Scientific Sorcery

Part 38

Amaunet spit. Now the worthless man was crying. Unbelievable. For a moment, she had thought that maybe a man could hold his own in a fight. Now she realized she had been right all along. Men were good for lifting heavy objects and being protected by a woman.

And she was surrounded by so many angry men now. She could have taken on one or two... Gods, she could have killed half a dozen with her bare hands. But all at once? They were all on her, stabbing with their bayonets, shooting her with their muskets and rifles. Their gun butts were pressed into her when they fired, the explosions burned her flesh while the bullets seared straight lines through her.

She still felt the tingle of her priestess touching her neck. She still felt the healing power inside of her. It wasn't fast enough. She knew it wasn't.

As another rifle fired into her stomach, she grabbed the hot, smoking barrel in both hands. It sizzled her flesh. The man released it in shock. Amaunet swung it wild around her head, feeling muscles rip as she did so. The rifle hit a few men, but made all of them back away. That's good, she thought. Her swings didn't have the strength they did earlier.

And then she felt another tickle on her neck. It wasn't in the same place that Hunra was connected to her. This tickle was on the side of her neck. She felt more warmth in her belly. It was the warmth of another priestess healing her wounds. Then she felt another tickle on her neck. And then another.

Four priestesses. She was being healed by four priestesses.

"All right!" she bellowed. She tried not to think about her fellow Ravens on the wall. She tried not to think about how these three extra priestesses weren't healing the others and were instead healing her. What had happened to the others?

She needed to make their sacrifice count.

They had all seen the change in her face, her eyes, her posture. Her demeanor was filled with aggressive intent, and the marauders who had been attacking her were now pausing. None of them had the courage to be the first one to attack the berserk woman.

Amaunet lunged to the right. The marauder in her sights stepped back in fright, holding up his musket to protect himself. Amaunet grabbed the musket in both hands and slammed it against his face, making him release the weapon. She turned it around to face the other men. She had never fired a gun before, but how hard could it be?

She pointed it and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Had it already been fired? Frustrated, she charged forward, bayonet blade first. As she did, her hand fumbled on the base of the gun. Her finger played on the buttons there.

The sound of the musket going off made Amaunet stumble. Her left hand had been on the metal of the gun as she ran, and when the gun fired, it felt as if her hand had been smashed by a hammer. It was numb. The musket fell from her hand and plunged blade-first into the dirt.

The enemies laughed and charged at her.

Amaunet flinched and closed her eyes. She couldn't help it. She was surrounded by weapons all pointed at her. Even with the healing of the priestesses, this was going to hurt. A lot.

For two heartbeats, Amaunet waited with eyes closed for attacks that didn't come. She opened one eyelid to see.

The men in front of her were falling backwards with arrows protruding from their heads. To her left and right, men grasped arrows sticking from their chests. Behind her, she heard the battle cry of the Ravens. She spun with a wide smile.

There were five of them, silhouetted against the bright morning sky. Five of her Ravens were floating toward her, cradled by pillows of air. Their faces were fierce. Their hands were blurs as they fired arrow after arrow into the army below. Men were scattered in every direction as they approached.