Atlas Never Shrugged Page 4

Keep him off balance long enough, and it would boil down to a test of endurance between Rel’s muscles and Keshnu’s mind. It was the best chance the First Realm was going to get.

  Somewhere at the edge of his vision, Rel could make out the hint of motion as Pevan disposed of the other Wildren. That was a weight off his mind. Hopefully she’d have the sense to come back and cover him in case more arrived. Keshnu still hadn’t moved, hadn’t given any indication at all that he was aware Rel was there. It went beyond arrogance. Whatever he was doing, the Gift-Giver was completely absorbed in it.

  That meant Rel could take his time preparing his stance. Underfoot, the concrete trembled constantly, but Rel bent his knees slightly and ignored it. He placed his ankle just behind where Keshnu’s would be in a second – it was there now, but to think of it that way brought Rel’s thoughts too close to himself, his throat and eyes tightening as he teetered on the edge of locking up.

  The shaking of the floor made it slippery, he saw as his foot bounced, came down not quite where he’d planted it. He shifted his weight, leaning closer to where Keshnu would be. It was a compromise, and he wouldn’t be able to shove as hard, but if his foot slipped he might not manage to topple the Gift-Giver at all.

  No time for a deep breath to settle his nerves, in case Keshnu chose that moment to emerge from his trance. Rel looked past where he hoped the Wilder would end up, and threw his body into the shove. He twisted, keeping his weight firmly on his front foot, and felt the Gift-Giver’s leg catch on his own. The plain wool of the Wilder’s robe tickled under Rel’s hand.

  Realmspace rippled with Keshnu’s shocked curse, and the web of snaggles in the air that marked his boundary toppled. Rel stepped back, carefully measuring the distance, and lashed out with his foot. His ankle protested as the kick fell short; Keshnu was already moving. He needed more future.

  Pressure settled in just behind Rel’s nose and the knife-sharp edge of clarity came off his perception of the swirling breezes as he pushed out another half second in all directions. That was going to hurt his stamina something fierce, but Keshnu was already half-way to upright. The air around Rel came alive with dense patches . Incoming blows. Keshnu trying to finish him off without resorting to drastic measures. Mockery, given how far in breach of the treaties the Wilder already was.

  Rel advanced, twisting at the hips and ducking his head to thread his way between the blows – some, he could see, were fainter than others, less probable outcomes. A few winked out altogether as he weaved out of their reach. He lunged, fist outstretched, and caught Keshnu in something hard. Breastbone, probably, from the height.

  Not as hard as he’d hoped, though. The Gift-Giver was reading his attacks well. Rel reminded himself that Keshnu’s invisibility didn’t mean the Wilder couldn’t see him. Simple moves weren’t going to cut it. Keshnu kept the air busy with his whirlwind of attacks, leaving no clear angle to his body. Rel ducked as the air ahead of him blurred opaque.

  With any other Wilder, he could have grabbed Keshnu’s arm as, a second and a half later, it passed over his head. But if he tried to hold the Gift-Giver, it would probably cost him his Clearsight, and a moment later, his life. The Abyss was still right there. Instead, he punched upward, fist square atop his wrist.

  Contact across his knuckles stung hard enough to make him hiss, and he squinted to keep his watering eyes from clouding his vision. Either he’d caught Keshnu’s narrow arm bone-to-bone, or the Gift-Giver had done something to harden his skin. Still, the cloud of incoming punches thinned. Rel dropped his shoulders, threw his weight forward, and brought his knee up.

  This time, he hit something soft, but his eyes were already on Keshnu’s elastic recovery. The Gift-Giver must have flipped or rolled with the knee, to come back at Rel so quickly-

  The ground flickered out of position, so quickly even Rel’s enhanced sight almost missed it. The quake, still on-going, which meant either Rel wasn’t doing enough to distract Keshnu, or Pevan wasn’t covering him and some other Wilder – probably Taslin – had taken up the slack. He couldn’t deal with that right now. Off-balance, trying to ride his lunge on past Keshnu, it was all Rel could do to keep his knees off the concrete when the tremor hit.

  He turned his shoulder down as both feet lifted off the floor, turned the wild stagger into a roll. It put him too far from Keshnu for comfort, but the alternative was to be right next to him and face-down, flat-out on the floor. Rel squinted tight to avoid blinking as his weight pushed his chin into his chest.

