The Way of the Blade by Stuart Jaffe

passed by the groom’s family chairs, she swiped the small piece of metal Soralia had entered upon, tearing the sash that held it in place. Holding Viper in her right hand and the metal in the left, Malja sprang into the air. The metal kept rising when gravity should have pulled it back. As she sped towards Ten Snakes, she saw her killing blow and only needed another few feet to strike.
    Moving like a dancer, Ten Snake twisted his torso and sent a narrow, smoking wave at Malja. It hit her in the chest, jolting the metal from her hand, and thrusting her back to the ground. As his body continued to turn, he stopped his attack on the farmhouse. Removing the pressure sent Tommy’s magic off in wild directions. Ten Snakes evaded it all. Then, with a casual swat of his hand, his magic slammed Tommy face-first into the ground. He peeked at Malja, smirked, and all of his snakes turned rigid and pointed at the farmhouse.
    Every bit of glass exploded outward. The window, the sconces, the decorations, the special dishes — all of it shattered and sent shards into the air. People screamed as they received cuts and slices.
    He floated toward Malja but kept higher in the air than his dead companions. As Malja rose to her feet, Ten Snakes leaned forward. Recognition clouded his face as if she was a dark omen.
    “Do-kha,” he said, his jaw jutting out, his chin lifting up.
    “You know this?” Malja said, pulling on her do-kha. “You know Harskill?”
    But Ten Snakes backed away, turned, and flew off like a cloud caught in a strong wind. Before he was out of sight, Malja had moved on. She ran to Tommy’s side.
    She looked over his chest and arms, but he pushed her away. He kept his head low and wiped at his eyes. “Don’t be upset. You did a good job.” He shook his head. “You did. Look at all the people coming out of that farmhouse. They’re alive because of you.”
    Tommy peeked over his shoulder. The guests filed out, bloody and shaken but all of them alive.
    “Come on,” she said. “Let’s help them some more.”
    Tommy hid his smile, yet he nodded.
    But an anguished cry took over. They looked to the ceremonial circle. Javery had fallen to his knees. In his arms, he held Soralia, his sister. Her dead eyes gazed at the sky.
     
     
     

Chapter 10
    Javery
     
    Javery’s brain could not put the pieces together. His sister, his Soralia, his Si-Si — she rested in his arms, yet she did not move. She did not cry. She did not breathe. Her eyes had glazed over like a limp doll in his shaking hands.
    Only when his throat ached did he understand that he had been wailing. Only when his tears dried did he see that all the guests had formed a wide circle around him.
    Father reached down and stroked Soralia’s hair. His fingers trembled and tears soaked his face. Javery had never seen the man look so old. Broken. Mother stood stoic and hard but sickly pale, too.
    He lost track of time again. Somehow he had been moved from Soralia’s side. He sat on a chair a short distance away. Canto and others, openly weeping, dug a grave next to where she had died. They placed her inside, and one by one, all the guests dropped flowers upon her. Her wedding flowers.
    Druzane sat next to him, one arm around his shoulder, a hand on his arm. She stayed by his side, offering her warmth, her love, her sympathy. He lifted her chin. “You’re good to me.”
    She wiped a tear from his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you. Take your time. When you’re ready to speak, you let me know.”
    “Speak?”
    “You’ve got to make a speech. Whenever a tragedy occurs, leaders speak to the people, help them through the pain, rally them toward whatever cause is needed. I know you’re grieving, it’s horrible what has happened, but you can’t back away from your opportunities. Not if you want to rule over this country.”
    Javery covered his face. How could Druzane ask such a thing? Surely, nobody expected him to make a speech. Not now.
    As Canto and his