The men howled with laughter. Sara pulled Tom to his feet. “Tell me this is part of your plan.”
Tom sputtered through his bleeding nose, “You didn’t happen to increase your social skills, did you?”
“What?" Sara said. "That’s not even one of the options, Tom.”
Thick fingers wrapped around Sara’s arms, lifting her off her feet.
“I take this one,” said the man behind her.
Sara’s heart leaped to her throat. “Tom?” she called, her shrill voice betraying her fear. “Now would be a good time to use those princely powers of yours.”
Tom charged, fists clenched and ready to strike. “By the Goddess of Arcadia I order you-”
Another punch sent the prince twisting into the air.
The man holding Sara began dragging her away. She swung her foot back, catching his groin. The man groaned and dropped her. Sara ripped into her pants, sliding out the wooden stake strapped to her thigh. Pivoting, she sliced across the man’s throat.
Blood rivered to the ground, spilling between the man’s fat hands as he desperately tried to hold it back.
“Get her!”
The gang charged. Sara rolled out of the way, stabbing at ankles and legs. The men fumbled after her. One managed to catch Sara as she got up, slapping her weapon away and wrapping his arms around her. Tom screamed as he ran over with a rock held in his fist, but the Tinkerer cut into his path, slamming the butt of his hatch into the prince’s stomach.
Tom dropped his rock and went down for good.
Sara began to struggle. She kicked at the man holding her but he was pressed too closely.
“Feisty fishy!” he chortled, swinging her around to face the rest of the gang sitting under the trees. “Who wants to go first? I’ll take your finest bottle of mead as an entry fee!”
Tom shouted something but his voice was lost under the Tinkerer’s boot. Sara couldn’t see him. She couldn’t see anything but a blur of color. Her back hit the ground. Air left her. She would’ve screamed but her lungs didn’t work.
Hands grabbed her. Heavy bodies blocked out the sky, their touch reminding her too much of her coach.
Reality shifted with the memory. That grinning face, those filthy eyes; Sara found herself staring at her Kendo coach. She heard the sound of the table pinging with an unspent point. The man on the ground must have died.
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The coach opened his mouthful of yellow teeth and asked, “You know what’s about to happen, don’t you?”
Sara nodded.
> New Cantrip unlocked.
>
> Create Water.
“Remember. You asked for this,” Coach said. He reeked of alcohol and sweat. Sara kept staring into his eyes. They were brown, the whites piss-yellow.
The Coach frowned. "What are you looking at? Got something on my face?”
“Yea,” said Sara, pinpointing her focus onto the man’s right eye - There, behind the lens, where the nerves joined the brain. “Just a touch of water.”
The man’s eye surged to the size of a golf ball. He howled, back arching like a prawn as fluid erupted out of his face. He tumbled off of Sara with his hands clawing at his dribbling eye socket.
The wind stopped moving.
“She’s the traveler who killed the guard!”
Shivs and bats appeared from within hollow tree trunks. Sara started running. She dropped into a slide, grabbed someone’s knee, and injected the femoral artery with liquid.
The man crashed to the ground, gasping. He clutched at his chest as his body locked up into spasms.
> New Cantrip learned.
>
> Evaporate.
Sara slammed her palms onto the ground and filled the soil with water. The farmland flashed into a swamp, tripping the men as they sank into the mush.
“Evaporate!”
In her mind, Sara saw a web of water under the soil, a network of hydrogen and oxygen stretched out beneath her fingertips. As power surged inside her, she commanded the bonds between the elements to break, separating oxygen and hydrogen. Then, she added a spark of fire into the mix.
The swampland erupted. Clouds of steam and mud plumed. Men screamed as their limbs were flung away from them, tainting the sky red. The explosion shook through the camp, flattening crops and pulling trees loose.
Sara stood. A light rain was falling, and it felt heavenly on her feverish skin. She took a step and wobbled. She felt both lightheaded and sick.
The table flashed in front of her eyes, dark blue against the mist.
> Chaos gained. 81/100
>
> Chaos gained. 82/100
>
> Chaos gained. 83/100
Someone touched her and she spun around, ready to burn, but it was Tom.
“You killed them,” he said in a voice barely audible above the ringing.
Sara stumbled, gripping Tom’s arm for balance. Mist covered everything, but through it were bouts of red and orange where the farm was burning.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tom said. “We need to go.”
Sara nodded. She made it three steps before falling to her knees and vomiting.
Tom cursed. He slung an arm around Sara’s waist and dragged her through the fields. He was injured too, one eye was swollen shut and blood was still dripping from his nose, but he kept at it, passing through crops withering under dancing flames, and human body parts. Smoke took the place where the mist ended.
“Go,” Sara said, coughing from the falling ashes. “Get yourself home.”
“You’ve passed the point of playing hero long ago,” Tom said, covering his nose with his sleeve. “I’m taking you with me to be trailed for your crimes.”
Fire continued to spread, raging across the farmland. Sara couldn’t see anything, but she didn’t know if it was because of the smoke or the blaring table inside her eyes.
> Chaos gained. 84/100
>
> Chaos gained. 85/100
>
> Chaos gained. 86/100
So many points. Unspent. So much power. Sara reached out with shaky fingers…
Tom dropped to a crouch, forcing her down as well.
“Do you hear that?” he asked.
Sara shook her head. She could barely hear him. She reached for the table once more, but stopped. Because she did hear it. Over all the screaming and chaos was the distinct click, clicking, of remotes.