quick nod, Fawbry eased back to Tommy and Owl. Malja walked to her horse, grabbed her whetstone from the saddlebag, and sharpened Viper. Each stroke let her mind release from the tensions of this decision. She knew that she would have to decide soon, always it was up to her to make the big decisions, but for the moment, she could let all thoughts congeal into one simple idea — sharpen Viper.
What confounded her wasn't the responsibility of a decision, but rather her reaction when her decisions included Tommy. In battle, she had faced hard choices numerous times. Lives were gained or lost based on the paths she chose for her armies to follow. In direct combat, her mind had to evaluate an enemy, find an opening, and exploit it to the fullest — all while defending every incoming attack. She had faced these challenges more times than she'd care to recount, and she had done so with great success. But when it came to choices concerning Tommy, she felt stymied. Except it was more than that. It wasn't just Tommy — it was anything involving Tommy and magic.
She kept seeing him from that first day — dirty and chained to the fuel cells of a thief's ship; the dark, churning sea; ready to jump into an unknown future with her simply because he knew a good chance when he saw it; the pounding rain; the way he curled around her leg as she rowed a lifeboat to safety. He was small and innocent but, even then, had the fierce bravery she loved.
That was it, really. She wanted to keep him like he was back then. Malja silently laughed at herself. She suppressed her emotions and personal thoughts so often that it took a long time for her to see what others picked up on right away.
Fawbry had it figured out already, she guessed. At least, he thought he did. Except another thought gnawed just underneath. Magic. It corrupted souls and twisted minds and destroyed people. And it was powerful.
"Tommy, come here," she called over her shoulder.
The boy paused long enough to send her the message that he chose to come. When he sat, she observed him for a moment. He had shown her too many times now just how powerful he had become. And yet . . .
"Why did you let those fools capture you?" she asked. "You could've stopped them easily."
Tommy firmed up his chest, pointed at her, and then raised three fingers. Her third law — Before using magic, do for yourself.
"You got caught because you tried to not use magic?"
He motioned with his head in an unclear way. He didn't want to admit anything to her.
Malja's heart split. Happy that he had even attempted to follow her ways. Sad that he had so clearly needed his magic. And what would have happened had she not arrived in time? Would Tommy have used his magic then, more than just a jolt of electricity, or would he have let them sell him into slavery once more? She knew the answer even if she didn't want to know. If any serious danger had threatened the boy, he wouldn't have blinked at annihilating those fools.
"Okay," she said, and the other men walked over to her. She put away the whetstone and grabbed some gear lying on the ground. "I don't think this Library is going to be an issue. Nobody has the key book, so nobody gets to use the Library."
Fawbry looked as shocked as Malja felt. "We're actually going to help him?"
She glanced back at Tommy. "It doesn't seem to be working well the way we're going now." She wheeled around to Owl and pointed her finger at him, the threat of her words equally matched in that simple gesture. "I don't trust you, but I will make you a promise. If you're lying to us, if you try anything, I won't just kill you. I'll make you suffer something awful first."
Owl had the brains to stay quiet.
The next day passed by in the monotony of travel. Because Tommy's horse had been killed, he rode on one inherited from the dead kidnappers. It fought his inexperienced technique, causing him to utter numerous grunts and groans as he used the reins and braced against the horse's
What confounded her wasn't the responsibility of a decision, but rather her reaction when her decisions included Tommy. In battle, she had faced hard choices numerous times. Lives were gained or lost based on the paths she chose for her armies to follow. In direct combat, her mind had to evaluate an enemy, find an opening, and exploit it to the fullest — all while defending every incoming attack. She had faced these challenges more times than she'd care to recount, and she had done so with great success. But when it came to choices concerning Tommy, she felt stymied. Except it was more than that. It wasn't just Tommy — it was anything involving Tommy and magic.
She kept seeing him from that first day — dirty and chained to the fuel cells of a thief's ship; the dark, churning sea; ready to jump into an unknown future with her simply because he knew a good chance when he saw it; the pounding rain; the way he curled around her leg as she rowed a lifeboat to safety. He was small and innocent but, even then, had the fierce bravery she loved.
That was it, really. She wanted to keep him like he was back then. Malja silently laughed at herself. She suppressed her emotions and personal thoughts so often that it took a long time for her to see what others picked up on right away.
Fawbry had it figured out already, she guessed. At least, he thought he did. Except another thought gnawed just underneath. Magic. It corrupted souls and twisted minds and destroyed people. And it was powerful.
"Tommy, come here," she called over her shoulder.
The boy paused long enough to send her the message that he chose to come. When he sat, she observed him for a moment. He had shown her too many times now just how powerful he had become. And yet . . .
"Why did you let those fools capture you?" she asked. "You could've stopped them easily."
Tommy firmed up his chest, pointed at her, and then raised three fingers. Her third law — Before using magic, do for yourself.
"You got caught because you tried to not use magic?"
He motioned with his head in an unclear way. He didn't want to admit anything to her.
Malja's heart split. Happy that he had even attempted to follow her ways. Sad that he had so clearly needed his magic. And what would have happened had she not arrived in time? Would Tommy have used his magic then, more than just a jolt of electricity, or would he have let them sell him into slavery once more? She knew the answer even if she didn't want to know. If any serious danger had threatened the boy, he wouldn't have blinked at annihilating those fools.
"Okay," she said, and the other men walked over to her. She put away the whetstone and grabbed some gear lying on the ground. "I don't think this Library is going to be an issue. Nobody has the key book, so nobody gets to use the Library."
Fawbry looked as shocked as Malja felt. "We're actually going to help him?"
She glanced back at Tommy. "It doesn't seem to be working well the way we're going now." She wheeled around to Owl and pointed her finger at him, the threat of her words equally matched in that simple gesture. "I don't trust you, but I will make you a promise. If you're lying to us, if you try anything, I won't just kill you. I'll make you suffer something awful first."
Owl had the brains to stay quiet.
The next day passed by in the monotony of travel. Because Tommy's horse had been killed, he rode on one inherited from the dead kidnappers. It fought his inexperienced technique, causing him to utter numerous grunts and groans as he used the reins and braced against the horse's
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