The Peasant Read Free Page A

unique. Even after forty years of watching it work, I still don't know all its tricks. I do know that my talent uses ambient psychic energy to protect me by converting living molecules into stone—usually whoever attacks me.
    That day in the canyon, energy swirled around us on all the frequencies. Every time a warrior blasted one of us with talent, we twisted his own energy back on him. We left statues all over that canyon.
    That was my first pitched battle, and the Arrow Warriors fought in different ways. Electrical shields being standard issue, every warrior had one. Warriors with weaker talents and talents that can't kill—the communication talents carry too little energy, for instance—wore their shields at their belts and always had them on. Some warriors carried their electrical shields in their hands, switching them on and off as they needed. In doing so they lost the blade they might have had in the hand. Warriors with telekinesis left the shields at their belts, switching them on and off with talent. Of course, some warriors didn't need electrical shields. Their mindshields were strong enough and on frequencies diverse enough that they deflected all psychic assault. Since our talents fed off energy directed at us, my brother and I had no need for electrical shields.
    I fought my way toward Howling Tiger, leaving a trail of bodies and statues behind me. Around the commander lay charred peasants he'd burned to death with his talent. While dueling another warrior, I watched him. He fought very well, even with three arrows in the left shoulder between the back and chest plates of his armor. Dispatching the warrior I fought, I charged Howling Tiger. He deftly turned aside my blade and almost hobbled me. We parried and feinted to take each other's measure. His wounds didn't slow him at all. Then a spear caught him in the right thigh. With a scream, he hacked off the shaft, leaving the spear point embedded, then turned back to me. His distraction was so brief I couldn't turn it to my advantage. We circled and parried with blinding-fast strokes. Neither of us found a weakness. I feigned a slip to fool him. As he lunged for me, I cleaved off his left forearm and slashed to press my advantage while blood spurted from the stump. He deftly parried my attack and cauterized the stump with his talent. Stepping into a dead warrior's entrails, I truly slipped. I thought I was dead. Howling Tiger raised his sword for the killing blow but at that moment burned me with his pyrokinesis. My talent saved me again, turning Howling Tiger into a statue.
    Muttering brief thanks to the Infinite, I turned to engage another warrior. The battle continued to rage for another hour. As our rebels crushed the last pockets of resistance, I saw my brother.
    Looking insane, he cut through the remaining Arrow Warriors as if harvesting grain. Charging a warrior, he defeated him, then methodically hacked apart the body until it was beyond recognition. Brazen Bear looked possessed. Usually, I knew what he was thinking and feeling, our sibling empathy-link stronger than most brothers had. He had shut his mind with shields like steel doors. I watched as he finished with one warrior and looked around, not seeing me beside him. After he obliterated another and searched for the next, I planted myself in front of him. He'd have skewered me if I hadn't kicked the sword from his hand and slapped him.
    Waking up, he didn't say anything. Retrieving his sword, he gestured me to follow. He looked enraged about something but wouldn't or couldn't tell me.
    Brazen Bear led me to Father's body. Somehow, Father had found his way to the battlefield and tried to help. He didn't know how to wield a sword, having only watched while others had taught us. Brazen Bear told me later he'd tried to protect Father in the midst of battle but could only watch helplessly as a seasoned Arrow Warrior cut him in half. The price of victory, the Infinite's way of balancing the scales. I've