity."

Glasteel, Coreleth said in Kristophe's mind. Her sense of awe transferred through the link and pervaded his thoughts. Hard as metal, but translucent. The art of making it was lost with the fall of the Empire.

Need filled her voice in his head. You must acquire some.

Another orb exploded, and Kristophe ducked despite his magical shield. The air around him shimmered and shards of the material fell to the deck with a tinkling sound like chimes.

How special it must be, he sent back to Coreleth with all the sarcasm he could muster. I hope you won't be plucking it from my corpse.

Then don't die. Because I will if I must.

He ignored her and hurled a fireball at the nearest Bloodsworn. The man's flesh sizzled and blistered, and he screamed as he dove into the river.

Salarin gave Kristophe an approving nod, and he smiled.

One of the Bloodsworn women charged the ruined barge, leaping from the docks onto the deck of the vessel. She lunged at Salarin, lashing out with two sets of whip-like strands covered in hooks and glinting pieces of jagged metal.

Coreleth judged him through the link. Are you going to help her?

If she needs my help, she doesn't deserve it. That's the way of Strength. He bound more terros from the ground and converted it to fire for another spell. No, I'm going to impress her.

Salarin's Gracemark flared white, and she became a blur of motion. She whirled under the hook-whips with inhuman speed and slashed at the Bloodsworn so fast that Kristophe could not spot all the strikes. While the enemy's whips still stretched forward, Salarin spun around her foe, jabbing at her heels, knees, hamstrings, kidneys, spine, and shoulders.

The blur of white came to rest, and Salarin watched her enemy's reaction. The Bloodsworn woman crumpled like a sack of meat and cried out in agony.

Coreleth chuckled in Kristophe's mind. Who's impressed now?

He forced his jaw to close and asked, "What did you do?"

Salarin grinned and held up twin scalpels. "I'm a healer with years studying human anatomy. I'm also Gracemarked by the Aspect of Eternity, which grants me moments of hyperclarity and lightning fast reactions. So I know how to disable an opponent when needed." The scalpels vanished into her sleeves like a showman's trick.

The Bloodsworn woman's anguish sounded feverish and frenzied. But most of her major muscle groups ignored her attempts to control them. She flopped about and jabbered curses at Salarin, who studied her with blatant curiosity.

A realization took Kristophe aback. "It's like she's enjoying this on some level. Like the pain spurs her on."

"I am," Salarin said. "It's fascinating, don't you think?"

"I meant the Bloodsworn."

"Right. Her too." Salarin crossed her arms and rested her chin on a hand. "What conditioning would cause a euphoric response to physical harm?"

Another Bloodsworn clambered onto the deck with a crooked sword of translucent glasteel. He grinned wide like a hungry man welcomed to a feast. Red and brown lines smeared his skin, and Kristophe noted a pattern of scars like lattice-work across the man's arms.