Renegade’s Magic. Робин Хобб

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him in mid-lunge. It startled him, and worse, it burned more of his small reserve of magic. I’d actually used his magic against him, to prevent him injuring Epiny. I was as surprised as he was.

      And Epiny, despite her ungainly pregnancy, ducked down abruptly and then lunged towards the hatchet that Olikea had dropped. She hit the ground harder than she had planned; I heard her grunt of pain. But she came up gripping the hatchet, her teeth bared in triumph. ‘Let’s see what happens when you get hit with cold iron!’ she threatened him, and she threw it, as hard as she could, at Soldier’s Boy’s head. It made a nasty solid noise as the butt of it hit his forehead. He dropped. I do not know if it was the force of the impact or the iron hitting his body, but he shuddered, twitched, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Likari’s mouth hung open in an ‘O’ of shock. Olikea screamed like a scalded cat and rushed Epiny.

      And I watched, helpless. Not only was I disembodied, but the only body I could have hoped to affect was unconscious. Olikea was taller than Epiny, heavier, accustomed to more physical activity and unencumbered by clothes or pregnancy. She flung herself on Epiny as a cat leaps on prey. Epiny dodged to one side but still went down beneath her onslaught. Both women were shrieking, the most unhallowed sound that I had ever heard. Epiny used language I would not have suspected her of knowing, and fought with a strength and ferocity that astounded me. She fought to defend her unborn child as much as herself. Olikea was on top but Epiny writhed in her grip to face her and drew first blood, raking her nails down Olikea’s face and breast. For all that Epiny’s clothing encumbered her, it also protected her from casual damage, and when Epiny rolled to one side, drew her leg up and then managed to kick Olikea in the belly, her boots became a definite advantage.

      As Olikea gasped, Epiny crawled frantically away. I thought she was trying to escape, but as Olikea recovered and went after Epiny, my cousin once more snatched up the fallen hatchet. Olikea, thinking herself threatened, grabbed the flint knife that still rested in Soldier’s Boy’s slack hand. But Epiny did not come at her; instead, she pressed the blade of her weapon to Soldier’s Boy’s throat. ‘Back off!’ she snarled. ‘Back off, or neither of us gets him. He’ll be dead.’ They did not share a language, but the threat was as obvious as the blade held to his throat.

      In that moment, I suddenly realized that it was me they were fighting over. I was astounded.

      Olikea froze. Epiny remained as she was, crouching over Soldier’s Boy, the cold iron of the hatchet not quite touching his throat. She looked feral and predatory, hunkered over my body. Then she caught her breath, gave a small grunt of pain and put her hand on her belly and rubbed it softly, almost reassuringly.

      ‘You won’t kill him,’ Olikea asserted after a moment. ‘He is your cousin.’

      Epiny stared at her, and then looked at me. I translated for her. ‘She says you won’t kill me because I’m your cousin.’

      ‘No,’ Epiny retorted bluntly. ‘Right now, he isn’t. My cousin is over there.’ With her empty hand, she pointed to my disembodied essence hovering near Lisana. ‘This, this creature in his body is something that Tree Woman and the magic made. It might have been part of my cousin once, but she twisted it into something completely foreign to what Nevare is. And rather than see that creature masquerading as Nevare, I will kill him. Without compunction. I will not let this beast pretend he is Nevare Burvelle.’

      I watched Olikea listen to the flood of foreign words. None of them were needed; she knew all she needed to know by the blade that hovered over my throat.

      Lisana spoke. ‘Soldier’s Boy is as much your cousin is Nevare Burvelle is. When he came to me, sent by that old Kidona to be his warrior champion, I captured him and divided his soul. Deny it as you wish, but Soldier’s Boy is not a separate creature from your cousin. Both parts of him are needed to be a whole. You cannot cast him out of the body. Kill him, and you kill your cousin, the Nevare you know, just as surely. Have you the will to kill Nevare to keep Soldier’s Boy from using the body?’

      Olikea could not hear Lisana’s words. She had risen and was slowly circling Epiny, her knife low and ready. ‘Now, what will you do, you skinny Gernian wretch? Kill him and I’ll kill you. I’m bigger than you, and stronger. You know I’ll win. How long can you crouch over him, threatening him? What will you do when he wakes up?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Epiny replied, but she answered Lisana, not Olikea. ‘It seems we are at an impasse.’ After a moment, she added, ‘If my cousin Nevare is never to regain his body and his life, and I am to be attacked and killed anyway, then neither of us have anything to lose if I kill him now. Do you agree with that?’

      I was silent, considering the question. I didn’t know what would become of me if Epiny killed my body. Did I care? Just the fact that I had no immediate answer to that question made me mute. For most of my life, I’d had goals that had driven me. What did I have now? Perhaps, like Epiny, I’d reached a dead end. Briefly, my cousin’s gaze met mine. I saw love in her eyes, but also resolution and resignation.

      It did not look good for my body. Slowly, I nodded at her. She shifted her gaze to Lisana. ‘You see?’

      Lisana was quiet for a time. Then she asked abruptly, ‘What do you want, Gernian? What will it take to make you leave this place and never return?’

      Epiny was silent for a moment. I could see her hand trembling. I think the hatchet was getting heavy in her grip. ‘I assume you mean without killing him,’ she said after a pause.

      ‘Yes.’ Lisana bit off the word.

      ‘Talk to ME!’ Olikea abruptly demanded. ‘I am the one who is here. I am the one who can kill you!’ She made a menacing motion with her knife.

      ‘Shut up!’ Epiny barked at her, and touched the hatchet blade to Soldier’s Boy’s throat. He made a small sound in his throat. Olikea took a step back, glowering at her.

      ‘She’s dangerous, Epiny. Be very careful. She’ll kill you if she can.’

      ‘I know that,’ Epiny said hoarsely. ‘I may have to kill your body.’ Tears filled her eyes and spilled but only anger showed on her face. ‘How can it be any worse, Nevare? Shall I go down whimpering and begging for mercy? I doubt any would be shown. If I must lose it all, then at least I’ll extract a price from them. They’ll know I was here; I won’t be stepped on like an ant.’

      The desperate courage in her words moved me. ‘You should have been your father’s soldier son,’ I told her quietly.

      ‘He’s waking up!’ Likari cried aloud. I’d almost forgotten the boy was there. He’d hovered at the outskirts, watching everything but saying and doing little. Now he pointed at my body. My eyelids fluttered and Soldier’s Boy’s hands twitched against the mossy ground.

      Epiny might not have understood Likari’s words, but the tone alerted her. She lowered the hatchet until its blade rested against Soldier’s Boy’s throat. He made an incoherent sound. I did not know if he protested the bite of the sharp edge or the burn of cold iron against his throat. Epiny leaned forward over him, so close that all he could see was her face. I watched his eyes blink bewilderedly and then focus on her. She spoke in a low growl.

      ‘Don’t move. Listen to me. Tell that woman with the knife and the boy with the waterskin to go away. Tell them that you don’t want them to hurt me. Send them down to wait by the stream. Tell them to stay there until you come to them. Say only those words. I will know what you say. If you say any more than that, or any less than that, I’ll kill you. Do you understand me?’

      He licked his

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