The Diamond Isle

The woman had gone. He sca

In the doorway, a bizarre scene unfolded. The woman stepped smartly to one side, leaving an impression of her shape etched in the air. Rapidly, the outline filled. Bones, viscera, organs, arteries and veins appeared, then a casing of flesh. The blank face of her double took on features, which as they clarified strongly resembled the woman herself, though on closer inspection they displayed a more masculine set. Finally, clothes formed, identical to the garb the woman wore. The resultant being could have passed for her twin brother.

The doorway where the pair stood was gloomy, so it took Disgleirio a few seconds to notice something else. Some kind of fine web co

He had never seen a meld before, but knew he must be looking at one now.

The twins exchanged affectionate smiles, and in unison walked out into the street. Curiously, both of them seemed to have a slight limp.

There were less people about, the bulk of the mob and their pursuers having moved on. But there were still enough to make Disgleirio worry for their safety.

His fears were justified.

The twins were staring at him. She made a comment Disgleirio couldn’t hear, and they laughed. Then she started to march his way. At the same time, something remarkable happened.

At first, her twin didn’t move. Then slowly, with all the ease and lightness of a child’s kite, he rose from the ground. When he reached the first storey of the building, he levelled, stretching his arms and legs out straight. The next second he was slicing through the air.

Qui

Disgleirio watched in horror, to the extent that he momentarily forgot the woman. Then a movement caught his eye. She was almost upon him, charging, sending her sword in a great swipe that he had to jump aside to avoid. Their blades collided and the duel restarted.

Meanwhile, the glamour-twin soared over cowering bands of citizens, raining fire down on them. A buggy ploughed through the scene, the driver desperate to escape. The twin disgorged a spume of flame at it, and carriage and driver went up like tinder. The spooked horse, towing a blazing funeral pyre, surged in panic. With a grinding crash the buggy overturned, spilling its grisly load. The horse galloped on, dragging the burning remains and scattering onlookers.

Somebody loosed an arrow at the airborne man from an open window. His fiery breath charred the bolt before it hit. Veering, he headed back. Another arrow skimmed his way, but it was sufficiently off target for him to ignore. He turned his wrath on the archer, huffing flame through the open window and converting him to cinder. The room blazed, venting oily black smoke.

Disgleirio was only dimly aware of the slaughter. He was embroiled in a swordfight he was begi

They fought on, each seeking a chink in the other’s guard. Had either of them been a lesser talent the game would have been over long since. As it was, Disgleirio feared her staying power would be the decisive factor.

But as they fenced, he formed an impression. He could have been deceiving himself, but he got the feeling she wasn’t finding him as easy a mark as she thought. Self-deception or not, it gave him heart. His pace went up a notch. He dared to hope.

In the event, his determination wasn’t put to the ultimate test. He became aware of a vibration underfoot. It soon translated to the sound of thundering hooves. A large body of riders was approaching. His opponent heard it, too, and as though obeying some silent signal, they disengaged and backed away from each other.

Other sounds began to overlay the hoof-beats. Shouting, screams, the pounding of boots on cobbles. Disgleirio and the woman turned towards the source. Several hundred people were ru

A handful of lead ru

Somebody grabbed his arm and held on tight. He struggled violently, then saw it was the wounded Bladesman he’d ordered away. Following his lead, half dragged, he fought his way across the pugnacious flow of humanity. They eventually broke out onto a less densely packed stretch of pavement. The Bladesman hauled Disgleirio across it and into a gap between two decrepit shanties.

‘Thanks,’ he panted.

‘I know you told me to leave, chief, but-’

‘Forget it. It’s a good thing you didn’t.’ He glanced at the bloodstained, makeshift cloth binding the man’s arm. ‘How is it?’

‘I’ll live. What the hell was that flying thing, chief? And the woman?’

‘I think we ran into a meld.’

‘I thought they were a myth.’

‘Apparently not.’ Disgleirio looked out at the passing crowd and the paladins harassing them. ‘We can’t do anything here. Best to get away.’

His companion nodded. ‘Er, what’s that, chief?’

‘What?’

‘Your tunic.’ He pointed.

A scrap of paper was half stuffed in Disgleirio’s pocket. He took it out and unfolded it. There was writing on it, in block capitals. They read: INVASION OF DIAMOND ISLE IMMINENT. EXPECT MORE RAIDS ON

RESISTANCE HERE.

‘What is it?’ the Bladesman asked.

‘See for yourself.’ Disgleirio showed him the note.

‘Where did it come from?’

‘I don’t know. It must have been…somebody in the crowd.’ He sca

Two blocks away, sheltering in the entranceway to a stable, Aphri and Aphrim were locked in a lingering kiss.

‘We can’t loiter here, my love,’ she whispered, gazing deep into his barren eyes.

He nodded. There was something in that simple gesture which could have been interpreted as sadness.

‘Soon,’ she promised.

He shrunk in her embrace, not in stature, but mass. His body joined with hers. She drank him.

Aphri stretched, and belched.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around, drawing her sword.

‘What the hell do you think you’re up to?’ Devlor Bastorran demanded.

She relaxed and let the sword slip back into its scabbard. ‘Just keeping my hand in.’

‘Fool. Do you have any idea the risk you’re ru

‘You worry too much. We were only disposing of a few malcontents. You should be grateful.’