I am not in the mood for this.
I let the Crawler’s power quite literally crawl to the surface before grabbing hold of it. Dodging balls of fire as I go, I run up the side of the alley wall and along the building until I’m parallel with him. In one swift movement, I leap from the wall, tackling him to the ground before quickly switching powers to raise a flaming fist at his face.
“Y-you’re Prince Kai,” he stammers. “The … the future Enforcer.” Being so close, he’s finally recognized me and my ability, now clearly regretting his decision to jump the prince.
“Unfortunately for you, I am.” I cock back my blazing fist and—
A piercing pain cuts through my skull like a dull knife.
The Blazer’s power flickers out, and I’m unable to do anything but clutch my pounding head, panting from the pain. I’ve grown very familiar with torture over the years, but this is like nothing I’ve ever endured.
Through the haze of agony clouding my vision, I see a tall figure step into the alley. His hand is raised towards me, face grim, thin lips pulled downward in a scowl.
Silencer.
Impossible.
My thoughts scatter, leaving nothing but pain to ponder.
The Silencer smothers my power. Smothers me. They can do more than just strip you of your ability, making you no more than an Ordinary. He’s incapacitating me. My mind, my ability, my body.
My vision goes blurry, spots swimming before my eyes.
Fight it.
I can’t. I’m going to pass out. Die. Both. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Fight. It.
I slump to the ground, my head slamming against the stones.
If Father could see me now…
I’m fading fast. Even with all my training, I’ve never felt so weak, so powerless, so out of control. I take one last look at the man leaching me of my strength. I hadn’t realized we’d drawn a small crowd until I see faces swimming in my vision.
They have no idea who I am.
An unsuspecting audience to watch me drift into darkness.
Or worse, maybe they do know who I am. Maybe they’re celebrating at the sight of the monster finally being put down, put out of his misery.
And then something catches my eye.
I blink away the blurriness long enough to see something glint in the light behind the Silencer—the sun reflecting off a mass of silver hair.
Chapter Seven
Paedyn
Adena is going to collapse from shock. Then she’ll squeal, and I’ll cover my ears. I’ve never stolen so many coins from one person. Not that I’ve had the opportunity, seeing that most of us in Loot don’t even have more than a dozen silvers to our name, let alone casually carrying them around.
My mind is reeling as I slowly make my way down Loot, now cast in shadows as the sun sinks behind the crumbling buildings.
I shake my head in astonishment and take my time strolling through the market, allowing myself to admire my accomplishment. Several merchants are already packing up their stands, closing up shop for the night. Kids scuttle around the street chasing one another, earning dirty looks and shouts from the shoppers still milling about.
I cut down an alley, close to where I robbed the unsuspecting young man, and start heading back to the Fort.
I can’t wait to see the look on A’s face—
I stop suddenly, eying a small crowd gathered farther down the street.
Must be a Veil.
It’s no surprise that the power of invisibility can inevitably aid someone at sleight of hand, using their ability to make cards disappear at will by simply holding them. I admire their deceitful little shows to earn some shillings.
I’m about to head the other way when I hear gasps coming from the crowd, echoing off the crumbling buildings. Not the typical oohs and ahs that are present during magic tricks, but scared gasps of shock and surprise. When my curiosity gets the better of me, I find myself behind the throng of people, wedging between sweaty bodies and pushing my way to the front of the crowd. When I raise my eyes to the scene before me, I gasp, cupping a hand to my mouth.
It’s him.
I saw him less than ten minutes ago, and yet his shirt now clings to him with sweat as he prepares to strike the man pinned beneath him with a flaming fist. Three other bodies litter the cobblestone behind him, slowly staggering to their feet before stumbling away.
It’s clear what happened here, obvious that these men had the same idea I did upon seeing the pouch hanging from the stranger’s hip. But they chose a much more violent way to get the coins—well, whatever is left of them.
I see the stranger say something to the man before he raises his fiery fist, ready to strike.
And then, something is suddenly, terribly wrong.
He’s clutching his head, and I watch his cocky expression crumple into utter agony when a figure steps out from the shadows. I can only see his back, but he’s tall and lean, raising a thin hand at the stranger gasping in pain on the alley floor.
That’s impossible.
The crowd around me seems just as confused and awed as I am. With his hand still outstretched, the Silencer takes small steps towards the black-haired figure now slumped on the ground.
He’s crippling his power. He’s crippling him.
I can see the stranger still trying to fight, trying to hang on to consciousness. The sight is suddenly so startlingly familiar, so sickening that I nearly stumbling into the man beside me.
This stranger and the man who raised me look nothing alike, and yet, the image of one crippled on the ground seems to bleed into the other. I suddenly feel like that little girl again, standing idly as my father died beneath me.
I look around, eyeing the gawking crowd. No one budges. Even with their fancy powers, no one makes a move to help. Either too afraid to do so or too heartless to help.
I know how this ends. I’ve lived it.
When I look back at the stranger, it’s my father I see.
Taking a deep breath, I take a step forward.
I won’t stand by idly again. I couldn’t save my father, but I’ll honor him now by saving someone from the same suffering he endured.
I’m probably going to regret this.
I creep to the edge of the crowd and begin slinking up behind the Silencer. I can practically feel the audience’s attention shift to me, the throng of people silently watching. Crouching low behind the man, I spot a large, loose rock lying on the cobblestone and snatch it up.
Here goes nothing.
I draw up to my full height right behind him and silently raise the rock, intending to connect it with his skull—
No such luck.
He pivots, his black eyes boring into mine. With his attention on me, his crushing hold on the stranger drops, and I hear him gasping for air on the ground.
The Silencer lifts his slender hand towards me, his shoulder-length hair whipping in the breeze. He’s trying to Silence me.
I almost smile.
No such luck.
Nothing happens, of course, considering I have no power for him to smother. He looks at his hand, then back at me, confused. The sight is almost comical, and that split second of hesitation is all I need.
I grab his wrist, twisting his arm at an odd angle before driving my knee into his stomach. I hear the air whoosh out of his lungs as he clutches his arm to his body. And with that, my adrenaline kicks in, itching for a fight.
It reminds me of all those late nights and early mornings with my father. Hours of training in the makeshift dirt ring behind our home. “Both your mind, as well as your body, need to be trained. Conditioned,” he’d say as I dodged his punches, all while answering his dozens of questions that tested my observation. I wielded any weapon we could get our hands on while my father trained every part of my being—my mind, my body, my Psychic ability.