  Then he was over, rising, turning with the last of his momentum, scanning for the next blow. Something splashed at him, and he flinched hard to the side, only to catch himself as the spray of water hit. Nothing to do with Keshnu, just some new leak in the top of the Abyss. The cascade poured down mere inches from the ledge, misting the air with spray that cast rainbows from the torchlight.

  Perfect. Water made a denser medium than air, much easier to track. The mist rippled as Keshnu spun through it to attack, a second and a half ahead of time. Rel side-stepped, threw his arm out at the Gift-Giver’s flank as it passed. The blow sent a sharp jab of pain through his fingers and wrist, but the whole pattern of Keshnu’s next moves changed – he’d been thrown badly off-balance.

  Rel glanced across the ledge as he turned, but there was no sign of anyone. The other Wildren had to be keeping Pevan pretty busy. He finished his spin and stepped to the side of Keshnu’s next lunge. Fast as the Gift-Giver was, no speed could catch up to Clearsight. And the Gift-Giver’s form was sloppy, as if he understood the concept of combat but had never practiced it. Well, he’d probably never needed to.

  Eyes narrowed, a fierce grin on his face, Rel watched the spray of water where Keshnu would reel backward. He stepped forward to press the attack before the Wilder could regain his balance. The fight was just a formality now.

  5. You Held the World in Your Arms

  Gasping for breath, Dora ran down the tunnel to the Abyss, heedless of the bucking floor that threatened to turn her ankle with every step. Ahead, she could hear only the roar of falling water. She’d been in the old city searching for Rel when the quake hit, had seen with disbelieving eyes the northern horizon leap upward. Keshnu had said his fix was only temporary, but for it to have come undone so quickly... What had Rel and Van Raighan done?

  The ground pitched again, violently, as she reached the end of the tunnel, and she staggered, leaning forward to manage her balance. Her foot tingled as it slipped on the concrete, while the lip of the ledge – the edge of the world – swung across her field of vision. For a moment, fear ran chill claws through her, the thought of the Realmlessness below irresistible, but she caught her slide and her concentration steadied with it.

  Rel and Keshnu were a blur of motion right on the edge of the precipice. Well, Keshnu was a blur. Aura blazing like low sun reflected on the sea, Rel’s movements seemed languid by comparison, a slow dance that wove him between the Gift-Giver’s desperate attacks. The only thing aggressive about Rel’s movement was the way his fist, and then his hard-toed boot, snapped up at Keshnu’s torso.

  Keshnu staggered back, lunged again. Rel just stepped to one side. It was only as the Clearseer ducked a high punch Keshnu was nowhere near throwing that Dora realised he was using his Gift. But Clearsight wasn’t supposed to work on Gift-Givers. Had Van Raighan or the Separatists enhanced Rel’s Gift somehow?

  It didn’t matter much right now. If Rel was using his Gift, she wasn’t going to get near him to stop him. She dug her fingernails into her palms in frustration, her skin gritty where she’d fallen however-many times during her frantic race through the caves. The air seemed hard with the sound of the waterfall, and Dora could tell just by looking at it that it was already far worse than it had been during the last quake. Why had Keshnu’s work come undone so quickly?

  Her head swam for a moment, the scent of bile rising up the back of her throat, as space twisted with a Gateway forming nearby. She managed to fight down the nausea with a swallow a
nd a grunt, digging her fingers into her abdomen. At least that was an improvement. The Gate would do nothing to help the stresses on the Abyss, though.

  It opened in the middle of the ledge, First Realmspace pulling into tight pleats around its perimeter. Pevan gave no warning shout before emerging, head-first. She landed in a ready stance, feet wide, knees bent, her neck seeming twice as long as normal as she looked around. Everything about her screamed readiness for a fight, but with who? It was a moment before she turned around and spotted Dora.

  Pevan’s aura flared, the Gate behind her snapping shut. Dora’s gut roiled, but she took the warning and leapt sideways. The concrete where she’d been standing vanished beneath an image of the sky, somewhere near the fault. Dora could tell, because looking at the twisted shapes of the clouds made her eyes water.

  She jumped back as Pevan cursed, and this time the sensation of the Gate closing and another opening was like an uppercut to the bottom of her ribcage. Her eyes bulged and welled over, and she made a noise that was half-gasp, half-choke. She had to keep moving. Somehow, as her feet hit the floor, she managed to change direction, heading for Pevan.

  Heading for Pevan’s ankles. She couldn’t get her arms