Page 67 of The Only Way Out Is Up

He shrugs, and his coat comes off his shoulders and flutters to the ground behind him. He stretches one arm, then the other, limbering up.

Ky whips her sword open, the segments flipping into place, snik snik snik. Gestian chuckles.

“Still using that silly thing? No sigwork is as good as honest metal, you know. A weapon like that will give out on you just when you need it most.”

“It was good enough for Father,” Ky says, still circling.

“And look where he ended up, eh?”

Ky snarls and darts forward. Gestian draws and strikes in the same motion, impossibly fast, and the weapons meet with a spray of sparks. In the next instant Ky is rolling across the floor. She slides to a halt not far from me, and my heart stops in my chest. Then, slowly, she pulls herself up to one knee.

“You find what you were looking for?” she says quietly.

“Yeah.” I stomp on the floor. The tile beneath me has the right marking, barely visible by the sigil’s glow—if I lever it up, there’s a sewer entrance underneath. But Gestian is stalking toward us. “We’ll need a minute to use it.”

“He’s not going to give us a minute.”

“Can you beat him?”

“On a good day? Maybe.” She raises her arm; there’s already a shallow cut there, weeping blood. “I’m not having a very good day.”

“Kycilea?” Gestian calls. “Have you changed your mind? I’d hate to have to call in my low-class associates.”

“I’ll keep him busy as long as I can,” Ky hisses. “Think of something. Preferably while I still have all my limbs.”

Then she’s gone, striding back toward the light and the smiling Gestian. I drop to my knees and empty out my pack on the filthy floor.

Item: Star’s thief body. No chance for an ambush, but maybe good for a distraction? But if Gestian disables it, Star will be left behind.

Item: a knife. Throw it at him, maybe?

Item: a few red sigil blanks, empty clay circles for emergency repairs. Worse than useless.

Item: my climbing gloves, still damaged. Not much help there.

Item: a small sack of fried mash balls. I don’t remember packing that. Somi must have slipped it in while I wasn’t looking.

So… what?

“Really?” Gestian says as Ky drops into a fighting stance across from him. “Do we need to play this out? I taught you everything you know.”

“I guess we’ll see if I was a good student,” Ky growls.

This time she waits, sword up. After a moment Gestian sighs. He comes forward so smoothly he looks like he’s gliding on air, sword whipping around so fast it leaves an arc of light behind it. Ky sways back, just out of range, then counterattacks. Gestian parries once, twice, launches a riposte she barely evades, steps up behind it and forces her back. The blades tangle again and again, gleaming like lines of blood in the dim red light.

There are sigils in Star’s inert body, sigils in the gloves. I don’t have my tools, but I can wrap wire by hand. But what does that get me? MOVE won’t help, RESIST, PERCEIVE—I know how to build runics, not weapons. If I had an EXPLODE, that would be something—

Ky gives a pained grunt and drops to one knee. Gestian slips past her, whipping blood off the tip of his blade. He could spin and take her head off from behind, but he doesn’t. Not yet.

“First rule of being a sword instructor,” he says brightly, “is that I never teach someone everything I know, in case I have to kill them someday. Wise, wouldn’t you say?” He clicks his tongue as Ky slowly regains her feet. “Oh dear. Still?”

“I’m going to kill you,” she rasps, her voice thick with pain. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Stubbornness was always your least attractive quality,” Gestian says. “Ah, well. I hope your future husband has a thing for scars.”

Fuck. I could—

I could open the way, drop down, and escape without her. What does Gestian care about me?