by J C Maynard
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Tallius made sure the black shadow was gone before picking up the fuse to carry to Madrick. Crashes and screams filled the Gate, but slowly died down as Tallius ascended up the staircase. The fuse was handed off to technical teams on support beams, who joined it to packs of explosives that Evertauri began to deliver and pack around the supports.
Tallius turned around the last corner and onto the designated bridge where Madrick, Calleneck, and a team of other Evertuari stood. Calleneck ran to him and helped carry the rest of the fuse. Tallius smiled. “Glad to see you alive. Where is Borius?”
“He went back down to the bottom to help continue the fight. The Pha— shadow soldiers are trying to destroy us and the rest of the Evertauri are holding them off.”
“Here, grab this; thank you. Are we ready?”
The technical team nodded in sync. Madrick emitted a wave of beating Taurimous that spread to the lowest floor of the Gate. “They’re evacuating now; once this blows, the whole mountainside could collapse.” Calleneck and Tallius finished pulling up the fuse.
An Evertauri held up a box, “We’ll connect them in here, it will give us five minutes to get out.” Tallius reached forward with the end of the fuse; his hand stopped. The technician stepped forward. “Just pull it further.”
Tallius shook his head. “It won’t budge.” Tallius leaned with it, pulling it taught. “The other teams pulled it as tight as it would go.”
“Let me try.” Calleneck tugged on the fuse, but it still had six feet to go.
Madrick shook his head. “It’ll have to be lit manually.” The group stood in silence.
“We can reconnect the first —”
“We don’t have time.” said Madrick. “The Guards here surely sent messenger birds calling for reinforcements. Cerebrians will be on their way.” The snow blew sideways onto the bridge.
The technicians turned red. “Sir Nebelle, we ran this operation and executed it according to plan — and you expect us to blow ourselves up?”
Madrick clenched his fist. “You took an oath of loyalty to —”
“I’ll do it.” Calleneck grabbed the fuse from Tallius. “I can light it.”
Tallius looked down. “So will I.”
“Tallius,” said Calleneck, “we only need one person. I can —”
“I don’t care.” he said. “We can light it together and then run as fast as we can to the far edge where the mountain is closest and the drop into the snow is the shortest.”
“Tallius, what about Lillia?”
“What about your sisters?”
Calleneck turned to a technician. “How long from the time we light it until we’re cooked.”
“Not more than a minute. The first explosions on the top levels will be minor and will happen within thirty seconds, but then the sequential explosions will be set off causing the whole Gate to fall.”
Calleneck and Tallius nodded. “For the Evertauri.”
“Are they all clear?” asked Tallius.
“They said to give them five minutes,” said Calleneck, “and it’s been that. We have to do it now.”
Tallius paused. “Cal . . . are you scared?”
Calleneck looked at the fuse in his hand. “Dozens of sorcerers died defending the revolution.”
Tallius smiled and looked at the fuse. “In life and death.”
Calleneck looked out into the blizzard and embraced Tallius. “In life and death . . . we run as fast as we can to the northern edge.”
Tallius nodded. “On your count.”
Calleneck breathed in. “One . . . two . . . three.” A burst of crimson and sapphire light ignited the fuses, and the boys drove away faster than either had run before. Faster. Faster. Calleneck and Tallius sprinted through the halls of the Gate, looking for an opening into the air. A loud bang and a burst of yellow light from behind them signaled the start of the explosions. BANG. BANG. The roar filled the Gate and echoed off the distant mountains.
“Where do we jump!”
“I don’t see.” Calleneck tore off his cloak to run faster through the frozen air. BANG. BANG. The explosions got louder and the floor began to rumble and crack. A stone archway fell after they ran through it and the floor fell away to their left. Ahead, a balcony to the outside appeared. “THERE!” A column fell as another explosion sounded. Beads of sweat flew off Calleneck’s body. The balcony drew closer, closer. The icy wind blew at them, muffling Calleneck’s shout, “Jump!”
