Page 135 of Cage of Starlight
“Anyone who’s any use at offense, face this way!” Tory says. “You’ll need to be ready when—”
The shield breaks down. Spark blinks into view in front of the exhausted Fielder and reaches for his skull. An attack from a frightened Kineticist goes high and wide, and Tory scrambles for Spark’s energy, but it’s odd and difficult to handle in the split second she activates it.
“Spark, wait.”
Her Seed flickers out before she can use it and she pouts at the speaker.
Fury boils in Tory’s gut as Riese Larsen strides over the ground toward him, hair tied back and sweater knotted around his waist, short sleeves baring the red tattoo.
Tory promised to gut him slow; it’s a promise he intends to keep.
“Glad to see you. You’re injured. I was worried!” Riese says, andoh, he doesn’t know Sena’s here. He still thinks Tory is an ally, thinks Tory doesn’t know. “Everyone, stand down. Tory—”
“I’m glad to see you, too.” Tory paces over, offering Riese his most beatific smile. “I wanted to thank you personally.”
Riese’s bland expression slackens. “Oh?”
Tory winds up and punches him in the mouth. He goes down like a sack of Thatcher’s brick mix.
Travin and Spark gasp, but Riese’s last order was tostand down, so they’re dazed and slow to respond, their own instincts battling his compulsions. Tory takes advantage of that, using his teeth to tear a strip of cloth from his ugly, hateful shirt. He’s on Riese from behind, sliding the makeshift gag between his teeth before he can even roll onto his side and knotting it so tight and so many times behind his head that he might’ve broken some teeth.
Riese makes a startled, gurgling noise, but no words come out. His hands rise to tug at the gag, but Tory yells, “Something to tie him with!” and someone in the group he led here flings a belt over.
Riese’s people must have gathered their wits, because he feels the whiz of Seed-enhanced Kinetic energy coming at him, and he flings it back at its source, barely pausing when he hears a terrible choked noise.
He wrenches Riese’s hands behind his back and loops the belt around them over and over, uncaring how tight the bonds are. Riese won’t be alive long enough for it to matter.
He steps back when it’s done, just in time to see someone flicker in behind Spark and Travin. Wide, dark hands settle on their shoulders, and both of them stagger and drop.
Jeffra steps over them in her bright yellow apron, halo of curls still held back with a polka-dot band. “Tory.” Her hands fall on her hips, and he feels inexplicably chastised. “Did I or did I not tell you to keep yourself out of trouble?”
Her words—and the wry smile that accompanies them—pull a broken laugh from Tory.
Niela, Iri, and Dr. Helner step out from behind Jeffra, and Prentice waves from the back. “Special Diet Junior!” he calls affectionately, straggly gray-brown hair wrapped in a hasty bun and face soot-streaked. “Remember me?”
Helner kicks Travin, plum-painted lips pursed. “I could’ve pulled out his kidney, Jeffra.”
Jeffra glares. “And make me fix him later? What if we need another Porter?”
Prentice waves his hands. “I’m plenty enough Porter to go around, thank you.”
Tory blinks down at Travin, crumpled on the ground, then up at Jeffra, who’s supposed to be aHealer. “Wait, aren’t you gonna . . .?”
Jeffra peers at him, eyes narrowed. “I know the body inside and out, young man. A little medical coma is nothing to me.” She nudgesTravin with a foot. “He’ll live. As for that one . . .” she gestures at Riese. “What didhedo to deserve your ire?”
“He’s the one who—” Tory bites his tongue. “Sena. What happened to Sena was his fault.”
Jeffra’s warm demeanor goes ice-cold so fast Tory shivers. Thoughtfully, she says, “I’ll bet he doesn’t know a Healer can make a body feel pain so intense it can drive men to madness. Let me take out that gag. I think I might like to hear him scream.”
Tory grabs her arm before it reaches the cloth. “Don’t. He can make a person believe anything he says.”
She stops. “Ah. Do we kill him, then?”
“Of course we kill him.” Iri stomps over, sleeves rolled up to bare the scars that lick up his hands and forearms. “He threw me out on a battlefield to die for a cause it turns out I don’t believe in, soyouare all welcome to argue ethics, but I’m going to fry him.”
Helner smiles. “I at least deserve to pull out his spine before you do your thing. You’re not the only one he used.”
“Spine’s too quick.” Iri makes sparks and rolls a little ball of flame from hand to hand. “Let me sear him on both sides first.”
