Only one way to get a break. Lose a match. A blow to his pride. A blow to his ego. He hesitated until he spotted Ari and Rye leave the bar through the front door. Which wouldn’t normally be a problem; however Rye carried a magical scimitar called Pemba . Ari couldn’t counter Pemba alone. So much for his pride.
Janco knew his opponent planned to unarm him with a thrust and parry combination. The guy wasn’t too bright. He had tried that move six times before and it failed each time.
Suppressing a sigh, Janco allow his opponent the upper hand. He dropped his sword in defeat, then raised his arms and said, “Congrats, you won. Guess I learned my lesson.” He swept up his sword and hopped off the bar. “Gotto go, fellows.”
Amid cries of outrage, Janco dashed out the back door. The Sandseed magician who had traveled from Sitia to reclaim the scimitar, and who had recruited Ari and Janco to help, was supposed to be guarding the entrance.
Janco skidded to a stop. Deep slices criss-crossed Stripey’s prone form, exposing muscles and bone. He bent over the Sandseed and closed the dead man’s eyes. The lifeless gaze was scary, but what truly terrified Janco was the absence of blood. Not a drop oozed from the cuts, no splashes on the Sandseed’s clothes, and no puddles on the ground. Pemba had absorbed it all.
Magic. Janco spat in disgust.
He raced around the building. A crowd surrounded Ari and Rye ’s fight, growing bigger as the bar’s patrons spilled into the street to gawk. Janco pushed through them until he reached the edge.
One glance and he knew Ari wouldn’t last long. Gashes marked Ari’s thick forearms, blood stained his tattered pants, and sweat poured off his strained face. Before joining in the fight, Janco met Captain Kenton’s gaze and nodded.
The bar had been filled with off-duty soldiers and reservists. Most were drunk, but the Captain had been informed about Rye . He and a few others had stayed sober. Since their first plan to prick Rye with a sleeping potion-laced dart failed, the Captain would be needed for plan B.
Janco stepped close to his partner and aimed a blow at Rye ’s mid-section. Pemba blurred into motion, countering the strike before Rye reacted. The scimitar controlled the man’s actions, and the insane hunger shining in Rye ’s eyes meant the weapon also controlled his mind.
Ari grunted a greeting. “What took you…so long?” His breath huffed with the effort.
“I stopped for a snack, and ordered us a couple beers,” Janco said. “We should finish him soon. I hate warm beer.”
A snort of amusement from Ari, but even Janco grew quiet as they fought Rye . The scimitar blocked every thrust, lunge and attack. Pemba ignored all feints. All the while she snaked under their defenses and sliced into their skin. Little by little the number of cuts grew while he weakened.
The addition of Captain Kenton didn’t slow Pemba down. Three more soldiers joined in. But the scimitar’s movement created a zone around Rye . As if a bubble of glass surrounded him, protecting him. There seemed no way for their weapons to reach him.
Plan B sucked. Although it kept Rye and Pemba occupied, and gave each of them a turn to take a break, eventually one of them would make a mistake and die. They would be forced to give up and…what? Janco hated to surrender.
Time for plan C. Too bad they hadn’t formulated plan C.
When Ari’s broadsword flew from his grip, Janco called for a retreat. The soldiers engaged in the fighting stepped back as one. No longer under attack, Pemba stilled.
No sweat coated Rye ’s face. He wasn’t even panting from the effort of defending against six men. Interesting.
“You can’t stop,” Rye said in a matter-of-fact tone. “A blood sacrifice must be made.”
Time to slow events down and think. Unfortunately, thinking wasn’t his strength. Janco glanced at his partner. Perhaps Ari would have an idea.
“Why do you want a sacrifice?” Ari asked.
“We need it,” Rye said.
“What for?” Janco asked. “You’re already unbeatable.”
“Valek.” The word hissed out between Rye ’s teeth.
Pain jabbed Janco where the lower half of his right ear used to be. He rubbed the scar. “Now, I’m not a genius—”
“Got that right,” Ari mumbled.
He shot his partner a nasty look. “But how can increasing your magical power help you against Valek? He’s—”
“Immune, I know. But if we’re strong enough to slow him down, all we need is one single drop of his blood and his immunity will be gone.” Rye advanced toward Janco.
Janco backed away. It galled him, but he needed to stall. “Hold on there, puppy dog. What’s your beef with Valek?”
“He put my mother and me through hell after my father disappeared. Our house was under constant surveillance, preventing my father from returning to us for four years.”
Click. An important clue fell into place and answered a question that should have been asked. How did Rye get Pemba ?
“Your father has returned. Did he bring you Pemba ?” Ari asked.
Rye pressed his lips together, refusing to answer.
Why would he give the scimitar to his son? He wouldn’t. Janco suppressed the desire to do a little dance. “His father returned, all right. But not to see his son. To retrieve Pemba .”
The puppy dog flinched for a second. Bingo. Time to add salt to the wound. “He didn’t care about you or your mother,” Janco said. “Left you without a backward glance. Probably has a new family in Sitia with lots of kids and a faithful dog.”