Of Blood and Fire, page 19
Need hurry.
Will.
She landed the minute I was clear, tucked her wings in, and proceeded to glare—and puff smoke—at the soldiers crowding the courtyard’s entrance.
Seriously? I added, Stop terrifying the locals.
Is fun.
Maybe, but it’s not helping our cause for acceptance.
Don’t need their acceptance.
I motioned the medics and stretcher bearers over. You do if you want them to stop hunting drakkons.
She harrumphed but curtailed both the glare and the smoke.
Maree, a rotund woman with a wicked sense of humor and a booming laugh, hustled forward first, undaunted by Kaia’s closeness. She was an exceptional apothecary, though her true skill lay more in divining what was happening within the body to provide a clearer roadmap for those who healed and repaired with magic or knife.
She sucked in a breath when she saw Kele’s face. “Now that is going to take some repairing.”
“But it can be repaired, right?” I said, unable to entirely keep the concern from leaching into my voice.
“Anything is possible these days with magic, luck, and a skilled surgeon.” She patted my arm. “We’ll take good care of her, don’t you be worrying about that.”
“Let me know when she regains consciousness.”
“I will.” She paused. “Once you report, come see me about that head wound. I’ve got a few salves that should stop the scarring and enable the hair to regrow.”
“Could you just send them to my quarters? I’ve no time—”
“Self-care is a necessity, not an inconvenience, young woman.”
I smiled. “And regrowing a patch of hair is less of a necessity than ensuring I have enough food and shamoke in my system to fuel the next round of battles.”
Her sniff suggested she was unconvinced by my argument. I smiled and added, “Please.”
“Fine, but I’ll send a few refueling potions along with the salve. Make sure you take them.”
“I will. Thanks.”
She motioned to the medics accompanying her. Kele was taken from me, placed on the stretcher, and then hustled away. Maree padded beside her, holding Kele’s hand, already beginning her medical divination.
I sucked in a breath, then turned at the sound of footsteps. Garran, with two guards a couple of paces behind him.
I lightly saluted, and he rolled his eyes. “We’re cousins. You don’t salute.”
“You’re my king and commander—”
“And you’re our drakkon queen. I think that puts us on the same level.”
I didn’t entirely agree, because protocol did have to be maintained, but let it go for now. “Is this smoke haze witch-enhanced?”
He nodded, his gaze lingering a little on my head. “It was the Prioress’s idea. It reacts against the bird’s gold feathers, stopping them from entering. Can’t be maintained indefinitely, but it allowed us to at least concentrate on repelling the Mareritt at the main wall. Why?”
“Can this end of it be extended upward at all? We need to cover the drakkons’ exit back to the aerie.”
“Let’s go ask her.” He paused. “Will the drakkons be okay here while you’re gone?”
“Halka and Miri are here, and Kaia will behave.”
If must, she sniffed.
I fell in step beside Garran and did my best to ignore the niggling ache rising from my ankle.
Surprisingly, we headed toward the side of the palace, away from the main entry steps. He must have sensed my confusion because he said, “They’re on the roof, doing their thing.”
And the rooftop was only reachable via external stairs that could be destroyed if the second wall was ever breached. “Any news from Damon and the team?”
He nodded. “According to Leto—the earth mage that’s with them—it’s something of a maze under the mountain, though many of the tunnels and tubes are impassible.”
“Do any of them head out into Mareritten?”
“One does. It was partially collapsed, but they cleared that and went on. They’re currently, according to their last report, about twenty minutes out from re-entering that tunnel.”
Meaning they might be home before dawn, if we were lucky. “Did they have any luck uncovering what the fog was hiding?”
“Depends on what you term luck,” came the grim reply. “They weren’t able to get close enough to see what the fog hid, but they survived an encounter with a greater Mareritten force and managed to capture a Rayabar alive.”
Rayabars were basically field commanders blessed with an unusual size, strength, and intelligence, and, when in battle, fought with wildly uncontrolled, almost trance-like ferocity. There were plenty of stories of them taking out an entire squad single-handedly, and I considered myself extremely fortunate never to have come across one in all my years of patrolling Mareritten.
“How the hell did they managed to grab one of those bastards?”
“It seems he and his command were on the way to their screened encampment, and our team managed to catch them by surprise.”
“That still doesn’t explain how they captured him alive.”
“They were light on details, but I’m presuming Damon’s magic was able to restrain him before he could take his own life.”
In truth, that was probably the only way they’d have been able to keep him alive. My scouting team, as good, as fast, and as skilled as they were, could not have countered the might of a Rayabar in full berserker mode and a full host of Mareritten. “Any injuries on our side?”
“A couple. They didn’t elaborate.”
Which could well mean that the injuries received were life threatening, but there was no point in mentioning it because no one could come to their rescue out there. Not with the Mareritt at our gates and the riders circling above.
