Lesson of the Fire by Eric Zawadzki

around the green with
the broken nose. She abruptly stood up and turned to him with a
smile, the injury healed except for the blood on her cloak.
    That’s it, Erbark thought. Wear
yourself out healing yourself instead of attacking me.
    He drew a javelin from the sheaf on his back
and slammed it into her thigh in a single smooth motion. She howled
in pain and fell to the ground as her bone shattered.
    The auburn and the other two greens
surrounded him, and blows fell like rain. The javelins flew from
their band on his back to well out of his reach. His belt of knives
snapped and crawled away into the swamp. Erbark tried to move
forward, but walls of Power blocked him at every turn.
    Then the injured greens recovered enough to
join in, lashing at him with whips of Power. One green’s face
scrunched up in concentration, and Erbark’s left arm snapped just
above the elbow. He fought the instinct to curl up on the ground,
knowing it wouldn’t ward off the attacks.
    Niminth, you know I
tried , Erbark prayed silently.
    He called the myst — not to soothe his
wounds or attack his enemies, he wasn’t skilled enough to do that
without torutsen, but he could insulate himself. With torutsen, he
could see what he was doing and could have countered the incoming
spells while still using other magic. Blind to the myst, he had to
grope and hope he gathered enough of the right motes. The shell of
countermagic would hold for a minute or two, and that would have to
be enough.
    As soon as the fists of Power stopped
striking him, Erbark stood up straight and turned. The greens wore
expressions ranging from surprise to confusion to unmistakable
fear. His gaze fell to the auburn, and Erbark stepped forward, the
wall of Power disintegrating at the touch of his defensive
shell.
    The auburn simply sneered. “Five on one, and
you have no magic? You can’t win this fight.”
    Erbark smiled grimly. “Try telling a damnen
that.”
    The auburn’s eyes widened slightly, and
Erbark used the distraction to close the distance and slam a knee
into the auburn’s groin. His marsord’s gouger bit tender flesh, and
any thought in the auburn’s mind turned to agony.
    Erbark didn’t give him a chance to recover.
He grasped the blood-covered hilt and drew the hacker out, pulling
the long blade against his fallen opponent’s throat. Blood sprayed,
then pumped, and finally stopped.
    Marsord dripping wizard blood, Erbark rose
and gave his attention to the greens behind him. His lips curled in
a snarl.
    “Who’s next?”
    The greens fled. With a heavy sigh, Erbark
rummaged through the dead auburn’s pockets. He regretted the
necessity, but the greens might regain their courage. Eventually,
he found the flask of torutsen and took a swallow.
    Erbark scanned the myst around him, watching
for any irregularities in the motes’ movement that might indicate a
nearby wizard readying a spell. He saw none, so he released the
countermagic shell and called new magic to heal the worst of his
injuries as he collected his scattered equipment. He got as far as
the broken ribs before the myst stopped answering his call.
    He looked at the corpse with a frown.
    “I should have tended you first, I know,” he
said softly. “But there is no dry wood out here, so hopefully your
friends will come back after I leave to do the honors.”
    He closed the dead man’s eyes and pulled the
edge of the auburn cloak over his face. Wincing at his remaining
injuries, Erbark continued along the path to Nightfire’s
Academy.
    The dux’s magocrats are getting bolder,
Sven. I hope you come home soon.
    * * *
    Erika Unschul watched the flames in the
hearth consume the wood while she waited for the soup in the pot to
boil. She could hear Asa and her friends playing “Academy” in the
nursery. Their muffled voices drifted to Erika.
    “Today,” Asa began in her high-pitched,
serious voice, “we are going to learn to use Energy.”
    Erika smiled in amusement. Her daughter
reminded her so