Nightrise

that was curved like a saber with a second, shorter blade jutting out just below the hilt. Jamie reached out and grabbed it, wrenching it out of the dead man's hand, then rolled over and over, aware that the creature had hurled the spear toward him. The spear stabbed into the ground, so close to his stomach that he felt its edge against his shirt. The man-scorpion scrabbled toward him and at the same time, Jamie leaped to his feet, holding the sword in front of him. Just for a second, he felt himself gripped by a sense of unreality. It almost paralyzed him. He was facing something that wasn't human.
    He had a sword. He was in a fight to the death.
    And he wasn't afraid.
    That was the strangest thing of all. Suddenly, he knew exactly what to do, and although he had never held a sword in his life, it felt almost a part of him. It had happened the moment he had picked it up.
    Without even thinking, he had been aware of its weight, the length of the blade, the balance of it in his hand. It was as if he had somehow absorbed it into himself so that he and the sword were one.
    The man-scorpion attacked, its tail stabbing down. Jamie stepped aside and swung the sword, grinning as the sharp edge of the blade sliced through scales and skin, hacking into the stinger and cutting it clean off. The creature screamed. Poison sprayed the air. Jamie went in low, thrusting forward. This time he felt the point bury itself in the creature's body. Blood — dark red and sticky— gushed out of the wound.
    Jamie felt it splatter into his face and retched as he tasted it on his lips. But he had done it. He was still alive. He had won.
    The man-scorpion reared back, taking the sword with it. Jamie could see that it was dying but, after all, it wasn't finished yet. With its last breath, it snatched up the spear, jerking it out of the ground, and aimed a second time.
    "Die!" the creature screamed and stepped toward him.
    Jamie was unarmed. He stood where he was, poised on the balls of his feet with all his instincts alert, trying to decide which way to throw himself to avoid the attack.
    And then something whizzed through the air and the next thing he knew, there were three metal arrows jutting out of the man-scorpion's chest, between its two claws. It was thrown back, barely able to stand up. Two more arrows hit it. One bounced off its shell but the other plunged into its throat. It screamed one last time. The light in its eyes went out and it collapsed in on itself, a twitching heap of blood and poison. At last it was still.
    Jamie turned around, just in time to see a girl on a horse riding up to him with three men on horseback a short way behind. All the riders were dressed similarly to him and suddenly they reminded him of Bedouin tribesmen crossing the desert, except there was no sand and no sun. The girl was holding a bow already aimed at the corpse of the man-scorpion but, seeing she had no need of it, she lowered it and returned the arrow to a wooden quiver that was hanging behind her back. She had a black wristband and a belt with a short sword dangling down to her thigh. There was a tattered red scarf around her neck.
    A girl. She was obviously in charge. Jamie could tell that from the way the men held back, waiting for her command. And yet they were at least ten years older than her because —Jamie was trying to take this all in, one step at a time — she could have been only about fourteen or fifteen, the same age as he was. She was very small with dark eyes that were somewhere between brown and green and, he would have guessed, mixed blood…part European, part Chinese. It was quite a difficult face to work out because it was neither one thing nor another. It was also covered in grime and dirt. Her hair was black, cut short at the front, tied with another scrap of cloth at the back. She had a very slender neck. If he hadn't just seen it for himself, he wouldn't have said she'd have had the strength to fire an arrow with enough force to kill a creature that must have been at least twice her own size.
    She was looking at him very strangely. She held up a hand, signaling to the three men to stay where they were, then swung herself down from the horse and walked toward him. She stopped a few feet away, gazing at him with a mixture of wonderment and disbelief.
    "Sapling," she said.
    Jamie waited.
    "You are
    Sapling!" the girl exclaimed. She was speaking the same language as the man-scorpion and she sounded almost annoyed.
    "No. I'm