Soldier’s Boy took it from her, then looked about helplessly, as if seeking guidance. He could not hear Lisana. He could not seek her guidance and Epiny’s fearless acceptance of her position clearly bothered him. I saw him decide there was something he didn’t know. I wondered if there were, or if Epiny was bluffing. I longed to ask her and knew I could not even look as if I wondered. I tried for a small smile to match hers. I probably failed.
Soldier’s Boy decided. He struck with the knife.
I felt his decision a split moment before he acted. Two things happened in the next instant. I stopped him. I didn’t know how I did it, but I stopped him in midlunge. It startled him, and worse, it burned more of his small reserve of magic. I’d actually used his magic against him, to prevent him injuring Epiny. I was as surprised as he was.
And Epiny, despite her ungainly pregnancy, ducked down abruptly and then lunged toward the hatchet that Olikea had dropped. She hit the ground harder than she had planned; I heard her grunt of pain. But she came up gripping the hatchet, her teeth bared in triumph. “Let’s see what happens when you get hit with cold iron!” she threatened him, and she threw it, as hard as she could, at Soldier’s Boy’s head. It made a nasty solid noise as the butt of it hit his forehead. He dropped. I do not know if it was the force of the impact or the iron hitting his body, but he shuddered, twitched, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Likari’s mouth hung open in an O of shock. Olikea screamed like a scalded cat and rushed Epiny.
And I watched, helpless. Not only was I disembodied, but the only body I could have hoped to affect was unconscious. Olikea was taller than Epiny, heavier, accustomed to more physical activity and unencumbered by clothes or pregnancy. She flung herself on Epiny as a cat leaps on prey. Epiny dodged to one side but still went down beneath her onslaught. Both women were shrieking, the most unhallowed sound that I had ever heard. Epiny used language I would not have suspected her of knowing, and fought with a strength and ferocity that astounded me. She fought to defend her unborn child as much as herself. Olikea was on top but Epiny writhed in her grip to face her and drew first blood, raking her nails down Olikea’s face and breast. For all that Epiny’s clothing encumbered her, it also protected her from casual damage, and when Epiny rolled to one side, drew her leg up and then managed to kick Olikea in the belly, her boots became a definite advantage.