Page 8 of The Sunlit Man

Auxiliary was right. Many of the survivors turned pained eyes toward the ones who had been taken. One man even screamed in a begging posture, falling to his knees, gesturing to offer himself instead. These captives all knew each other. The ones who had been taken were friends, maybe family members, of those who had survived.

Nomad’s ally started to climb down, but the contest wasn’t completely over. Not yet. Though the two other ember people had moved off after corralling the condemned, the third one—the woman with the silver in her hair—surged along the jumble of crates toward Nomad’s perch.

She wouldn’t stop until he’d been killed, he was certain of it. Well then. Time to see if he could trick his Torment. He waited tensely as the ember woman approached.

Nomad?Auxiliary asked.What are you doing?

“How heavy an object can you become?” he asked. “Without using up any of our BEUs?”

Every transformation I make uses a tiny bit of Investiture, but mostly not worth accounting. So I assume you’re asking what I can become without dipping into and greatly draining our reserves. Under those restraints, I can become a mass of metal weighing about a hundred pounds or so. Why?

Nomad waited until the ember woman was nearly upon him—leaping for his box from the next perch over. At that moment, Nomad hurled himself toward her. He raised Auxiliary over his head—worrying that he’d have to reveal his secret—and created a barbell of the maximum weight. Nomad held it in front of him, as if poised to swing it.

In response, his Torment sensed he was trying to do harm. His arms locked up. But the ember woman still slammed right into the large chunk of metal, gasping as the two of them smashed together in midair.

He essentially became another deadweight. They both plummeted to the mud below, and he landed on top of her, his barbell hitting her in the chest, his elbow smashing her throat. The combined weight drove her into the soft ground.

When Nomad stumbled to his feet, she remained down—conscious but stunned. Her ember fluttered, like an eye blinking in exhaustion.

The crowd’s yelling became a deathly silence.

“Doesn’t happen often, does it?” Nomad shouted, turning toward Glowing Eyes, seated on his balcony at the head of the arena. “Someone defeating your soldiers. Why would it ever happen,though? These are Invested warriors, and you pit them against unarmed peasants!”

Glowing Eyes didn’t reply, of course. Storms, Nomad hated bullies. He stepped forward, as if to challenge the man. As he did, however, a piercing shock ofcoldswept through him, originating at his wrists.

He looked down at the bracers he’d been given. They were leeching body heat right out of him, leaving him frozen, his muscles immobilized. He exhaled, his breath misting. He glared at Glowing Eyes—who held a device with buttons on it.

“B-bastard,” Nomad said through chattering teeth. Then fell face-first into the mud, unconscious.

When Nomad wokethis time, he found himself manacled to a wall. No…it was the outside of a boxy ship, one of those forming the arena. He’d been chained right up against the side of the thing, pulled spread-eagle on a flat piece of metal ten feet by ten feet.

It seemed he hadn’t been out for very long, though it was impossible for him to be sure with no sun in the sky. Just those dramatic, sweeping rings.

He tried to move, but was held tightly against the ship at both his wrists and ankles. The rowdy crowd was still in place, though a small ship with a podium framed by four ornate columns had settled into the center of the arena. It was open to the air and looked like its only purpose was to be a speaking platform—the small ship’s front deck giving a regal place for a leader to stand andaddress people. Glowing Eyes perched atop it, addressing the crowd, stoking their enthusiasm.

“Auxiliary,” Nomad growled. “Did I miss anything relevant?”

They moved the boxes out of the way,Aux replied.Then strapped you here. I’m trying to make sense of that speech, but I haven’t caught more than a word or two. Some of this is about you. And…an “example”?

“Lovely,” Nomad said, struggling against the chains.

I don’t think they realized or saw what you did with me,Auxiliary continued.With the barbell, I mean. The angle was wrong. So I turned into a crowbar again when they pulled you out of the mud. They examined me, then tossed me aside, assuming I was nothing important. I’m still out in the mud, off to your left.

Well, that was something. Nomad could summon the weapon at any time, making it vanish, then appear in his hands. The bonds on his wrists were tight, but Auxiliary could become all kinds of odd shapes. One might work for freeing Nomad. But if he wasn’t in immediate danger, then there was no reason to reveal what he could do. So for now, Nomad considered other methods. Perhaps if he broke his thumb, he could get his hand out, then let it heal. Unfortunately he healed fractures much more slowly than bruises.

Movement off to his left caught his eye. He turned his head as well as he could and noticed a swiveling black box with a blinking light. A security camera? It lingered on him for a moment, then rotated away toward the podium.

Glowing Eyes’s voice rose to a crescendo as he gestured to Nomad. Damnation. Even if he could get free, he still had on the bracers that froze him. And he was still surrounded by enemies that he couldn’t fight and cameras that could track him. What good would it do to get a hand free in such a situation?

You might be in real trouble this time,Auxiliary said.

“You think?”

Do I think? I’m not sure. Depends on your definition.

“You know, I liked you much better when you were alive.”

And who is to blame for that?

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