Page 36 of The Chef

Char didn’t know what made him look up again, nor how he noticed the dark shape partially obscured behind the shine of the bright lights, but when the shadow tensed and leaped, Char shouted and shoved, sending Fen sprawling out of the way of the long knife that slashed the air where he had just been standing.

The dark stranger straightened from where they had landed and then lunged, the knife aiming for Char, who was able to deflect it, his hands and arms glowing bright blue. The knife’s edge suddenly took on a red sheen—assassin’s magic. This time when the stranger lunged, the knife slid right through Char’s magic, scoring a deep line across the back of his arm in a flare of pain that had Char yelping, his tears already streaming.

“Char!” Fen yelled. He slid between Char and the stranger, slashing with a sword glowing brilliant gold. The red knife slid aside, parried easily as the royal magic overpowered the assassin’s.

They were surrounded, Char realized. Fen, Ralph, and the half-dozen guards they had brought along were fighting at least fifteen assailants. The narrow alley hampered everyone. Swords were too long to swing properly, and they kept bumping into each other. Even the assailants appeared to regret their choice of ambush location since all fifteen couldn’t attack at once. Only the stranger with their long knife, rather than a sword, and thetwo kids, who also only had knives, weren’t having trouble. Karl and Emily darted between the fighters, slashing and stabbing as they went, dropping assailants with far more ease than the seasoned guards.

Char stood in the middle of it all, clutching at his arm and feeling helpless, trying to stifle the tears still streaming down his cheeks. He was a chef, not a fighter, but there had to be something he could do to help. Someone had left a knife on the ground. Char scooped it up with the hand of his uninjured arm and glanced around, hoping to find some way to help.

Everywhere he looked was absolute mayhem. Fen was fighting the stranger, his gold-glowing sword clashing against the red-glowing long knife. The longer reach of the sword was hampered by the tight confines of the alley, but Fen was clearly the more skilled of the two so it wasn’t hampering him much. Ralph took on two fighters, and as Fen watched, he skewered the one on the left, kicked her off his sword, and turned to engage the one on his right. Karl darted between the fighters, slashing and jabbing with a bloodied knife in each hand. He got one fighter in the side, the man immediately collapsing and letting the royal guard turn to another opponent. Emily was... Char cast around, trying to figure out where she was, and finally caught sight of her as a group of fighters moved past Char and deeper into the alley. She was creeping up behind one of the assailants, who had cornered a guard against a trash bin. Slow and stealthy, like a cat. Except, behind her was another attacker, grinning. He swung his blade as Char dived forward, and the metal slid harmlessly off Char’s blue-glowing arm.

A scream from behind him said Emily had found her mark, but Char couldn’t turn to look. All his attention was focused on the man in front of him who slashed and stabbed at Char, snarling when his short sword bounced harmlessly awayfrom Char’s exposed flesh. The last slash sent the man’s arm careening wide as the impact with Char’s magic sent the sword skittering away. Char saw the opening and took it, lunging forward.

Stabbing a human wasn’t all that different from stabbing a side of beef. An initial puncture through the skin, then resistance that tried to punch the knife back at Char—the hilt sliding in his hand until he tightened his grip—and then smooth gliding as the knife reached the softer bits inside. However, dead animals didn’t let out a terrible scream, nor did hot blood start gushing and flowing over Char’s hand, making his already tenuous grip too slick to hold onto as the man jerked back. The man stumbled back another step, Char’s knife sticking out the right side of his stomach, and gaped, his mouth open like a fish out of water.

And then, suddenly, the alley was full of guards. Zain strode into view, and Char let out a heavy sigh of relief. One of the attackers lunged for her, and Zain casually slapped him aside, her gauntlet slicing his face open, and her strength sending him slamming against the alley wall. He lay where he fell.

“I leave you alone for five minutes!” she snarled.

Emily popped up at Zain’s side, the baby chick returning to her mother, as Zain walked through the fighting as if she were strolling through a meadow on her way to a picnic. She glanced at Char, covered in blood, most of which wasn’t his own, and lifted an eyebrow, but she quickly focused on Fen.

“What are you doing, boy?” she snapped, her voice booming through the alley. “Stop prolonging the fight!”

Fen let out a long sigh and rolled his shoulders as if they were tight. “Do you surrender?” Fen asked.