The four of us clattered up the stairs, the metal echoing underneath us, then clambered over the parapet. Garran motioned the guards to remain there, and we made our way through the ashes of buffel weed toward the two witches. The smoke rising from this rooftop came from a tower of weeds situated in the middle of a softly glowing blood circle—something I could see only thanks to the fact it was currently being refreshed by the slender witch who was spelling around it. The Prioress sat several yards away; next to her was a table on which a platter of meats and breads, a jug of mead, and a gently simmering pot of shamoke sat.
The Prioress scanned me leisurely, once again making me feel like I was being judged—probably because I was, though I suspected she greeted everyone in much the same manner, no matter how many times she’d met them previously—before her gaze rose to the burn on my head. “What in Túxn’s name happened there?”
“Got hit by acid.”
“You obviously need to duck more quickly.” Amusement lent a brief warmth to her cool, authoritative tone. “What can I do for you, Bryn?”
“Can you alter the shape of the haze layer, making it rise enough to give the drakkons cover to leave?”
“Follow the rise of the mountain at our back, you mean?”
“Yes.”
She pursed her lips for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “It can be done, but the cost will be a lessening in the potency of the current cover. We can only draw so much of our own blood before it affects our strength and our lives.”
I glanced at Garran. As much as I really wanted to say that protecting Esan was less important than getting the drakkons safely back to the aerie, I was well aware that any lessening in the smoke barrier would put the lives of those who remained in the city, looking after the needs of those defending her, in danger. And that, in turn, made me glad it was his call, not mine.
Because there was absolutely no doubt I would have acted in favor of the drakkons.
“Define ‘lessening,’” Garran said.
“It will shorten the timeframe of its usefulness by an hour or so.”
“How much longer will the protection run right now?”
“Two, at most.”
Which isn’t all that much of a loss, I wanted to say but somehow kept it back. Not my decision, I reminded myself sternly
Garran glanced at me. “How many riders were up there when you came through?”
“Ten, but we melted six on the way down. They might have called in reinforcements by now, of course.”
“If they were going to call for reinforcements, they would have done so when our air mages blew half their number back to wherever they came from.” He returned his gaze to the Prioress. “Let’s do it. I’ll have the air mages standing by for when it fails.”
She nodded. “We will need an additional boar to fuel the magic.”
“I’ll organize for one to be brought up.”
As he stepped back and motioned one of his guards forward, my gaze rose to the smoke billowing from the rooftop. “Is there any means of creating a portable shield along similar lines as either this smoke barrier or the one that protects the aerie? It would be handy to have something that would protect our drakkons from at least the birds, if not their acid weapons. I know Damon—”
“Damon is a blood witch of unusual power and can achieve what few aside from myself can,” she cut in, “but unless the bonding of drakkon and fire witches is no longer a priority—”
“And it is.”
“It would not be possible,” she continued crisply. “Beyond that, we witches are not trained—and indeed have no desire—to enter the field of war, and that is what it would take to sustain such a barrier.”
“So there is no magic—”
“Magic will not win you this war. Only courage, strength, and the bonds of kin and love have any hope of doing that.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That sounds like a prediction.”
Her eyebrows rose, lazy amusement briefly running through her expression. “Perhaps it is. Perhaps I have seen multiple possibilities and have no clear idea which one will prevail.”
“Well, here’s hoping it’s the one where we come out the winners,” Garran commented.
“Well, none of us are praying for the opposite.”
No, but the fact that the possibility of Esan losing this war very much remained on the table was not at all comforting. “How long will it take to raise the smoke?”
“It will take as long as it takes, young woman. We do not work miracles, no matter what some seem to think.”
Her tart tone had a smile tugging at my lips. “Then I will do my best to patiently wait.”
“And we all know that, when it comes to patience, your best runs to minutes rather than hours, especially now you have bonded with the most impatient of drakkons.”
Am queen, Kaia commented. I order, it should be done.
The human world doesn’t always work like that, Kaia.
Should.
With my smile growing, I thanked the Prioress for her help, then turned and left. Garran talked to her for a few more seconds, then jogged across the roof to catch up with me. His remaining guard clattered down in front of us, then stood to one side at the bottom of the stairs and waited, one hand wrapped lightly around the hilt of his sword.
I climbed over the parapet and motioned toward him. “The personal guards are a new development—any particular reason?”
“You could say that.” Garran’s voice was dry. “The King of Zephrine has disappeared.”
I stopped abruptly and stared at him. “What? How?”
“Apparently there was a rodent run connected to his room.”
“But why would he disappear? It makes no sense given he and his men—” I paused. “Are they still here?”
“They are. As for a reason, did he not swear vengeance on us all?”
“Well, yes, but I can’t see him personally wreaking bloody havoc. He seems more the type to send others to do his dirty work.”
“Perhaps the spectacular failure of all his careful intrigues has sent him off the deep end.”
I remembered the deeply unsettling glare he’d sent my way when we’d confronted him, and tried to rub away the chill dancing down my arms. “He surely can’t get far. He’s not an earth witch, and he has no knowledge of those tunnels.”
