Elfhome

23: SCISSOR PAPER STONE

Two spells were woefully inadequate.

Or at least, two spells that Tinker didn’t know all the parameters for. The lack of control was driving her nuts. There was no time to even guess how to increase the size of the Stone esva shield since the gunfire required her to keep it up nearly constantly. The flame strike dealt out a satisfyingly massive blow of damage, but she was in the process of burning down Ginger Wine’s entire enclave. She felt like she should be shouting “Sorry!” every time she blasted another tight knot of oni.

The enclave was a pure chaos of bodies. The oni were taking advantage of the enclave’s defenses, fortifying themselves behind stout doors and stone walls. The Stone Clan forces — alarmingly only laedin-caste — seemed unsure if they should be escorting their unarmed clansmen to safety or be attacking the oni. They careened around the enclave, randomly chasing or fleeing the oni.

“Where the hell are the Stone Clan sekasha?” Tinker carefully picked her way over smoldering rubble. There should be sliced and diced oni someplace as the sekasha kicked collective butt.

“The oni must have taken them by surprise,” Pony said. “It is the only reason the oni would still be alive.”

“They’re all dead?”

“Those you saw die, those were probably not the first to die, but the last.”

She shifted sideways hurriedly to protect a knot of Ginger Wine’s staff from machine-gun fire. “Go! Get to Poppymeadow’s.” She was too late to save the sekasha, but she could make sure everyone else got out safely.

She and her Hand pushed forward, driving the oni back and freeing the elves that had been trapped behind them. Since she was dropping her shield to cast the flame strike, her Hand scattered evenly around her so their shields would protect her from stray gunfire. It made her nervous, so she blasted away without mercy or regard to the property damage she was causing.

They reached the far corner of the enclave and discovered that the handful of oni they’d been chasing had backed into a dead end. The sekasha leapt forward, a whirlwind of blades, and moments later she was surrounded by dismembered bodies.

“They weren’t the main force,” Pony growled. “They were just a distraction. They took Jewel Tear out another way.”

Tinker felt like she was nine years old when Prince True Flame and Windwolf appeared. There she was, surrounded by the burning rubble of Ginger Wine’s enclave, with no rescued Jewel Tear to show for all the destruction.

“Beloved,” Windwolf ignored the ruin to focus on her. “Are you hurt?”

And that’s one of the reasons she loved him so much. He understood the important part of this mess. “No.” She dropped her shield, suddenly feeling bone weary, and let him wrap his arms around her. It felt wonderful to lean on his strength, knowing he would make everything right.

Obviously the prince wasn’t going to ignore the fact that she had just leveled an enclave. He was staring down at her with an odd expression. “She was maintaining a Stone Clan shield.”

As Stormsong had pointed out with her limited edition T-shirt, things wear out. Usually not so spectacularly. .

“My right hand is broken,” Tinker offered as an excuse.

Windwolf tightened his hold on her. “The Wind esva doesn’t have shields cast by the left hand.”

“It was Stone Clan esva.” True Flame’s tone demanded an answer.

Oh gods, all this burning rubble and dead bodies, and they were going to argue about that? “One of my ancestors was an elf. Apparently he was a Stone Clan domana.”

The prince glared at Windwolf. “You changed the domana of another clan?”

If Tinker hadn’t been pressed against him, she would have missed Windwolf’s anger. He stood quietly, only the tension of his body betraying him. Finally he calmly said, “Her grandfather died of old age before he was out of his doubles. If I hadn’t changed her, she would have had the lifespan of a human.”

“She was a child of another clan.” True Flame stressed the word “child.”

“She was an adult by human counting,” Wolf snapped. “Her family made no attempt to contact the Stone Clan. The ties were severed.”

“She called their Spell Stones,” True Flame said.

“You told me to protect my Hand!” Tinker cried. “Protect the ones that serve! They would have all died if I’d let them come here alone. I did what I had to do to protect them.”

Judging by the annoyance on True Flame’s face and his silence, she’d found the argument that he couldn’t reply to. It was the fundamental basis of the entire elf culture: that obedience demanded protection. Tinker would have felt triumphant over the win if she hadn’t just snapped out the first thing that came to her. How could she feel so tired after sleeping all day? Almost in answer, pain flared through her right arm. Oh, yes, the damn healing spells.

Someone started to scream nearby. The fact that the screamer was male made the sound more horrific.

“That’s Forest Moss,” True Flame said.

They found the one-eyed domana crouched in the blood of one of Jewel Tear’s sekasha. Forest Moss was holding out his bloody hands and screaming. The female sekasha had been shot in the face at close range. In Tinker’s dream, she had been Stormsong. Tiger Eye was in his bed just beyond the female’s body, his spine cut. Judging by the blood splatter, he’d been paralyzed by the blow, helpless as his lifeblood pumped out.

Tinker completely understood the need to scream. She turned to hug Pony close. “In my dream, it was you and Stormsong.”

“You are hurt and tired,” Pony murmured only loud enough for her to hear. “Let me take you back home.”

It didn’t seem right to leave the mess for Windwolf to clean up, but she could feel the healing spell taking its toll. In a matter of minutes, she’d be asleep, regardless of her standing upright or lying down. Besides, what was the point of her staying? She’d already leveled the place and failed to stop the oni.