Bulletproof Witch Read online

  Stepping over the fallen bandit, Temperance stared down at the upyr. He was thrashing about, still not dead even with a silver rod through his chest. Slowly he started to push himself up its length.

  “Oh no you don’t. Estalia Vos!” A second lance cut through the upyr’s side, angled so that it crossed the first one. Lucius was trapped, stuck to the floor like an insect in some exotic traveling display. A stream of unfamiliar words coursed from his lips. This time Temperance didn’t need a translator to catch their particular meaning.

  “Still not dead, huh?” She glanced up through the hole in the roof. The sky was already brightening, a haze of pink spreading through the clouds. “William tells me that your kind don’t like sunlight. I think it’s time we find out just how much truth there is to that.”

  Lucius yelled louder. Outside the cabin came an enormous clatter. Through the window, Temperance saw men charging up the hill, some waving clubs, others holding rifles. She reached for a box of ammunition and reloaded her revolver. The shouting outside grew closer.

  The pink in the sky grew stronger, deeper. The colors spread across the sky, and a thin line of yellow sun appeared at the roof’s edge. Temperance let loose a blast of white flames at two men as they tried to climb onto the roof.

  A scream from Lucius drew her attention. Sunlight had reached his cheek, and a curl of smoke drifted up from it, the smell like burning cobwebs or an old tomb heated by the sun. Lucius thrashed against the spikes holding him, straining to pull free. His hair curled and singed.

  C’mon, just a few more minutes! Temperance fired lightning into a group of thralls trying to reach the door, then sealed the entrance with more netting. A bandit tried climbing in the far window while she was distracted, so she put a silver spike right through his neck. Her revolver was empty, so she ejected the spent casings and stumbled over to the cache, pawing through it while blood dripped and oozed down her shirt. Divines, if you’re up there, end this already!

  The bullets in the cache were a mess of blood and grease. With her quivering vision, she couldn’t make out the symbols well enough to tell what she was loading. A bandit started pulling away the netting on the door. Temperance tried firing, cursed as nothing happened, and tried again. Shadows loomed at the windows as men tried to squeeze their way inside. The cabin filled with shouts and curses and calls to the Divines that mixed into a single cacophony, drowning out even the frantic thoughts in her head. She screamed words of power at the top of her lungs, not knowing if they were the right ones or if the words were lost among the symphony to death and chaos playing all around her.

  A plume of flames and smoke drew her attention. She turned and saw that Lucius was now fighting a battle of his own against the morning light, one that he was on the tail end of losing.

  The upyr’s face had already blackened and started to fall away. His limbs shriveled, veins pressing to the surface as the muscles atrophied in seconds. Lucius gave one last lunge to try to free himself. The upyr strained against his bonds, even as the skin around them turned to ash on the wind. He shook, spasmed, screamed. His body sagged back towards the cabin floor and went still.

  Amidst all the chaos, death had come for Lucius at last.

  The footsteps and shouting outside stopped. Temperance watched as bandits pulled away from the windows and cast their weapons aside, a few of them falling to their knees to retch. Several men muttered what sounded like prayers, and out of sight came the sound of someone weeping.

  One by one, the remaining members of the Gunpowder Gang turned and fled, their footsteps fading away down the hill until the sound was lost between the canyon walls.

  Temperance watched for another moment until she was certain they had all gone, then slid to the ground, her legs quivering, every muscle in her body screaming in protest. She raised a hand to feel at her bloody neck. Her fingers came back red, but she didn’t think it was bad enough to kill her, at least no sooner than any of her other injuries.

  It was over. They had survived, by some miracle of the Three or the Dawnbringer or whatever god that cared to listen. At that moment Temperance didn’t care. She would have kissed the feet of any of them in thanks.

  Can’t rest yet, she reminded herself, her body groaning in protest as she forced herself to her feet. Unless your plan is to bleed out in the next few minutes.

