Free The Way of the Brother Gods by Stuart Jaffe

at him," she said, pointing to the dead man. "He had nothing to do with you. All he wanted was to work for me, learn from me. He was smart, too. He would've been able to pick up wherever I left off when I grew too old to continue. The Bluesmen would never have touched him, would never have even known about him if you hadn't brought them here. You killed him."
    As Malja listened to Cole, she never looked up from the dead man. There was no point in arguing or even fighting back. She had seen such outbursts of emotion before. Nothing would change her mind. And maybe nothing should. Maybe Malja had brought this onto them all.
    Cole bent over, sobbing and taking in raspy breaths. Malja raised her head enough to see Fawbry approach Cole again. "Come," he said. "We'll get somebody to take proper care of him." This time, she let him put his arm around her. He murmured to her and she nodded. Taking short, stumbling steps, they walked back into the Dish building.
    Malja's mouth tightened in anger even as her chest shuddered to hold back any sadness. She stood in the silence, surrounded by the dead, blood and gore pooling around her feet. Maybe they were all right about her — straight on back to Jarik and Callib. After all, death seemed the only consistent result around her.
    Even Tommy.
    He was alive for now, but being with her had not saved him. She rescued him from one hellish life and brought him into her own. What good did that do? As a slave, all he had to do was make magical power for a thief's ship. He got fed, somewhat, and if he behaved, no harm came to him. With her, he had been forced to share his body and mind with Barris Mont, had been mentally and physically strained, his magic usage had wasted away his sanity, and he'd been at risk of death on numerous occasions. How could she ever have thought that it was a good idea for him to stay with her?
    An earthy aroma came from behind. She turned to find Harskill leaning against the doorway. His clean clothes, weathered face, and sophisticated aura stood at odds with the carnage painting the ground.
    "They don't understand our kind," he said. "It's not their fault. It's not prejudice or even willful hate. It's that we seem just like them on the surface, so they assume we are the same. But that's not true. The power we hold comes from far more than technological or magical advancement. Our power is borne deep within. That's why you don't fit in here even though you've been raised in this world."
    With more of a plea in her voice than she ever wanted to hear, Malja said, "I don't know who I am. I don't understand anything anymore."
    Harskill reached out toward her. "Come here. Let me show you something that will tell you exactly who you are."
     

Chapter 10
    Harskill walked a few steps ahead of Malja, his body upright with a confident gait. He turned down one corridor then another without pause. He knew this building well.
    Malja followed, her heart beating hard and her mind jumbling too many thoughts. She could hear Cole's brutal accusations echoing in her ears. She also replayed her battle with the Bluesmen, trying to pick out her mistakes that she could improve upon. It was a reflex, her brain's way of calming herself after battle. But then she thought of Harskill, the Gate, Tommy, and Barris Mont. It was too much. A gray numbness settled in.
    "In here," Harskill said, opening a door to a simple office — plain desk, two chairs, and a cabinet. Nothing on the walls; dust covered the desk. "Several floors above us is the Dish — this massive piece of technology that Ms. Watts hopes to fill with magic and create a stable portal. The amount of raw power she requires is staggering." Malja opened her mouth but Harskill raised a hand to quiet her. "To create a portal is easy. The people of this world have done it several times already. But none of those portals were stable. And with one exception, that being the portal Tommy created to send you through and then recreated to bring