Page 65 of Of Blood and Bone (Chronicles of The One 2)

Mae pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Sweet Baby Jesus. I’ve seen things, during the Doom, after, since, seen things my brain said my eyes were making up. But I saw them, and I know the whole world tilted like a table with a broken leg. It’s never going back how it was.”

“No, it’s not going back. But it can, and it will, go forward. It’s harder and slower to go forward if there’s no in charge, and if people only mind their own.”

“Some are happy enough just to stick in place.”

“We buried a man on the way here, one we found hanging from a flagpole. He might’ve wanted to stick in place.”

Mae let out a sigh. “There’s a woman where you’re heading next. Her name’s Troy. First or last, I couldn’t say, but that’s what she goes by. She told me you were coming. She talked about you before, called you The One, and I didn’t pay a lot of mind. That’s her belief, and we oughta live and let. But the last time, not a week ago, I talked with her, she said you’d be coming to talk to me. You’d have a sword at your side. You’d ride a white horse, a winged horse. You’d have a white owl, a white wolf. She said you’d give me something I needed.”

Mae looked down at her arms, let out a half laugh. “Damn rash is already clearing up. Said you’d ask me for something you needed.”

“I’m asking. If you say yes—”

“If I don’t?”

“We move on.”

“Just like that?”

Fallon turned her head so their eyes met. “If we’re meant to be free, if we believe that with all we are, why would I build an army by force to fight for freedom?”

“Plenty tried just that.”

“And here we are,” Fallon finished. “You’ll make the choice. If you say yes, within six months I’ll send some soldiers to you. To help you protect your community, help train any who want to be trained to fight or contribute. I could talk to your people.”

“I’ll talk to them. For some it’ll take a lot of talking. For others, not as much. I have to think on it, and maybe have another conversation with Troy.”

“You trust her.”

“As much as anybody, more than most. I have to think on it,” Mae repeated, “and let you know.”

“All right.” Fallon rose. “We’ll stay the night with the Uncannys, if we’re welcome.”

“I expect you will be.”

“If you haven’t made up your mind by the time we leave tomorrow, I’ll come back when you have, either way.”

“How will you know?”

When Fallon just smiled, Mae shook her head.

* * *

The boy, Pete, had a stomach virus, and was well on the mend before they rode out. Out, into the thick woods and to a scatter of cabins where Troy waited.

Her curling mane of white-streaked black hair fell over her shoulders, framing a face the color of coffee beans. She had garden dirt on the knees of thin cotton pants, and a small spade in her hand.

Her eyes, dark as ebony, gleamed when they landed on Fallon’s face. “Welcome. At long last, welcome.”

As Mallick had done when she’d returned from the Well of Light, Troy went down on one knee.

“Please don’t.”

“Indulge me. We’ve waited so long. Welcome, mother, father, brothers.” She rose, walked to Fallon, laid a hand on Laoch’s head. “Welcome and bright blessings on you all.”

Others came out, men, women, children, and as Troy had done, dropped to one knee.

“Do they think she’s a queen?” Ethan whispered to his mother.

“Not a queen.” Troy smiled at him. “But a witch and a warrior, and a promise. Come, please. We’ll have food and wine. We’ll tend to your animals.”

When Fallon dismounted, Troy embraced her. “We’re your army, and we’ll help you raise more.”

It wasn’t always so simple and welcoming as that first day. Some wouldn’t be convinced, some threatened.

Some, like the big, hulking leader of a band of two hundred she met on a sweltering day in June, laughed.

“We’re doing fine here. Any bastards come around looking for trouble, they find it, and they don’t come back.”

“They will. In greater numbers.”

“Save it, sister. We know how to handle ourselves, and nobody around here’s going to fall in line behind some teenage witch. But you’ll pay the fine for trespassing. One of the horses, and the supplies on its back.”

Several dozen weapons lifted, aimed at her family. “That would make you thieves,” Fallon said coolly. “I won’t have thieves in my army.”

“I don’t see no army.”

“Then see this.” She swiped a hand through the air. Guns, knives, clubs turned red, burning the hands that held them. As people screamed, as weapons fell, she kept her eyes on the big man. “Nobody threatens my family.” She didn’t have to turn to know every member of her family now held a weapon of their own. She held up a hand.

“Wait. I’m about to make a bargain with … I didn’t get your name.”

“Fuck your bargain, little bitch.”

“Not so little. Not as big as you, but not so little. Here’s the deal. I fight you—you and me. If I lose, you get the horse and what he’s carrying. If you lose, you and the rest here train when I say train, fight when I say fight.”

She looked around. “Some of you know who I am, what I am. You’ve waited long enough. But I’ll prove myself.”

“I don’t fight little girls. I don’t fight damn witches who pull magick tricks out of their asses. And I don’t fight when I’ve got that girl’s daddy pointing a gun at my head.”

“Fair fight. No magick—my word on it, and if I break my word, I’m disgraced in front of your people. And some of your people are like me. My father won’t shoot anyone, none of my family will use a weapon against anyone who doesn’t use one against us first.”

As she spoke, she took off her sword, took out her knife, passed both to her father.

“Fallon.”

“Trust me, or they won’t. Fair fight, one on one.” She turned back to the leader, let herself smirk to rile him up. “Do you agree to the terms I set?”

“I don’t like fighting girls.”

“When what’s coming floods over you and yours, it won’t matter what shape they wear. You were ready to steal from a girl, have your people pull weapons on a girl.”

She turned the smirk into a sneer.

“Be man enough to fight one who’s ready to fight you.”

“You asked for it.”

His face already red with insult, his mouth already twisted in a snarl reminded her of some raging bull. And rage was easily countered with cold tactics.

He charged—to knock her

down, she realized. He honestly didn’t want to strike her. Her advantage was that she didn’t have the same sensibility regarding him.

She flipped back, to the side, so the momentum of his charge carried him through, had him stumbling.

Had several of his people laughing.

His face went redder. He charged again, she spun away. This time he skidded, tumbled, landed on his face.

“No magick!”

“It’s not magick, it’s training. I could train you, even though you’re more bulk than muscle.”

When he came at her again, she knew he expected her to spin or dodge. She did neither, but brought a boot up solidly between his legs. His face drained of all that burning color, and though she hated to hit a man on his way down, the point to prove was more important.

She knocked him flat with an uppercut that had her fist yelping, and her arm singing.

“You’re down.” She walked over to him while he wheezed. “Stay down. I’m better at this than you. You could be better. You will be better.”

“Kicked me in the balls.”

“The enemy would slice them off. I’m not the enemy.” She went to her father, took her sword and, drawing it, held it up so the sunlight flashed on it like fire.

“I am The One, chosen to roll back the dark. And so I will. If you’re afraid to fight, run, hide. But they’ll still find you, root you out. Join me. Face them, fight them, and when the light burns the dark to ash, you’ll be free.”

She lowered the sword, looked down at the big man now sitting up, wiggling his aching jaw with his hand. “I won’t hold you to the bargain. A warrior isn’t something to be won in a wager.”

He stared up at her. “You kicked me in the balls. And you damn near broke my jaw.”

“Damn near broke my hand doing it.” She offered the other. “Fallon Swift.”

He got to his feet, winced. “John Little.”

“Really? Like Robin Hood?”

He sighed. “Yeah. Son of a bitch. Why don’t you just turn us all into zombies and make us fight for you?”

“My zombie spell’s hit-and-miss.”

He cracked the ghost of a smile. “Don’t have one, do you?”

“Actually, I have something close enough, but I don’t want anyone I’d have to make fight with me. With me, Mr. Little. Not for me.”

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