The stranger didn’t reply, charging forward as his knife traced a pattern in the air. Fen stepped into it and leaned tothe side so the knife passed harmlessly to his left. Char didn’t see him move, but the golden sword was suddenly sticking out the other side of the stranger. More blood flowed, and the body collapsed, boneless, as it slid off the sword to flop on the ground.

“Bring one of those lights over!” Zain commanded as she strode over to Fen, who was bending down. He freed his sword first, then used the tip to drag the dark hood away from the stranger’s face. Sightless gold-brown eyes stared out of a face frozen in a snarl. Familiar, gold-brown eyes. Char turned just in time to see Karl step forward, the same colored eyes gazing down at the dead man.

“Was he my father?” Karl asked, his voice tight with what sounded like anger.

“If I had to guess,” Fen replied after a moment of thought, “I would say this is probably your uncle. Baron Whistfield is more likely to be your father, since he would have the motivation to hide bastard children. His wife is the younger daughter of an earl who would be very displeased—in terms of continuing to fund Whistfield’s political and social calendar—to find out he’s cheating on her. If I remember correctly, though, this is Lord Oliver.”

“Oliver is his older brother’s stooge,” Zain cut in. “I’m going to take a contingent to go and have a chat with dear Baron Whistfield if you think you can stay out of trouble for long enough, that is,” she added to Fen. Fen quirked an eyebrow at her, and she sighed. “With your permission, Commander.”

“Permission granted.”

She saluted and trotted off, about half her guards going with her. Fen turned to Ralph next.

“I want the prisoners interrogated and the bodies searched. And we should make sure to prepare Lord Oliver’s body for his brother’s viewing.”

Ralph saluted and started calling out orders, striding off down the alley toward the dead end where a group of surviving attackers was being searched for weapons. Fen turned to Char next, frowning heavily as he took in the blood and dirt covering Char from head to foot.

“The red magic got you, right?” Karl asked as he hurried to Char’s side. His hand glowed red briefly as he held it over Char’s injured arm. The pain vanished immediately, fading away as if he had never been injured, and Char let out a relieved sigh.

“I think all of us need to go home, take a bath, and get some sleep,” Fen said. Apparently, Ralph had filled him in about the kids’ magic, because he didn’t miss a beat due to surprise. He finally led the way out of the alley and into the street. Horses had scattered everywhere, but Fen whistled, and the one he usually rode trotted over. Fen mounted and pulled Char up to sit behind him. A second guard came over with another horse. He hoisted Emily up into the saddle, climbed up behind her, and then yanked Karl up to sit pillion behind him.

Char fell asleep during the ride, Fen’s hand over the arms Char had wrapped around his waist pretty much the only thing that kept him in the saddle. He was groggy when they dismounted but followed where Fen led, which was eventually to a large bathing room with both an overhead shower and a sunken tub.

Char stepped into the hot water flowing from the shower spigot, letting it run over his body. Blood dripped off him, turning the tile floor first red and then pink, before the water ran clear again. Char was shaking, he realized, as he stepped aside to let Fen reach the water and to get some soap. Fen stoodunder the water for only a brief couple of seconds to let the outer layer of blood and dirt wash off before gently grabbing Char and pulling him into his arms.

“It’s okay. We’re all okay,” Fen whispered into Char’s hair, holding him tight as those simple words released a torrent inside Char. Tears flowed, dripping down his cheeks to be washed away by the water exactly the same as the blood had done.

“I killed a man,” Char said, his voice broken and choked. “I felt the knife go into him, and then all that blood, and he was dead.”

“I saw what you did; you saved Emily’s life,” Fen cut in. “You stopped a man who would have enjoyed killing a child. And that’s after saving my life.” He paused, one hand stroking down Char’s back. “It’s good you feel guilty. That means your soul is still intact. But you shouldn’t let that guilt define you because what you did was for the right reasons. No one would ever fault you for that, so don’t fault yourself.”

Char listened to Fen’s soft, gently cajoling voice and finally his tears slowed. He turned his face up into the spray, washing away the tightness on his face, wishing the water was enough to also wash away the aching hole he felt inside. Yet, Fen’s words helped soothe that too. Char doubted it would ever completely go away, but by the time Fen released him and let Char resume locating soap, he no longer felt as if he ought to be the one arrested in that alley. When they tumbled into the bed together in the next room, Char immediately fell back to sleep, curled up with Fen’s strength surrounding him, and didn’t wake until someone knocked on the door the next morning.

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