Page 25 of Ship of Smoke and Steel

Rot. Oh, Blessed’s rotting balls. What am I doing?

This is what I’m doing:

Running forward. Seeing the big claw coming, ducking underneath it, feeling the wind of its passage on my back. Swinging my Melos blade at the closest tentacle, which Meroe has pinned. Feeling the flesh part—no armor here—and seeing green energy crackle. Watching Meroe scramble free as I sever another tentacle, feeling a third slam against my belly and bounce off in a spray of Melos power, the lines of energy hot underneath my skin.

Seeing, too late, the second claw closing around my waist, catching me in its grip. I think Meroe screams my name.

The crab lifts me off the ground, my feet kicking, and it squeezes me like a nutcracker. My armor flares in response, two shimmering discs of Melos energy, keeping the two halves of the crab’s claw from coming together and crushing my midsection. The lines of energy under my skin, where power from the Well runs, grow first warm, then hot, then unbearable, as though wire still glowing from the forge had been wrapped around me. I slam my blade against the claw, again and again, leaving a crisscross of smoking marks.

Something hits the crab from behind, bright and too fast to see. A bolt of flame, and then another, impacting against its shell with explosive force. I can see Ahdron, his hands ablaze with orange-red Myrkai power. A third firebolt catches the crab on one of its squishy feet, and it stumbles for a moment, off balance.

The pressure on my waist lessens, going from unimaginable pain to mere agony. The crab turns on its noiseless feet to go after Ahdron. It’s shockingly fast, as fast as a galloping horse. Ahdron throws another bolt of fire at its maw, but his aim is off and the flames explode along its shell. They burn for a moment, then wink out, leaving scorches but no damage. Ahdron backpedals rapidly as the crab’s other claw reaches out for him.

I’ve had a second to catch my breath and think. I’ve never had a proper instructor for magic, obviously. In the Legions, they have drills and techniques, perfected over hundreds of years. All I’ve ever had to work with are my instincts. The power has always just been there, like a trusty knife in a secret sheath, and it never seemed wise to question it too closely.

But now I need something different. Not a long blade for parrying, but something hard and sharp that will punch through this rotting armor. I exert my will, pushing the power down my arm, fumbling and uncertain. It feels like trying to think about something your body knows how to do automatically, like tying a knot, awkward at every step. But something shifts, and heat rises as green lightning crackles across my skin.

I let one blade vanish. The other changes, getting shorter and thicker. It looks less like a sword and more like a spike, and I can feel the potential inside it, like a coiled spring. I jam the energy blade as hard as I can into the crab’s claw, aiming for the joint between armor plates.

There’s a crack, like a lightning bolt, and a sharp metallic smell in the air. The blade goes in, armor plate snapping, the fracture spreading sideways. As it breaks through, I release the energy, and I feel power pulse through me and explode into the crab. There’s a sudden stench, like charred fish, and the claw holding me spasms and lets go.

I hit the fungus-covered ground, feeling a wash of blessed chill as my armor vanishes. For a moment I lie still, breathing hard, but the crab is still moving. Another bolt from Ahdron hits it, and it charges toward him, legs churning as it passes over me. I roll onto my back after it goes past, in time to see him dodge another claw swipe. One of its tentacles licks out, slashing open his arm in a spray of blood. Ahdron desperately blasts the crab with a wave of fire, which forces it back a step.

I get to my feet and sprint after it. A running jump gets me high enough to grab the spiny protrusions on its back, prickles of heat flaring across my body as the armor keeps me from getting skewered. I pull myself up, hand over hand, until my dangling feet get purchase. I summon the spike again and bring it down as hard as I can. I can feel it break through, and the crab twitches as I release another wave of energy inside it. But it doesn’t stop. Ahdron is down, on his back, a claw missing him by inches. I can’t see Meroe. I’m hurting the crab, but it’s like trying to kill an ox with a needle. I stab it again, pain flaring across my body with the ripple of heat. Rot rot rot!

“The brain!” It takes me a moment to recognize the source of the shout. It’s Berun, on another walkway nearby, watching the fight across the gap. “Get the brain! Just above the mouth!”

Another wave of fire from Ahdron. The crab rears up, nearly tipping me off, then comes back down on top of him, sword-tentacles lashing. I pull myself forward, armor flaring, the spikes of the monster’s back tearing my clothes. Now I’m almost upside-down, looking at where the eyes would be if the thing had eyes. I raise my energy blade, suck in a deep breath, and let the power build until I can’t take the heat anymore.

Then I bring it down. The spike breaks through the armor with a crunch and a crackle of energy, and I hit the crab with everything I have, one rush of power that burns so hot it makes me scream. All eight of the crab’s limbs flail as the Melos energy courses through it. It tips sideways, spilling me off to lie panting and helpless on the walkway while it twitches. And then, finally, mercifully, it dies.

8

I remember the return trip in bits and pieces. I think I walk part of the way, but at least once I wake up and find myself on Meroe’s back, my arms dangling around her neck. Her hands are swathed in rough bandages, and she’s breathing hard, struggling with my weight. I see Ahdron ahead of us, cradling his arm, his shirt awash in blood.

Before we reach the door to the Stern, I pass out for good, because the next thing I know I’m waking up in a bed, in a place I’ve never seen before. I lie still, and look around as best I can.

It’s a strange bed, nearly as high off the ground as a table and much too soft. I sink into it with a feeling unpleasantly like drowning. I vaguely recognize this as the Jyashtani style, though why they can’t have a proper sleeping mat on the floor like normal people I can’t guess. There’s a light sheet pulled over me—silk, I note absently—and beneath it my clothes are gone, replaced by a kind of half-length robe. More foreign clothing.

My body hurts, especially my right arm. I’ve pushed my power too far before, and I recognize the sensation, the aftermath we call powerburn. The initial agony has faded into an itchy numbness on my skin, with deep aches stabbing down to the bone. When I breathe, pain pulses through my abdomen, where the crab’s claw almost crushed me.

The walls are metal, as is the floor underneath a threadbare carpet. I haven’t been magically transported off Soliton, then, more’s the pity. I take a deep breath and raise my head, stifling a groan. The room is small, not much more than the bed, with only a hanging curtain for a door.

“You’re awake,” Meroe says.

She’s sitting in the corner of the room on a metal stool. The bandage I put on her face is gone, and the wound the Butcher’s blow left there is covered by an ugly scab. There are circles under her eyes, almost black against her dark skin. She’s replaced the clothes she came aboard in with an ill-fitting green dress, sleeves rolled up to keep from flapping over her hands. Her palms are wound round with linen bandages.

“I’d rather not be,” I say honestly.

“I can understand that.”

She gets up and offers me a canteen. I take it, nearly fumbling the thing as pain spikes from my right hand. That was where I’d concentrated my power to kill the crab, and every movement aches atrociously.

“How are you feeling?” Meroe says, watching with concern.

“Alive.” I force myself to lift the canteen and drink. “Where are we?”

“A hospital run by someone named Sister Cadua. She has a lot of experience with powerburn, they say.”