“We’re presuming Makki drew a map that he left with Aric.”
“Then what’s being done to recover him?”
“At the moment, very little. We dare not remove any of our earth witches from the wall until the Mareritten attack eases off, and I don’t want to run the risk of a search party getting lost, given what Leto said about it being a warren and unstable.”
“So, we just let him wander? That doesn’t seem a particularly smart move, Garran.”
“I’ve issued a capture and detain alert, and stationed guards in your room and mine. They’ll remain until he’s found.”
“And privacy be damned?”
He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “Better a lack of privacy than a lack of life.”
I harrumphed. He laughed and touched my shoulder. “Report once you’ve seen to your drakkon.”
I nodded and, as he walked away, ordered a couple of freshly killed boars to be brought in for the drakkons, though the sight of them consuming said boars wouldn’t do a lot to calm the nerves of those still crowding the edges of the courtyard.
It took about half an hour for the fog to begin to bleed upward, and a further fifteen minutes before a clear pathway developed between the mountain and the smoke.
When the peak high above us became visible, I removed the frayed rope from Kaia’s harness, gave her a final eye scratch, then stepped out from under her wings and shouted up orders to Miri and Halka to remain at the aerie overnight and do the morning flyover once the sun had risen.
Once they’d signaled the affirmative, Kaia rose on her haunches, trumpeted a command to rise, then hunkered down and launched into the air, quickly followed by both the younger drakkons and their riders. I’d braced against the wind of their departure, but many others were sent flying.
A few seconds later, Kaia said, Is clear. No gilded ones hunt us.
Meaning the smoke barrier had worked. Shame it couldn’t be employed permanently. Don’t go hunting until dawn has fully risen.
Won’t.
As they flew over the distant peak and disappeared into the waning night, I headed up the palace stairs to make my report. Garran and Neera were standing near the main troop board.
“I take it the smoke wall worked?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at my salute but nevertheless returning it.
“They didn’t see any riders as they flew over the peaks; that at least means they’re not currently coming in at us from a southernly direction.”
“Coming at us from that direction would mean going through Hopetown or the other smaller ports, and we would have warning of either by now.”
Garran returned his gaze to the troop board as recent movements were added. The trebuchets they’d been moving earlier had now been deployed, and there’d been a doubling in numbers attacking the wall, but the main force was still being held back. They were definitely waiting for something, but was that something whatever was being hidden by the fog moving down from the Ghost Forest, or had it something to do with the gilded riders and the force they were building at the Sheer? The rider we’d questioned in Hopetown had promised they’d cover Arleeon’s skies with gold, but we’d decimated their numbers up at the Sheer, and it would surely take some time to rebuild them. At the very least, they’d have to fly in more foot soldiers, and the baskets Kaia and I had destroyed out in Mareritten certainly wouldn’t have held any more than twenty or so. Even if they did have an unlimited supply of both birds and baskets, it would still take them days, at the very least.
“Any further reports from Damon and his team?” I asked.
“No, but the minute I do hear anything, I’ll let you know.” He glanced at me, understanding and perhaps a hint of amusement glimmering in his eyes. “Now, make your report, then go get yourself a bath, because you, Commander, reek of drakkon.”
“And a beautiful scent it is too,” I replied, amused.
“Only to someone with malfunctioning olfactory senses.”
I chuckled softly and made a full report; the soldier standing to the right of Neera immediately updated the board, adding additional figures to those already standing on the section representing the Sheer.
“Perhaps your attack is the reason the Mareritt have not unleashed their full force on us yet,” Neera commented. “Perhaps they wait for rider reinforcements.”
“And perhaps,” Garran said, voice grim, “they wait for something entirely different. They have not employed their mages against us yet, but I fear that will be the next step.”
I glanced at him sharply. “How many mages did they have in that encampment?”
“A dozen.”
“And were they all working with the Mareritt to reinforce those tubes with magic?”
“No.”
“Then why were they there?”
“Unknown, but it undoubtedly bodes no good for us.”
That was a truth I certainly couldn’t argue with, given what those mages were capable of. I might not have witnessed their destruction of our harbor, but I’d witnessed their attempts to bring down the mountain on the Jakarran refugees, and had also witnessed them melting and refashioning the hard black stone at Yara’s aerie with the intent of blocking in the drakkons. Our walls wouldn’t fare much better against that sort of magic. Our earth witches might have successfully curtailed their attempt to utterly destroy the harbor, but they were currently exhausting themselves reinforcing the walls against the acid.
Perhaps that was the overall game plan—perhaps the gilded riders and their mages were simply waiting for the eventual collapse of our mages before their full assault began. It would certainly explain their half-hearted assaults on our walls.
There was nothing we could do if that were true. The walls had to be reinforced—what they’d done to the war room was a mere taste of the chaos that would unfold if they weren’t.
