Firefight by Brandon Sanderson Page A

motor puttered quietly behind us. “I …,” she finally said. “There was a fire inside the building I was on. I heard people screaming. I tried to help.…”
    “You should know better than that,” Val said. “You keep telling me you want to learn to take point—then you do something like this.”
    “Sorry,” the young woman said, sounding miserable.
    “Did you save them?” I asked.
    Mizzy looked up at me.
    “The people in the building,” I added. Sparks, my neck was sore. I tried not to show the pain, or my exhaustion, as Mizzy regarded me.
    “Yeah,” Mizzy said. “They didn’t need much saving, though. All I did was unlock a door. They’d gone inside to hide, and the fires had burned down to their floor.”
    “Nice,” I said.
    Tia glanced at me. “She shouldn’t have abandoned her post.”
    “I’m not saying she should have, Tia,” I replied, meeting her gaze. “But let’s be honest. I’m not certain I could have let a bunch of people burn to death.” I glanced at Mizzy. “It was probably the wrong thing to do, but I’ll bet those people are glad you did it anyway. And I managed to squeak by, so it all turned out all right. Nice work.” I held out my fist for a bump.
    She returned the bump hesitantly, smiling.
    Tia sighed. “It is our burden to sometimes make difficult choices. Risking the plan to save one life may cause the deaths of hundreds. Remember that, both of you.”
    “Sure,” I said. “But shouldn’t we be talking about whatjust happened? Two of the most powerful and most arrogant Epics in the world are working together. How in Calamity’s name did Regalia manage to recruit Obliteration of all people?”
    “It was easy,” Regalia said. “I offered to let him destroy my city.”
    I jumped, scrambling away from the Epic, who was forming out of water beside the boat. The liquid melded into her shape, taking on her coloring, and she settled with one foot up on the rim of the boat, hands folded in her lap, the other foot still merging with the surface beside the boat.
    She had an elegant, matronly look about her—like a kindly grandmother who had dressed up to visit the big city. A city she was apparently planning to destroy. She looked us over, and though I clutched my rifle, I didn’t shoot. She was a projection, a creation of water. The real Regalia could have been anywhere.
    No , I thought. Not anywhere . Projection powers like hers usually had very limited ranges.
    Regalia inspected us, her lips downturned. She seemed confused by something.
    “What are you up to, Abigail?” Tia demanded.
    So you know her too , I thought, glancing at Tia.
    “I just told you,” Regalia said. “I’m going to destroy the city.”
    “Why?”
    “Because, dear. It’s what we do .” Regalia shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can no longer help myself.”
    “Oh please,” Tia said. “You expect me to believe that you, of all Epics, are out of control? What is your real motive? Why have you drawn us here?”
    “I said—”
    “No games, Abigail,” Tia snapped. “I don’t have the patiencefor it tonight. If you’re going to spin lies, just leave right now and spare me the headache.”
    Regalia bowed her head quietly for a moment, then she slowly stood up, moving deliberately, carefully. She perched on the rim of the small boat, and I saw a hint of translucence to her—the water that made up her likeness showing through.
    The sea around our boat began to churn and bubble.
    “What,” Regalia said softly, “do you take me for?”
    Tentacles made of water broke the surface around us. Exel cursed, and I spun, flipping my rifle to fully automatic and unloading a spray of bullets into the nearest tendril. It splashed water, but didn’t stop moving.
    The tentacles of water moved in around us, like the fingers of some enormous beast from below. One seized me by the neck, and another snaked forward and wrapped my wrist in a cold, incongruously solid grip.
    The others shouted and