Free Six Celestial Swords by T. A. Miles Page B

know you can cast a quick spell when you have to, but I think I’d feel better if I knew you were carrying that fancy blade of yours.”
    “I have it,” the mystic answered with no enthusiasm.
    Fu Ran drew his great sword from the harness at his back and a grin peeled slowly across his face. “Let them come.”
    They did.
    It began with grappling lines. Xu Liang forced two back with a quick burst of wind and one failed to reach on its own, but three were successful, their metal ends digging into the wooden railing of the Pride of Celestia . The ships drifted closer and the men aboard the Fanese vessel readied a wide plank to lay across the shrinking distance. The Aeran bowmen fired and were fired upon. Ensuing cries of pain indicated that they had hit their mark and also been hit themselves. The survivors on both sides continued, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the plank coming down, clattering against the deck. The ruckus continued as the first wave of boarders trod over it.
    Fu Ran was there to receive them, swinging his enchanted blade in wide arcs, sweeping several of the enemies overboard at once. Those that landed on Pride’s deck were intercepted by others of the Aeran crew, including their captain, who wielded her light blade expertly against two slightly dazed but nonetheless dangerous Fanese bandits.

    XU LIANG LIFTED Pearl Moon , watching the pale, sleek blade glimmer along the edge, as if with anticipation. Somehow it knew when it was needed, and it was eager to answer the call to duty. Perhaps too eager, but there was no choice. Xu Liang was well aware that he had brought this danger upon the Pride of Celestia . He would defend her, by whatever means necessary.
    The bodyguards shifted around Xu Liang, preparing to receive a handful of oncoming bandits that had evaded Fu Ran’s welcome. Blades crossed. Xu Liang fell into an unnatural stance that somehow felt natural to him while he held Pearl Moon in his grasp. He had never been fond of fighting, not even in practice, but he had accepted his training as a youth because Xu Hong would have it no other way.
    ‘A brush and ink pot will not save you from an assailant,’ his father had said more than once, long before his frail, studious son had even considered taking up a study in magic. Even so, Xu Hong would not have been satisfied relying on any element other than iron or steel to shield one of his clan. Today, as so many days before it, Xu Hong’s insistence proved worthwhile.
    A bandit crept around the occupied bodyguards and came at Xu Liang. Xu Liang closed his hand tighter around the hilt of his sword and caught the green and blue tassels swinging in the corner of his vision as he blocked the high blow. The pale magic glow radiated from the edge of the blade and hummed as it deflected the common iron used by the bandit.
    A space was put between combatants. Xu Liang took advantage as he saw another of the man’s allies coming, cutting low before the bandit could strike again. The man fell to the deck and Xu Liang spun away from the next attacker, feeling the air separate with the bandit’s fierce swing, just missing him. Xu Liang did what the moment commanded, then moved on to the next foe, giving himself to the blade’s fervor, recalling a proverb inspired by the Goddess Mei Qiao: When the Moon rises over darkness, she does so fiercely and without remorse.

    SEVERAL FEET AWAY from Xu Liang, Fu Ran roared with laughter that put hesitation into the movements of his multiple opponents. He batted three more into the sea with the flat of his blade, hearing the crack of at least one ribcage. He elbowed the skull of another attacker who was attempting to jab his side while it was left momentarily unguarded by his swing. The man dropped to the deck and Fu Ran turned his head just in time to catch a blur of many colors rushing by him as a bandit leapt down from the deck railing.
    “You missed!” Fu Ran gloated.
    His grin became a frown when he felt warm