The boys lept out into the night blizzard. The sensation of dropping stopped when the final explosion ignited. The Great Cerebrian Gate erupted in blinding flashes of orange and yellow, sending great pillars of stone flying outward. As the searing heat of the fireball approached, Calleneck cast a shield of crimson around himself. The shockwave of the eruption punched him forward as he fell, and his whole field of vision was momentarily concealed in fire.
Calleneck skipped like a stone when he hit the snow, causing his shield to vanish. Impact. Impact. Rolling down. Cold. A piece of flying stone hit his leg. He rolled through the snow for another ten yards until coming to a stop. The snow now filled his boots and covered his thin underlayer; the fireball around the Great Gate illuminated the mountain pass before turning into a thick cloud of dark smoke. Still, thundering cracks of crumbling debris echoed, but when he looked back, the great wall of black stone no longer concealed the stars. A thousand small fires dotted the snow and rubble where the Gate once stood.
Calleneck breathed in, relieved that it was done. Tallius. He shot up and looked around. Nothing but snow, rubble, and fires. “Tallius!” Calleneck pushed himself up out of the snow and sprinted back up through the snowbank. “Tallius!” He vainly looked around. “Talli-” Calleneck froze when he saw a body on fire, lying still in the snow ahead. The hair began to curl and shrivel and the smell of flesh filled the air, along with the stench of smoke.
A cold shiver ran through him as shadows began to emerge from the wreckage of the burning rubble. Phantoms. He looked at the flaming body. The shadows. The Body. His heart pounded as he stood there frozen. The Phantoms were regrouping and quickly began streaking across the mountainside toward him.
As Calleneck he looked down into the valley, he saw an enormous dome of glowing light formed with iridescent, shimmering colors. Beneath it, the Evertauri shielded themselves from the flying debris. Calleneck looked back once more at Tallius as the Phantoms raced toward him. There’s . . . there’s no time. Calleneck stumbled toward the glowing dome with tears streaming down his face. He cried out as he ran, looking back at the burning body and the shadows approaching him. The Phantoms drew closer, ready to spill his blood. Faster. He bolted through the snow toward the dome of swirling Taurimous. Closer. Closer. He could now see that the great iridescent shield of energy was cast by every remaining Evertauri, blocking them from the flying rubble.
The Phantoms were twenty feet behind, ten, five. Calleneck dove forward and passed through the barrier of light like it was mist, and a loud crash sounded behind as a shadow of black rammed into the shield. A few Evertauri rushed forward to aid Calleneck as a dozen Phantoms gathered around the outside of the dome. They darted back and forth, cursing, trying to enter the dome of light.
“Cal!” Two girls ran towards him and embraced Calleneck from behind. Calleneck, still in tears, embraced his two sisters. The shadows slowly began to leave.
Gallien turned to his platoon, whose faces glowed from the light of the dome. “It’s lost . . . We lost. We can’t take them. The Gate is destroyed. We have to find Tayben.” The Phantoms nodded their heads as they walked away from the dome over the remains of the Evertauri they had killed; the Gate was rubble. The pass to Cerebria was open, and the long string of Cerebrian victories was over.
City of Blood and Fire
Chapter Twenty Seven
~Night of November 4th into Early Morning
The group of drunken men stepped off the front porch of a tavern in a village just ten miles from Aun
estauna. Arguing about prostitutes as they crossed the street, their voices filled the entire sleeping town; but in seconds, the clattering hooves of twenty horses drowned them out.
Qerru-Mai rode in the front of the sprinting horses, followed by Palace servants, whose white and scarlet cloaks now flapped brown, covered in mud. A biting cold seeped into her gloves, followed by pelting snowflakes on her face, shoving the looming thought of her dead mother to the back of her head; Eston had ordered her to the Camp before she could go back to the Senators’ wing. Qerru-Mai snapped the reigns once more as her horse carried her over a puddle, down the road to Camp Auness to warn the soldiers of the attack.