  She stumbled over to where Richard Whittaker lay on the floor. The bandit leader looked up at her, face gritted in pain. He held one hand out in front of him as she leaned down. “Peace! I don’t feel the monster in my mind anymore. I’m free!”

  “Congratulations.” Temperance wound her fist back and pounded the side of Richard’s skull. His eyes rolled back in his head, arms going limp at his sides.

  She patted the man in more places than she cared to before finally finding her knife. In the daylight it looked like an ordinary blade once again, but she would have known that pommel anywhere, the feel of it so natural in her hand it felt like another of her limbs. She cradled it like a child for a moment, then crawled over to William.

  When she had sawed halfway through the vines encasing him, the boy came awake with a snort and tried to sit up. “Look out! The roof—” He paused and looked around.

  “Hold still, don’t need both of us bleeding out here.” Temperance grumbled and continued hacking at the thick vines with one hand, the other pressed against her stomach. William blinked at her, then lifted his gaze to the sun peeking over the canyon walls.

  “Is . . . is it over? Is Lucius gone?”

  “You tell me.” Temperance gestured to where the last remnants of the upyr lay smoking in the sunshine. It barely looked human anymore, little more than scraps of charred bone half lost amid the other corpses strewn across the cabin floor.

  “Oh, Temperance!” Arms encircled her, and Temperance found herself awkwardly returning the boy’s embrace, carefully angling the knife outward so as not to stab either of them. The next moment William pulled away and looked at her. “You are hurt! Let me fetch my bag.”

  He leapt to his feet as the last vines were cut, and in moments was digging through the debris with a newfound abandon. Temperance collapsed against the wall, wincing every time she shifted. The wound in her leg had torn open again—she had stopped counting the number of times that had happened—and the bullethole in her stomach bled fresh each time she moved. Never mind the mess Lucius had made of her neck. Now there was a sharp pain spreading across her back as well. Her troubles just kept coming, that was for—

  She froze. With everything else going on, she hadn’t even noticed the heat sliding up her spine. Now she realized what it was.

  “Get down!” she screamed. William looked up at her as he extracted his bag from under a broken table. His mouth opened to speak.

  The cabin wall next to him burst apart as massive spider-like legs clawed their way through. Others gripped along the edges of the broken roof, pulling the massive bulk of the horse-beast into view. Glowing black eyes glittered in the sunlight as the creature studied its prey.

  Temperance cursed and felt along the floor for more bullets. Her hands ran over empty casings, a few pieces of shattered glass. The remains of the stove. She winced as a shard cut through her skin, not daring to take her eyes off the monster staring down at her.

  Then the horse-beast’s gaze shifted. It blinked at William and let out a trumpeting cry. Long legs burst forward, curling around the boy and lifting him into the air.

  “Hilpan!” William flailed and pounded at the creature’s flesh, doing little beyond enraging it further. Temperance stretched out across the floor, her side screaming at her, blood flowing along her neck as she twisted about, searching for anything of use. Her eyes alighted upon an open box.

  The horse-beast let out a trumpeting cry of victory and brought William towards its massive jaws. Saliva dripped down its chin to splatter amid the cabin’s broken remains. Temperance ejected spent cartridges from her revolver with a fury she had never known, slammed home t
he fresh rounds and locked the wheel back in place. Above her, William screamed as the creature’s mouth drew closer.

  Temperance pressed a thumb onto the hammer of her revolver. “Estalia Vo—”

  She paused. Glowing black eyes slid over to regard her, resting a moment on the weapon. They turned back to William, the focused gaze of a predator. It let out another trumpeting cry right in the boy’s face. The cabin shook with the force of it.

  Temperance stared at the monster before her, and the moment seemed to stretch into eternity. She knew what she needed to do, but the part of her that was the ruthless fighter railed against the part that was just a lonely girl missing her best friend. The two grappled inside her skull, a war far greater than the one she had just waged against the upyr.

