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THE KNIVES HIDDEN up Karl’s sleeves slid into his hands with practiced ease.

He squinted up at the two men through eyelids opened just enough for him to see.

When one leaned close, Karl slashed. Skin and muscle parted like a hot knife through butter as Karl slit his throat.

The other was only close enough for a stab in the leg, but Karl aimed for the femoral artery.

He didn’t know if he hit it, but the man screamed in pain and fell to the ground clutching his leg all the same.

Karl sprang to his feet just in time for six more men to dash into the room.

One on six wasn’t great odds, especially now the element of surprise was gone, but Karl wasn’t ready to show all his tricks just yet by adding his magic to the mix.

He stuck to the corner, even though the two bodies got in the way of his footing—the rest of the attackers couldn’t get to his back that way—and brandished his knives.

“This all you got?” Karl called, goading them.

The closest attacker, a woman in dark leather, snarled and dashed forward with her sword at the ready, one of the men was a step to her right, his own short sword already slashing.

Karl caught the blade of the man’s sword where blade met guard on his knife, turning it aside, and simultaneously kicked out at the woman.

She dodged back and Karl pushed with his knife, turning the man into her path.

They tangled for a brief moment, just long enough for Karl’s knife to kiss the wrist of the man.

Blood gushed, fountaining in pulsing jets over all three of them, but as the man fell, another took his place.

Five on one, but the remaining five were more cautious now.

They spread out so they wouldn’t hamper one another.

This time, when two lunged forward they were on opposite sides.

Karl slashed to his left, trying to slow that one down while lunging out of the way of the man on his right.

Metal clanged again and Karl gritted his teeth as the painful shot from the jar of the knife in his right hand flashed up his arm.

He focused to his right for a brief second, freeing his blade from entanglement with the attacker’s short sword, then stepped into a slash that had the man scrambling back, but that left his left side unguarded.

Piercing pain radiated up his left arm, locking his shoulder, then moved down, making his fingers go limp.

His knife clattered to the floor and Karl pressed his back against the wall, not sure if he dared to look at the damage and chance giving his attackers another opening.

Blood dripped at his feet in a soft plop, plop , steady droplets.

He wasn’t spurting blood like an artery had been hit, but the constant drip said blood loss was still a real concern for him.

His attackers must have come to the same conclusion because they stepped back, apparently content to wait for him to weaken so they could grab him and continue on with their original plan.

Karl glanced down and gulped. His arm wasn’t gone, at least, but the missing chunk of muscle in his outer arm, just below his elbow, was going to make holding anything with his left hand difficult.

Karl concentrated, focusing on getting the elbow to bend, but it only made his fingers shake and the pain to start throbbing in time with his fast-thudding heartbeats.

He was down to one arm—one knife—with five attackers and only minutes before he passed out—presuming the stabbing pain making him pant and wheeze didn’t get him before the blood loss did. The time for playing was long over.

Karl called on his magic, letting the red light shine down his good arm and coat the knife.

Moving was out of the question, so he couldn’t stab them with the knife to use his magic like most users of red magic did, but he was Karl Musen, baker and spy.

He wasn’t most magic users. Karl slashed the knife horizontally through the air and a red ribbon erupted in the blade’s wake before flying at the attackers with deadly aim.

The light was weaker than usual, fluctuating in a way Karl hadn’t seen since his training days. Still, where it hit caused damage. Rot and decay didn’t need much more than a touch to hurt. Three of the attackers let out screams and fell to the floor—one dead and the other two writhing in pain.

Two on one now. Karl bit his lip as his knees failed, and he dropped to the floor, the impact jarring his arm.

He saw white, and then stars, and found he was slumped against the wall when awareness returned enough for him to notice.

Blood dripped down his chin—blood he couldn’t afford to lose.

There might be only two attackers here, but the old lady was gone, and there was no telling what reinforcements she was getting.

If Karl was going to survive this, he had to conserve enough energy to get out of the shop and find help, fast.

The edges of his vision were gray, the hand holding the knife shaking, but he stabbed forward once more, releasing a jet of red light at one of his attackers. But he was too slow, the light sluggish, and the woman simply grinned as she casually stepped out of the way.

The man hissed something—a literal hiss, his human-shaped tongue slithering out from between his lips as he spoke—and the woman grinned and said something in return.

Her reply used regular words, but they made no sense to Karl.

A knife dropped to the floor in front of him, and Karl blinked at it for a long second before realizing he wasn’t holding it any longer.

The woman strode forward, swaggering and smirking.

Karl flicked his fingers at her, red magic flaring through the air, like the leftover glitter that had somehow still appeared two weeks after the school craft project Emily had inexplicably completed in Karl’s dorm room.

The woman dodged again and laughed, saying something else that didn’t make any sense.

She was a blurry figure, looming over Karl’s slumped form, yet somehow the gleam of her sharp teeth was still perfectly visible.

Karl fought not to close his eyes, fought not to succumb, but body and brain were not in agreement.

He was cold, shivering cold, and the gray in the corners of his vision was taking over.

A crashing sound, like wood breaking violently, was the only sound Karl heard as his head hit the floor and blackness overtook him.

*

“GET A HEALER!”

Warmth, not from a blanket, but from strong arms, surrounded him.

Jolting up and down—too violent for a human’s movements, so am I on a horse?

“Bring him here!” Soothing magic filled his veins, overtaking even the warmth of those arms, and finally even those vague impressions faded into true sleep.