Page 52 of Last of Her Name

I dump the rest of the antidote into Riyan’s mouth, unsure how much actually makes it down his throat. Just as the first soldier raises his weapon to shoot, I step in front of Riyan, shielding him. My own gun is trained on the soldiers.

“Get out of my way,” I warn.

“Just stun them both,” the pilot says. “We’ll sort them out later.”

I fire.

Just like in the range, something takes control of me. I give in to it completely, watching my arm move on its own. The gun fires six rapid shots, nonlethal pulses that fly faster than my eye can even follow. Six soldiers hit the ground, unconscious.

“Oh,” I breathe, staring at the gun, my hand beginning to tremble. Then I shake myself, forcing my limbs back into action. I try to get Riyan to his feet, but his muscles are rigid. I manage to drag him to the door before I fall to my knees, panting.

“The guy who can bend gravity, too heavy to carry,” I groan. “Nice time to be ironic, Riyan.”

Hearing shouts, I look up and see more soldiers coming down the steps. I drop the tensor and start firing, but there are too many. For every one I hit, two more appear. They start shooting back, nonlethal pulses only. I pull back into the cell, dragging Riyan with me.

“Blast!” My gun’s run out of charge. The soldiers scattered in the corridor are too far away for me to grab theirs. I have Riyan’s staff, but it’s just plain wood, not an electric one like the vityazes use.

Letting out a frustrated growl, I drop my useless weapon and stand up. Maybe I can at least bargain for Riyan’s life.

“I’m coming out!” I call. “Don’t fire!”

Slowly I step into the corridor, one leg at a time to be sure they’re not going to blast me into unconsciousness. When nothing happens, the rest of me follows.

Zhar stands flanked by her soldiers, her eyes like black holes.

“This was foolish, Anya.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that. I’ll come nicely, just swear you won’t hurt Riyan.”

“You’re not in a position to bargain, Princess.” She turns to the soldiers. “Grab her. Execute the tensor. He’s too dangerous to keep any longer.”

“No!” I shout, taking a step forward—only to see my foot fly away from me as I go weightless.

With a startled yelp, I pitch forward, my momentum taking me into a full, midair somersault. I bump against one wall and rebound to the other, while ahead of me, the soldiers and Zhar are all lifting up and tangling together. Someone fires, probably by accident, and the pulse hisses past my ear.

“He’s awake!” Zhar shouts. “Drop him!”

Then Riyan is there, grabbing my hand and yanking me behind him. He has no trouble navigating his zero-g stress field. His robes float around him, but he walks along the floor as naturally as if he were planetbound, his staff striking the floor with every step. I set down behind him, able to stand once more, while the soldiers collide and twist in the air over the stairs.

“Finally!” I’ve never been more relieved in my life.

He tosses me a look over his shoulder, his eyes masked with black spidery lines, his irises tinted silver. “Keep hold of me, Princess.”

He needn’t tell me; his grip on my hand is so strong I couldn’t break it if I wanted to. Riyan starts toward the soldiers, pulling me along, his other hand thrown forward.

The air cracks, the corridor tessellating into a kaleidoscope around us, crunching and splintering. The soldiers and Zhar drop, pinned down the way Riyan took out the guards on Sapphine. But we are unaffected.

Until my hair starts to fall sideways.

Riyan plants a foot on the left wall, and with a shout, I follow, as he tilts gravity around us. I find myself walking along the wall as if it were the floor, while my head spins and my stomach threatens to mutiny. He uses his staff to push off the walls, guiding us through the low gravity. Then he tessellates again, and this time, we drop to the ceiling. I shut my eyes briefly, try to reorient my mind, and then open them again. It helps, but not much. It still feels completely wrong to be walking along the ceiling while the soldiers writhe beneath us. Zhar is on her back, and as we walk over her, I look up to lock gazes with her. Riyan’s stress field makes it seem like I’m staring at her through a pane of cracked glass.

“I … will … find you,” she grates, fighting for breath.

Riyan puts us down when we reach the second level, and I have to take a moment to reorient myself. Riyan leans on his staff, trembling. He manages to warp the metal of the door to the cells, a temporary block against Zhar and her soldiers, but then he collapses to his knees, panting. Sweat rolls down his face.

“Can you keep going?” I ask.

He nods. “But I won’t be able to do much more. Too weak.”