  This, however, was not the soulless monster that Lucius had been. This was Astor, the one who was always at her side, the one that supported her no matter the trouble that came their way. This was the only other living soul that knew the pain she had suffered, that she continued to suffer each and every day. Could she really raise her weapon against that? Turn her grandfather’s creations against her own familiar? Surely the shared pain of such an experience would be the end of her as well.

  She shuddered, and the fighter inside her withdrew.

  I . . . I can’t do it. Not even for William. I can’t kill that thing if there’s even a chance that Astor is inside of it. She lowered her weapon, gaze dropping to the floor. Even through the pain, I can feel him in there with my bond. I’ve lost too much already these last few days. I won’t lose this too.

  In the background, William screamed and clawed at his attacker. The beast’s tongue ran in circles around his face. Temperance squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t watch this. To have failed again, when they were so close to freedom. She felt the horse-beast’s triumph burning bright through the heat along her spine.

  Her head snapped back up. An idea began churning in her skull, the implications of it so radical, it almost hurt to consider them. I can feel him through our bond. I’ve always felt him, and he’s felt me. That’s how he keeps finding us. Yet all this time, all these encounters, he’s never once actually attacked me. What if . . . .

  “Hey!” Temperance climbed unsteadily to her feet. Her vision went black a moment, head feeling as if it were full of air. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand tall. “Hey, I’m talking to you! You put him down right this instant!”

  The horse-beast turned to regard her. Another cry died halfway up its throat.

  “That’s right. Put William down. He’s a friend, you understand? Put. Him. Down.”

  With an almost casual wave, the horse-beast dropped William to the floor, and turned in her direction. It swung its head down, until the creature’s glowing black eyes were only inches from Temperance’s own. The monster’s breath was foul with rot and decay, of brine-infested swamps and crumbling tower ruins. It smelled like death incarnate.

  Temperance reached a hand up and gently patted the horse-beast’s face. The monster closed its eyes, a satisfied clicking noise sliding past its lips.

  “Everything is fine now. You never wanted to hurt me, did you, boy? You were just trying to follow me, protect me in your own way. Isn’t that right?”

  The creature didn’t respond, just rubbed against her outstretched palm. A long tongue stretched out and left an eye-watering trail of putrid saliva along her cheek. Temperance ignored it.

  “I don’t know if I can fix what happened to you, but I’ve got to try. You trust me, right, Astor?”

  The horse-beast blew out a blast of air in a huff and lowered its head to where she could reach. Black eyes closed, and it held very still.

  Temperance drew her knife. With careful strokes, she cut several lines into the creature’s forehead, retracing the lines of the binding rune that had been there before. Flakes of dried blood from the original cut blew away as she worked, leaving no trace of the gash that had started this adventure in the first place.

  “There, that should do it.” Temperance stepped back, and the horse-beast looked at her. Its whole body gave a shudder, and a twin echo of it vibrated along Temperance’s spine. She hardly took any notice of it. Her body was finally done with its last task, and had been pushed to its absolute limit. Her legs buckled, and the last thing Temperance saw before the floor rushed up to greet her was the black light in the horse-beast’s eyes fading away to nothing.

  * * *

  When Temperance awoke, it was dark again. She lay wrapped in a warm blanket, and somewhere behind came the crackle and hiss of a fire. Overhead she could see the first stars of the night twinkling to life, brighter out here than one could ever hope to see in the cities. It was easy to forget the tiny things like that until you were miles into the wilderness with only your own voice for company.

  She tried to turn towards the fire, and pain flared through her. Everything hurt like she had been whipped raw by razor wire, but the side of her stomach was a particularly bright spot of agony. The pain from that alone set her teeth grinding against each other, the rest of it just adding to the overall flavor.

  “Careful, you should not be moving yet.” A hand pressed gently on her shoulder and guided her back down. William’s face appeared above her, smiling. Despite the pain, Temperance smiled back.

  “My horse. Is he—?”

