The Callindra Chronicles Book 3: A Fall of Stars – Chapter 77

“Where are my other retainers?”  She demanded, eyes sweeping the room.  “My reeve needs immediate attention, and I find myself reluctant to trust any help that might be provided here.”

The room remained silent; everyone still staring at her in shocked silence.  “God’s balls!”  She cursed, thrusting her hand into her bag to withdraw the hilt and first inch of Shadowsliver’s blade.  An effort of will brought the Winds to do her bidding, and she sent them to bring her words to her companions.

A blast of wind flew out from her in every direction, resolving into a half dozen little zephyrs that each carried her words with them as they flew.  They also blew every plate of food and glasses of wine and spirits off every table, tore hair free of pins and combs, unbuttoned shirts and coats, and plastered skirts against legs.

Half the people in the room ran for the exits in a panic at the sight of the blood or because of the overt use of magic.  The other half were cursing and wiping at their clothes, pulling concealed daggers and glaring at Callindra.

“Don’t.”  She said, helping Reed to sit before turning to face the room.  “Enough blood has been shed tonight; there is no need to add yours unless you have a burning desire to die.”

“You think there’s a chance you could stand against us.”  A man in a black silk tunic splattered with wine sneered.

“Without a doubt.”  She said calmly, drawing Shadowsliver fully from her bag.  “I have no desire to kill any of you.  Yet.  I suggest you keep it that way.”

The others looked less confident now that she was holding her sword.  Before any of them decided to attack or retreat, a rush of wind came back through one of the doors bearing Kain’s voice to her ears.

“I am coming.”

She glanced at Reed and saw that although his eyes were closed, blood still flowed from between the fingers he still had clamped over his neck.  Thank the gods; he was still alive.

“Just put the sword down.”  A young woman said, a ring on her left hand glittering briefly.  “We’re all friends here.”

Callindra blinked, wondering why she was threatening these people.  They clearly meant her no harm, and she had recklessly blasted them with magic.  Her good friends began to come closer, but she had a nagging feeling that something was wrong.  They weren’t smiling, why weren’t her friends smiling?

Shadowsliver’s tips sang with a discordant complaint as her left arm relaxed enough for him to touch the stone floor, and the spell shattered.  Five enemies were arrayed in a semicircle, all holding daggers.  The woman who had charmed her was gathering Weave into a handful of bright white darts that hovered over her right hand.  None of them seemed to have noticed that she’d broken free.

The first of them came within reach of Shadowsliver’s chain, and she flung her sword like a spear, stabbing him in the chest.  She quickly ripped her blade back to her hand with a sharp yank on his chain, leaving a ragged wound behind.  The man cursed and dropped his knife to staunch the bleeding.

“Well, now I’m afraid you’ve given me a reason to show you the color of your blood.”  She said calmly, whipping her sword to one side to flick the blood off the blade.  If she used magic in this close of quarters, the odds were she would hit bystanders, so she settled for intimidation.  “How much of it do you want to see today?”

The mage released the bolts she’d summoned, and they flew in a series of zigzagging lines, skirting around tables and people to slam into Callindra, knocking her back into the wall.  With coordinated precision, her other four assailants lunged forward with blades out.  She staggered, trying to draw a breath and twisted to avoid one dagger, parried another, and took one in the arm and one in the side.

With a snarl of defiance, she cut left and right, felling two more of them and ducking a thrust but taking a slash across her thigh.  The mage began chanting, and something began to form between her hands.  Desperately, Callindra tried to run toward the woman, but her skirts wouldn’t allow her to, and she nearly tripped on them.

She hurled her sword at the mage, but she smoothly stepped back out of range and parted her hands.  A dark green sphere rotated into existence, and a black arm with emerald green veins reached through.  The remaining bystanders in the room ran at the sight of the monster crawling from the Abyss.

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