The puppy dog flinched for a second. Bingo. Time to add salt to the wound. “He didn’t care about you or your mother,” Janco said. “Left you without a backward glance. Probably has a new family in Sitia with lots of kids and a faithful dog.”
Each sentence hit the mark. Color leaked from Rye’s face.
“Then one day he uncovers information on an old scimitar he once owned. It could be the infamous Pemba. So he sneaks back into Ixia to get the weapon.” Janco guessed the order of events. “He doesn’t even want you or your mother to know he’s there. But you see him and, after he tells you everything, you kill him in a fit of rage.”
Ari looked impressed and, encouraged, Janco finished his tale. “Not wanting to take responsibility for your actions, you blame Valek for the whole mess, and plot a way to exact revenge.”
“A fairy tale,” Rye said. “No proof, and it doesn’t change the fact you’re unable to stop us.”
Good point. Janco frowned. Magic sucked. He never knew where he stood and magicians had an unfair advantage. Reading minds, moving objects, healing people, and… Click.
Janco signaled Ari to follow his lead. He glanced at his partner with a surprised smile. “Talk about good timing!” He peered over Rye’s shoulder. “Hey Valek, we were just talking about you,” he called, keeping a firm vision of Valek armed with a broadsword in his mind.
Rye swung around. Janco motioned to Ari, then stepped close to Rye. The young pup barely countered the attack.
“Nice try, but it won’t help you,” Rye said.
But Janco tuned him out. His mind flashed a chaotic array of images. He allowed instinct and years of experience to guide his movements while his thoughts hopped with random abandon.
Pemba used illusion. If Rye had actually fought six men, he would have been at least sweaty and red-faced. Combine illusion with the ability to read minds, and the result was one unbeatable opponent.
Unless you don’t think and don’t see. Janco kept his gaze on Rye’s shoulders, letting the boy’s real movements be picked up by his subconscious, trusting his training.
“Aiming high,” Ari shouted.
Janco ducked, imagining his partner pointing a blow pipe at Rye’s neck. Pemba moved to block the dart from Ari. Without thought, Janco yanked a dart from his belt and stabbed it into Rye’s leg.
Ten harrowing seconds of dodging the scimitar’s thrusts before Rye collapsed on top of Janco. Pemba knocked from his grip on impact.
Ari pulled the sleeping man off him. Brushing the dirt from his pants, Janco stood.
“How’d you keep him from chopping you into ground beef?” Ari asked.
“You know how you’re always yelling at me for not focusing and staying on topic for more than a few seconds?”
“You actually listened to my advice?”
“No. I only listen to good advice. I did what I do best.”
“Be a scatter-brained annoyance?”
Janco pouted at Ari’s word choice. “It worked.”
His partner stared at the sleeping man. “Can’t argue with that.” Ari touched the row of gashes along his forearm. “Heck of an illusion. That’s the second time you’ve seen through it.”
He puffed out his chest. “I might not be immune to magic. But I can outwit it!”
Ari rolled his eyes as Janco danced around. After his little performance, he bent to pick up Pemba.
“Don’t touch it!” Ari yelled.
He yanked his hand back. “Oh. Right.”
Ari sighed. “Just what I need. A variable-speed genius.”
The End