One Last Bolt

Capitaine Lambert pressed the point of his saber against John’s chest, hard enough to open a shallow cut. The steady rain washed the blood down and away from the wound. Lambert nodded at Agasga Adair and said, “What will you do now, witchua? You are trapped and your son lives or dies by my decision. It appears your quiver of tricks is finally empty.”

Agasga pointed her flintlock pistol at Lambert, the rain running off it and down her steady arm.

“Your powder, it is wet,” Lambert sneered.

Agasga aimed and spoke, “Ukayodi Atsilu.” The ball punched into Lambert’s chest.