Chapter 5: Part 4 - Blind Spot

Oska knew, within half a minute of Spark’s challenge, that he’d made a mistake. He wanted her dead. He even wanted to be the one to kill her. He was just no longer sure that was a feat he’d be able to accomplish.

Spark fought like no one else he’d ever faced. She wielded no magic and carried no blades, nor did she wear any obvious armour. And yet every time Oska got close, to slash or stab or cripple, she deflected him with apparent ease.

First, there were tiny bombs that she tossed almost carelessly; those went up in clouds of choking gas or blinding flashes of light. There were others that didn’t immediately explode, but that hurled Oska sideways when he got too close. There were even whirling, clattering turrets that sprayed flame in great arcs, or peppered the air with shrapnel.

All of which Oska could have dealt with ‒ he’d fought engineers before and won ‒ if it hadn’t been for Spark’s rifle.

Oska had thought he was used to those, too. He knew how to avoid an engineer’s nets and explosives, how to keep moving and always stay out of his attacker’s line of sight. Except Spark wielded her gun with a sniper’s precision, so that no matter how often Oska disappeared into shadow, her next shot always seemed to be waiting for him.

Bang. Another bullet cracked into the ground at Oska’s feet as he rolled away from a sputtering turret. He flung a smoke bomb of his own in Spark’s direction, but she shot it clean out of the air in a burst of black powder. Seeing an opening, Oska shadowstepped closer, but Spark swung the rifle back to face him with lightning speed. Oska cursed under his breath and dodged sideways. He felt Spark’s next shot pass close enough to flutter his hair.

He shadowstepped away, almost colliding with a turret that made the ground shake in furious pulses. Oska planted one hand on the ground and sprang over it, except the turret abruptly exploded beneath him, throwing him ungracefully backwards. He landed heavily, managing to roll aside just before the next rifle shot struck the earth next to his head. Oska flinched away as shards of shrapnel and stone stung his face. When he shadowstepped again, his left cheek was dripping with blood.

There was one consolation, Oska thought, as he slipped into invisibility and began to circle to Spark’s other side. The charr wasn’t toying with him. She had every intention of killing him, exactly as she’d said.

The blood had reached Oska’s chin and he swiped it away with a savage grin. He knew what it was like to be underestimated; his foes had been doing that all his life. It was nice, sometimes, to be taken seriously instead.

He continued to circle, straining to hold his invisibility together. Spark reloaded her rifle with a snap, then flung a handful of glittering missiles into the air. Oska scrambled out of reach, but none of the mines exploded ‒ and Spark wasn’t looking his way. Her rifle was still trained towards her left, where she’d seen him last. To her right, she’d peppered the ground with three more turrets, all of them whirring uselessly.

Oska came to a stop, his invisibility finally failing. He was just out of reach of the turrets, but not of Spark’s rifle. All it would take was a slight turn of her head…

Except Spark didn’t turn. She kept the rifle pointed towards her left, the turrets covering her other side, as though…

Oska realised he was holding his breath. The turrets hadn’t locked onto him, but neither had Spark ‒ because she couldn’t see him. Every time she’d attacked, Oska realised, she’d kept him on her left side, turrets and other traps on her right. It was easy to miss because she moved so quickly and the turrets kept up a constant barrage of shots, but they were there for a reason. They filled Spark’s blind spot, the one he doubted anyone else even knew existed.

Spark finally began to turn, leaving no more time for reflection. Oska stepped into shadow, nipping past the closest turret, and coming out behind Spark’s right shoulder. She heard him, of course ‒ you couldn’t trick a charr’s hearing ‒ but it was too late. Oska already had a dagger pressed to the middle of her back.

“One wrong move and this goes through your spine,” he panted. “Drop the rifle. Now.”

It landed on the ground with a soft thud. Oska couldn’t reach to kick it away, but it didn’t matter. He jabbed his second dagger into the soft flesh beneath Spark’s shoulder, forcing her to move with him. Behind them, the three turrets gave a last handful of pops and exploded in a shower of sparks.

Oska knew he’d have to act quickly. His daggers were sharp, but a swipe of Spark’s claws could almost take his head off. He had to put her down before she decided to test her reflexes against his own.

“Tell me where Auri is,” he said, pressing both blades hard enough to make Spark grunt, “and I’ll make it quick.”

Spark snorted. “You won’t kill me, little mouse. You’re good, though, I’ll give you that. How did you know?”

“That you can’t see on your right side? You kept filling the blind spot with turrets and you missed me even when my invisibility failed.”