A small village came into view, mostly dark, save for the main street where a cluster of men stumbled. Servants behind her removed bells from their pockets and shook them, as Qerru-Mai called out, “The Cerebrians are attacking! The Cerebrians are attacking Aunestauna by sea! Grab your swords and defend Aunestauna!” She signaled the servants behind her and half peeled off the pack to wake the village and prepare them for war. “To the rest, full speed ahead!” She snapped the reigns, and her white horse cleared another puddle, galloping toward Camp Auness through the dead of night.
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~Late Afternoon, November 4th
As the crowd of evacuees filtered off the docks, Kyan pulled Raelynn aside. She looked at him apprehensively. “Who are you?”
Kyan thought. “I met you in the Great Cathedral.”
“Oh, yes. Keir-?”
“Kyan.” he said. “I forgot that you were coming back.”
“How did you know I was coming back?” she asked.
Kyan’s hands turned cold, get yourself together. “Well you said you were leaving Aunestauna and that you would be back.” Kyan noticed her rub charcoal off her fingertips
Raelynn closed her eyes and pieced together the memories. “I remember. Well it's good to see you again, but you need to know that the Cerebrian navy—”
“The whole city is preparing to defend against an attack.” said Kyan. “The city Guard has been acting strange, and I think they may be a part of this.” Kyan knew they were, but acted unsure.
Raelynn picked up her small bag she carried with her. “Well this was an unfortunate day for me to arrive; but I’m here to help.”
Kyan turned to the fisherman’s boat and the net. “We’re stringing traps to stop the Cerebrians.”
Raelynn looked out into the calm inlet that was still lit by a fading orange sky. “They’ll arrive by midnight tonight . . . What can I do to help?”
~Night of November 4th
“Kyan! Get up here!” A group of watchmen stood on a spire of a small cathedral in the third district, their silhouettes against the starlight waved him up. Kyan quickly scaled the building and stood next to a group of his volunteers. One of them pointed out into the distance. “See all those Ferramish ships? You can pick’em out in the moonlight; massive fleet of them. What d'you suppose thats for?”
Kyan looked closely. “It’s the Cerebrians.”
“But Kyan, the banners are-”
“Scarlet. Don’t you think that could give them an advantage? Our ships have three masts; look here in the harbor below us. Those ships out there, they’re four-masted. Light the lamps, sound the alarm.”
“Aye, sir.” The group of boys rushed into the spire. “Give me the torch.” A boy thrust the torch into a large stack of firewood next to the bell. “Sound it!” Another boy grabbed the lever of the bell and pulled it, sending a single note reverberating through the nearest neighborhoods. A cathedral in the distance stood quiet and dark, then soon, a light flickered and a fire sprang up and a clear chime rang out from it.
Kyan grabbed the lever of the bell, and hit it again and again. Another cathedral in the distance lit up and rang its bells. Soon, the symphony of two dozen beacon cathedrals rang throughout the second and third district. Kyan took a break from the bells to look at the Palace hill. Nothing there moved, and no lights were lit; it was absolutely silent compared to the clamor of the city.
Raelynn stepped onto the roof of the cathedral. “Kyan, we’re ready down on the streets.”
Kyan looked to the sea. “We’re not ready for anything like this.”
The whistle of Cerebrian cannonballs cut through the cold air over Aunestauna as Kyan held his sword high, alongside Raelynn and forty other volunteers; a fraction of the amount of people who were prepared to fight on the seaside neighborhoods and farther inland. A few thin ropes held a huge stack of barrels together on the sloped street to the docks. A mass of green troops marched around the corner, headed toward the Ferrs. Once they were far enough in to not be able to run back, Kyan yelled, “Cut it!” and three little boys in the back of the pile severed the lines.
Instantly, forty barrels full of grain and water began to tumble down the steep street. “Forward!” Kyan and the rest ran after the barrels as they rolled down, hitting the sixty troops and all their metal plates with a clash. The Ferrs drove forward and jabbed the soldiers as they lay on the ground. Kyan threw a spear to Raelynn and they sank their weapons into the Cerebrians. The naval ships in the harbor continued to bash the ramparts of the Palace with dozens of cannonballs, and streets beside them now burned bright orange as the soldiers moved in.
