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36: The Grinder

  36. THE GRINDER

  I rolled away from Uof again, despite the brutal shock of the pain I felt now.

  When I came to a stop, I pulled up into a crouch a few feet away from Uof. He had to pull back to get set up for another attack. In that moment, I looked up at the people of Vale standing around the square, watching me. I only had a second to register it, but I saw fear in their eyes.

  I did not want to be here, I didn’t want to die here, today, especially fighting a half-machine, half-man monster who was ruining the world. But these people wanted me to defeat him, to take him down, and I could see it in their faces.

  I saw a pleading in their eyes.

  I recalled the anger I’d felt at The Motorized and their destruction of the Way, their senseless killing and kidnapping of mages everywhere. Uof who was responsible for all of this; he was The Motorized, he was the embodiment of the oppression of my order. Recalling this anger and seeing the faces of the people of Vale rekindled something in me.

  I thought of Ehren and his rage and desire for revenge against The Motorized. His intense determination over the past months had been an inspiration. He himself was locked in battle somewhere nearby, and I knew, I had to keep fighting.

  In pain, but burning hotter on the inside, I got back to my feet and backed up for a moment. There was far too much blood on the ground from where he’d stomped me, and as I looked down, the side of my entire stomach was soaked in blood and it ran down my leg. I still felt dizzy but took a deep, shaky breath to steady myself.

  I was an old man, but I had to press on.

  I drained more matter and funneled it into the head of the staff, as I took slow steps backwards. Uof followed me now, grinning, seeing that he had me on the retreat. I let him smile and allowed the fire inside me to burn hotter. I glared at him, anger in my eyes, a burning in my belly. Even the pain in my side now, I decided, would be fuel to keep me going in this fight.

  With enough matter in the head of my staff, I pointed it at Uof even as I took slow steps back. I let him get a little bit closer with each step, readying to cast my next spell.

  I wove the spell quickly, feeling the familiar thrill of casting so many spells in a short amount of time, and I launched a long burst of fire into the one place I knew he was more man than machine.

  His face.

  The long blast of fire shot into Uof’s face and because of the oily discharge all over what remained of his body and his mechanized limbs, the rest of him caught fire immediately.

  I should have tried that earlier, I thought to myself as I shot more fire at the towering monster.

  Suddenly, the cloaked one called Ruath the Grinder, stepped out from behind Uof. He wove a hand, and put out the fire in a subtle puff of smoke. The Grinder moved his hands so quickly but expertly I hadn’t even been able to follow the movements.

  How had he done that?

  It clearly looked like a spell. Which meant . . . this meant that Ruath was . . . a mage? A sudden urge sprang up inside me, and I felt I needed to know that spell. I’d never seen it’s like before.

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  I threw up another shield spell to counter anything either of them might send my way. At least, I had their attention now, while our Spellcasters and fighters appeared to be faring well.

  I focused back on Uof, the sudden eruption of fire seemed to have stunned him as well as the sudden quenching of it. He regained his bearings and glared at me, patches of soot now staining his face.

  For the first time though, I also watched The Grinder more carefully, the one in the shadowed cowl whose face I couldn’t quite see. If he was a mage in addition to being both swordsman and general, that would change everything. I wanted to know more about this Ruath, and this eagerness sprang from a place I’d felt before. Whenever I saw another mage in my travels, I often felt this kind of hunger that I'd long attributed to a need for community, for friends, and other mages, but this time the other mage was my enemy.

  The Grinder slid back and forth behind Uof now, obviously protecting him. He fired several bolts of energy in my direction only to see them explode against my invisible shield. I still felt dizzy and I could feel myself losing blood by the second–I needed to wrap my side and stop the bleeding soon.

  Watching both Uof and the Grinder, I wove a new spell, moving my hands in practiced motions I’d saved up for a moment like this one. It was a powerful dynamite spell, and with some tricky maneuvering, I sent it to explode in the metallic ankle joint of Uof’s bulky metallic right leg. He was regaining his bearings and starting to focus on me. It was difficult to precisely locate the action of a spell like this—especially when the target was moving—but I had to disable this man-machine. If Uof went down, I could focus on The Grinder and what he really was. Uof began to run towards me again.

  But now I also had The Grinder’s attention.

  The cowled man started to slide around the square trying to move around behind me. He moved like ink in water, flowing, unpredictable, and looked very dangerous. I backed up further, so far that I stepped out of the market square and began to move back down the street and toward the city gates.

  With a flick of my wrists, I finished the weave of the spell and triggered it by pulling my fingers into a fist.

  WHAM!

  A massive explosion rocked Uof’s right ankle joint, spraying metallic shrapnel out into the skirmish, and into the crowd too. And I heard screams. Hot stinging metal hit my left arm when I raised it to block my face.

  It burned but the wound wasn’t deep, and I had other things to focus on.

  Uof’s eyes opened wide in surprise—and slowly, as he tried to take another step, he couldn’t find purchase with his right leg and fell forward into the ground, landing hard.

  Simultaneously, a concussive shockwave knocked me off my feet.

  I found myself on the ground, spitting sand from my mouth, and wiping blood from my face. I sat up with my body in agony, pain shooting from my arm, my side—my head swam. I groaned but got to my feet anyway.

  The Grinder. He must have launched something in my direction.

  I found Uof in my vision, blurry though it was—wrenching himself up into a sitting position. He leveled his crossbow arm and readied himself to fire, but the trigger appeared to jam. He stared at the contraption attached to his arm in confusion and apparent fury, looking like a toddler whose favorite toy broke in his hands.

  I looked at the crowd, some of whom were armed thugs and part of Uof’s motorized. Some, however, were just regular people. Watching. Hundreds of faces all around the square staring at the scene, people careful not to cheer either their leader or the challenger. Still, I saw eyes hopeful and pleading. What would these people say if they could speak to their leader now?

  Dizziness rocked me as I worked to gain hold of my mind and get to my feet.

  There in the background, I spotted who I’d been seeking. The Grinder skulked, moving between soldiers still in pitched battle, sliding towards me, and his hands began to move smoothly just as he did. No, strike that—The Grinder wove a spell!

  Suddenly, so quickly it was hard to follow, The Grinder finished his weave and sent a long gout of fire my direction, and I reacted quickly by rolling to the left.

  This was a bad idea. Another wave of dizziness swept over me, and the world went a little dark at the edges. I wasn’t sure how long I could stay awake. I was an old man after all—I didn't have all the facilities I once had as a younger man.

  So, I got to my feet, turned, and ran.

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