“It’s an old injury,” Spark said, softer now. She paused, then added, “Weir usually covers for me.”

“Not any more. You’ve burnt that bridge to dust. Tell me where my sister is.”

“You don’t need me to tell you that, mouse. Besides, you talk too much.”

An elbow collided with Oska’s gut, throwing him backwards. He recovered his balance in an instant, but Spark was already turning, her claws sweeping towards his face.

But Oska had been ready for her. Before Spark’s blow could connect, he darted forwards, burying his dagger right in her gut.

The blade went in cleanly. Spark froze, claws still outstretched. When Oska glanced down, blood was already spilling over the hilt of his dagger and dripping to the parched ground beneath. He released his grip, letting Spark stagger backwards. Her claws closed around the dagger’s handle, her fur turning instantly red. She knew better than to pull it out.

Oska straightened, tossing his offhand dagger into his right hand. “You’re right about Auri,” he said, as Spark sank to the ground. “I can feel her, right where those burnt trees form a line. But you’re wrong about the rest. I meant to kill you all along.”

“Then why haven’t you done it?” Spark’s grip flexed on the bloody dagger. The fact that she hadn’t yet fallen on her face was a testament to charr strength. “One good medkit and I’ll be back on my feet.”

“I think it’ll take more than that.” Oska’s lip curled. “I haven’t killed you because I’m going to retrieve my sister. When I find out what you’ve done to her, I’ll know how much I’m going to make you suffer.”

Except when he retrieved Auri from the line of trees, she was completely unharmed. She’d certainly been drugged ‒ her eyes were huge and dark, her head lolling ‒ but she’d been tucked into a comfortable nest of dry grasses between the trees. She greeted Oska with a dreamy smile.

“You came,” she murmured, gripping Oska’s hand. Her fingers were cold, specks of glowing ice still clinging to them. It was a wonder Spark hadn’t noticed. Perhaps, Oska thought, he hadn’t been the first to see Spark’s blind spot, after all.

Oska tipped Auri’s head up towards the light of the setting sun. “She hasn’t hurt you?”

Auri blinked slowly. “Spark? She’s my friend.”

“She’s not,” Oska said, through gritted teeth. Everyone was a friend in Auri’s world, though. Every scrap of trust the two of them had inherited had ended up in her. “Wait here. Don’t try to move until the drugs have worn off. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Oska tried to rise, but Auri dug her freezing fingers into his arm. “Don’t kill her, Oska. All she wants is for Tyria to be safe. She doesn’t deserve to die.”

Oska prised his arm free and let Auri sink back to her knees. Her eyes were still wide, now staring up at the evening’s first stars. How many times had he been told his sister was dangerous? How many people believed she was a threat to the world? Spark certainly wasn’t the first to make herself their enemy ‒ but she was definitely the closest.

He hadn’t realised how much he was wavering, though, until he got back to the ridge. Spark had indeed produced a medkit, but the bandages she’d wrapped around her middle were already soaked and the ground was black with her blood. She didn’t try to rise as Oska approached. She looked as though she’d finally given up.

“Auri wants you to live,” Oska said roughly. Letting her out of his sight was as painful as taking a stab wound himself, but he didn’t want her to see what might come next.

“Do you always listen to what your runt of a sister wants?” Spark retorted, but there was no heat in it.

“I listen,” Oska replied, “because she’s the best of us. If it was up to me, you’d be dead already.”

Spark gave a harsh laugh, but it quickly turned into a hacking cough. By the time she was finished, her teeth were stained red.

Oska felt all the rage drain out of him. He had Auri back. She was safe; even Spark hadn’t hurt her. And Oska realised, now, that he almost felt sorry for the charr. She was all alone. Everyone from her guild to her closest friend had abandoned her ‒ or perhaps she’d abandoned them. She was on the edge of death and despite Auri’s exhortation, Oska was no longer sure he could save her.

Spark’s head came up, as though she could feel the weight of his gaze. Her teeth were bared. “Don’t pity me, mouse. Don’t you dare.”

Oska returned her snarl. “Too late.”

He dropped to his knees almost without meaning to and began rummaging through his pack. He didn’t have healing magic, but maybe he had more bandages, potions, something that would stem the flow of blood…

He was still rummaging when he heard the click of a pistol being cocked, barely three feet from his head. Oska’s hands fell still as Ruby’s voice cut through the night.

“Congratulations, little cousin. You caught her. Now, are you going to do the honours, or am I?”