Troops farther away had stopped the barrels from rolling and now charged forward. The baker met one with a massive blow of a club just before an arrow flew into his neck and another into his heart. Kyan pounced over a barrel and threw a knife into the chest of the archer ahead of them; but he failed to catch the baker as the man collapsed onto the street, bashing his head on the stone.
Kyan knelt next to him and an unexpected wave of dread passed through him. The realization that he could die right there hit him like a draft of winter air. Raelynn shouted from higher on the street, “Archers! Get down!” With no time to think, Kyan dove behind the baker’s large body as a volley of arrows whistled through the air. Arrows sailed into the flesh of the baker’s corpse behind him, and in seconds, ten Ferrs who had not ducked lay on the ground screaming with garbled voices as their throats filled with blood. An arrow flew straight at Raelynn but disappeared when she met it with her hand that seemed to be covered in charcoal.
More explosions from the harbor sent thunder cracks through the city, as the palace on fire continued to be bombarded. As more Cerebrian troops funneled into the street, Raelynn ran to a shop on the side and rang a bell over and over. The shutters of all the buildings on the street opened and mothers and daughters threw buckets of boiling water and burning coals on the troops below, some of which were unlucky enough to look up at the coals before they hit their eyes. A coal bounced off Kyan’s ankle, stinging him. Kyan froze as he watched the Cerebrians screaming in pain, horrified at the site. He could have passed these Cerebrians as Calleneck in the streets of Seirnkov or traded with them as Tayben in his little town of Woodshore; he could have had a drink next to one in the Ivy Serpent. Kyan grabbed his sword, I can’t keep running away . . . I have to kill them.
A gang of young men rounded the corner, driving passed Kyan, and met the soldiers with swords. A huge man next to him grabbed one of the barrels of water and hurled it at the Cerebrians. Raelynn grabbed a Cerebrian bow and began firing arrows at whatever troops she could, with surprising accuracy for her little experience. Kyan had learned eleven years of sword fighting from Whittingale and had used it in the Cerebrian army as a Phantom; so unlike the commoners around him, he was no stranger to the art. Kyan raised his sword, “Use whatever you have! This is your home!” The Ferrs roared in a rallying call, and Kyan rolled a stopped barrel down the street. His nimble thief feet dodged the swipe of a sword, and he spun around and stabbed a soldier in the neck. “Fight! Defend your city!”
Kyan heard a pounding on the rooftop next to him. Jumping over a chimney, two limping figures darted forward toward the harbor. Queen Eradine! His mind flashed back. “The Queen, she’s at the docks! They’re forcing her onto a ship!�
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Raelynn barely saw Kyan as he scaled a building onto its roof, following two other shapes . . . The Princes? “Kyan!” she shouted as she darted into the butcher shop and up its staircase to the roof. She burst the door open and saw Kyan skillfully jumping across roofs and chimneys ahead. “Kyan!” she called as she bolted after him. In the street below, the commoners cried out in joy as they saw the scarlet Ferramish Guard approaching them from behind. But they were soon silenced when the Ferramish Guard joined the Cerebrian troops in slaughtering their own people. The Guard began to set fire to the surrounding buildings, as Raelynn pursued Kyan and the Princes. Why are they going toward the harbor? Why is Kyan following them?
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Kyan knelt behind a chimney overlooking the harbor as Raelynn came running up to meet him. “What are y-”
Kyan put a finger over his lips and whispered, “Why did you follow me?”
“I saw y-” Kyan put a hand over her mouth and pointed to the docks below, where Eston and Fillian stood behind shipping containers. The ships’ cannons continued to fire and tear down the Palace above them. Every few seconds, another crack rang out. Raelynn pulled Kyan’s hand off her face. “Why are y-”
“Shhhh . . . Listen.” From far below, the wind carried Fillian’s words up to them, “How are we supposed to get Mother off that ship?”
Raelynn looked wide eyed at Kyan. “Queen Eradine?” Kyan nodded. “But how-”
“There’s no time to explain-”
Raelynn grabbed his wrist and whispered, “How did you know?”