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Sure enough, two more steps back and the hidden door I was sure he thought I was oblivious to opened, six more men racing through. They screamed as though they were going up against an army and I turned, cape whipping around me as my knives did, the motion quick and so unexpected that the couple didn’t even have a chance to block as my blades cut them both from shoulder to shoulder. Blood sprayed alongside the water that jetted through the walls and covered the floor with another inch of icy waves as everything heaved again. This time I was ready, I moved with the Qit, running along the sudden slide in the floor and jumping into the wall as everything heaved back and I went flying right into the cluster of swords and panicked men.
Swords clashed, the sound of metal mixing with yells of determination and failure as at least one of them went down. I didn’t count, I didn’t care. I knew what happened next.
Water sprayed over everything as I skid to a stop, smiling at Yersua as the others rushed me, all of them circling around me with knives and batons and a coil of rope that twisted around my wrists.
It would have been nothing to uncoil it, to spin it around to entrap the neck of my attacker, to take my blade and slice it over two more. I could see the motions in my mind, the techniques had been drilled into me for twenty years as I trained in Dám. It would have been simple.
Instead, I let my blades hit uselessly against the swords. I let the ropes wind around my wrists as hands tugged and clawed at my shoulders and hair, forcing me to face the man who a moment ago had looked horrified, but now only looked victorious as he came around the desk to face me, ankle high water sloshing around him with each step.
The poor man, he really did think he had won. I watched his face, forcing my own into something I hoped looked like defeat, not that I had ever experienced it before.
Not as though I was experiencing it now.
I feigned a struggle against the men who now restrained me, their victorious chuckles ringing in my ears as I slowly pulled up my magic.
The burn of it started at my toes, it ran over my skin and through my bones as it filled every inch of me. I had to be so careful to let the flame rise slowly so as not attract any attention. Too fast and the water that covered the room would boil, it would steam and smoke and everyone would feel the inferno I was about to release upon all of them.
“Caspyn, Caspyn, Caspyn,” Yersua said in half a laugh as he stepped closer, the sound of my name more of a disgruntled parent on his lips. One of the men who restrained me stepped to the side, handing him a long bullwhip with jagged pieces of metal stitched on to the end.
I fought again, feigning yet another attempt to free myself from my restraints. After all, it is what one would do in this situation.
“You don’t know what you're doing.” I ground the words through clenched teeth as I once again pressed against hands and fists.
“Don’t I? I believe I do. Just as you knew what you were doing when you fileted my brother. When you removed his arms and then stood there, watching him bleed.” The words actually looked like they were hard for him to say, and for a moment I forgot the little game of cat and mouse we had been playing.
I tried to wipe the expression from my face, but too late, he saw and with a roar he smacked the whip to the side, the tips exploding against the water and sending the blood and salt mixture everywhere.
“You don’t even deny it!”
“I don’t.” Screw it. I let my smile return. I had never been great at games anyway. “But he deserved what came for him.”
Yersua roared, water splashing everywhere as he closed the last few feet between us, the whip held high over his head. Still, I let that slow boil of my magic grow.
“I will do to you what you did to him!” His fingers flexed against the handle of the whip, his blood shot eyes still screaming even as he froze, his eyes widening.
I knew exactly what he was seeing.
“First, a question,” I snarled low as I leaned in, the motion slow enough that my captors didn’t fight me. I wasn’t even playing anymore. “What color are my eyes?”
Yersua looked between them, confusion deepening as he stepped back, his grip on the whip returning.
“No games!” He was clearly ready to bring the whip down, the momentary confusion gone.
“Fine. I’ll answer for you.” I was still grinning as he yelled, swinging the whip around ready to bring it down atop me. “They’re dark blue.”
The whip didn’t even make contact before everything caught fire.
My magic exploded in long tongues of fame that raced over the surface of the water. They snaked up the walls, they twisted around the men that had been holding me. Their screams crackled alongside the flames as I stepped forward, my hands erupting with red tongues of flame as I faced Yersua. His hand still hovered above his head, even as the whip fell and splashed and burned.
Screams and flames were everywhere, everywhere but in the perfect circle around Yersua and I, the man frozen as I walked right up to him.
“Come on, Yersua. Make me pay! Make me hurt as I did to your brother after I found all those kids. After I found their bodies used, beaten, and broken.”
“Kids?” Yersua stammered, the flames moving closer as he tried to back away from my slow advance.
“The kids you stole for him. The children he sold.” His eyes widened as I hissed each word. I had known for years he had no idea what his brother had been doing. Yersua had thought he had been helping people from Urd find sanctuary. It was enough then to save his life, but he had been just as nasty since.
No more.