  “Fine, I think. He is cropping—is that the right word for it?—cropping grass lower down on the hill. I tried keeping him closer, but he almost bit me when I approached. I do not think he likes me, for some reason.”

  “No, I expect he doesn’t. Why he caused so much trouble . . . back in the redgrass. I’ll have to ask him later—” She cut off as a cough wracked her chest.

  “Yes, yes, that is enough for now. Better if you save your voice. I did what I could for the damage to your throat, but you should not strain it any further. We should camp here a few days until you feel well enough to travel on.”

  “Fine by me. Any sign of the Gunpowder Gang?”

  William shook his head. “I do not think they will return. From what I know, being enthralled is an . . . unpleasant process. They are likely far away from here by now. All except that one.”

  He jerked a thumb towards the corner. Temperance saw Richard Whittaker, gagged and bound to the stove with iron chains. He glared at them silently.

  “When I discovered he was still alive, I was not sure what to do with him.” William glanced at her. “I know he has done terrible things, even before being enthralled, but I did not wish for his blood on my hands. I hope you do not think less of me for that.”

  “You did the right thing. He may be . . . a piece of scrum, but it’s better if he’s alive.” Temperance caught Richard’s gaze. “I wonder what the sheriff in Sweetwater will pay . . . when I drop you on her doorstep. Considering you tried to kill her, and all.”

  Richard didn’t respond, didn’t make so much as a muffled cry, but she could see a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead. She laughed, which set off a fresh round of coughing. Even without the injury to her neck, she had hollered enough last night for a lifetime. Several of them, in fact.

  She turned back to William. “Give me a day or two. We’ll ride . . . out of here. First Sweetwater, and finally Messanai. Nothing standing in our . . . way now.”

  “I would like that.” The boy smiled at her. The sight alone was worth every ache of this journey.

  “Could you tell my horse . . . I’d like a word with him?”

  William nodded and disappeared from view. Overhead the stars turned on their immortal axis, slowly sliding across the night sky. Or maybe that was just her imagination, the effect of too many sleepless nights and too little blood pumping through her veins.

  At last the boy returned, and another familiar figure joined him. Astor looked down at her, long face all ordinary horse once again. Black eyes regarded her with his usual surly expression, although Temperance thought she saw a hint of something else as well. Worry,
perhaps? Guilt?

  Looks like I missed a bit of trouble. Astor blinked and blew a puff of grassy breath into her face. Let me guess—we’re not getting paid for this job either, are we? I let you out of my sight for a few days . . . .

  “Good to see you too, Astor.” Temperance closed her eyes. “Good to see you, too.”

  Conclusion

  Five Years Earlier

  Warm summer light streamed in through the open window. Temperance sat on her bed, snot dripping from her nose, tears leaving streaks along her bloody face. She sniffed, hating herself for not being stronger, for letting herself lose control in front of Martin like that. It had felt like she was a bottle, and someone had pulled the cork out. Now there was no chance of putting her watery emotions back in.

  A light knock sounded at the door. Temperance didn’t bother to speak, just wiped her face hurriedly on the sleeve of her shirt. When she looked up, Martin stood in the doorway.

  “Mind if I come in?”

  Temperance shrugged. “It’s your house.”

  “I suppose it is at that. Doesn’t always feel that way, never mind I’ve lived here for the better part of three decades.”

  When she didn’t respond, Martin gave a little sigh. He moved over and sat down beside her on the bed.

  “I’m sorry about what happened up there,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Truth be told, I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing with you. Most folks that come to me for training are dumber than a pile of rocks. You, however, have got more potential in your little finger than all the men I’ve trained combined. I’m sure your grandfather saw that, too; probably why he worked you hard as he did. Hell, it’s why I didn’t want to train you in the first place. Your grandfather reshaped all of Korvana with his talents. Who knows what you’ll accomplish with his blood running through your veins?”

  Temperance looked up. She opened her mouth, but Martin held out a hand.