by Tom Lloyd
‘Thought that was against your code.’
He nodded slowly. ‘I ain’t voting for it, but I’m not in command. Anatin’s loyal but he ain’t all that loyal.’
‘We’re going nowhere tonight,’ Suth said with finality. ‘We just need to last until morning.’
‘And then what?’
‘Then they count their dead and have a long hard think about coming at us again.’
‘There’ll be too many dead to let them back down.’
Her face hardened. ‘Damn right, but we’ll get our mages back in the morning. If we have to cut a path through this city with Lastani and Sitain clearing the way, so be it.’
‘That’s one long hard walk to the canal.’
‘Got a better idea?’ Suth asked.
Lynx was quiet.
‘Yeah, I thought not. So we’re cutting a bloody swathe through this city or we’re dying.’
Braqe gave a snort. ‘When did we all get so loyal?’
‘Some time deep underground is my guess.’
‘Cards o’ the deepest black. Let these fuckers come.’ She raised her voice to an expected shout. ‘You hear that? Fucking come, we’ll kill you all!’
Lynx blinked at her.
‘Feel better?’
‘Yup.’
Darkness fell. It wrapped Sitain in velvet folds and the pressure in her head eased a little. All day it had been building, the steady sensation of a storm – except she knew it wasn’t the weather. The oppressive day had only worsened the sensation. It was unpleasant and exhausting, but there was something else that tired her. The wellspring of magic deep inside. The tattoos that pulsed with power. Pressure had been building and even as the heat of the day had begun to ease, she’d feared her head might explode. Quite literally perhaps.
It was hard to deny Atieno’s assessment. The newly tattooed mages were enough of a clue, but all through the day she’d felt a weight closing in. A great tidal wave of power radiating out from Jarrazir. Only nightfall had eased it, the embrace of her magic’s embodiment. The power was still there, but it had broken over her and now she swam in that sea. Now it was obedient to her.
Sitain sank back into her seat, in the central courtyard of the lodging house. She hadn’t been aware of standing, but suddenly she was. She closed her eyes and immediately opened them again. She wanted to sleep, but who could sleep like this? In Jarrazir she’d felt power unlike anything she’d known before. It leaked out of her like smoke from a thurible. But living that way had changed her, had cracked her bones and stretched her muscles to reform her into something that could contain more than any human should.
I wonder how Tanimbor’s mages are doing? she thought idly, luxuriating in the tingle and rush of vast, lazy power. Will they survive this? I wouldn’t have, not this much power all at once.
She looked up at the sky, hidden by the dark canopies strung between towers. They made no difference to her. Sitain could see the line of the skyriver almost directly overhead, a blade of light thinner than she remembered from growing up, north of here. The stars too – their light hidden but revealed to her still and more besides. She sensed movement, circling and spiralling like birds of prey hunting. But she knew they weren’t birds and nor were they hunting.
With a little concentration and a thin flare of night magic, she counted three, then seven, then a dozen far above her – dancing in the thermals of Sitain’s mind. The numbers made her gasp. Never before had she seen this many. Never before had she attracted more than three at any one time and now …
Two more drifted into her perception, cutting a wider path but orbiting those that danced and gently closing to join them. Sitain smiled and sent more flares of magic up into the sky – unnoticed by her mercenary comrades as they chattered somewhere on the fringes of Sitain’s body. Her soul rose into the sky and the Falesh, the night elementals, welcomed her as a giver of life.
Chapter 28
‘What’s that?’
Lynx turned and squinted. ‘Looks like smoke.’
Suth snorted. ‘I can bloody see that, what’s it doing over there? Aren’t they supposed to be smoking us out?’
Lynx peered down what he could see of the street. There were a few figures watching, Mastrunners no doubt. They kept a wide perimeter within which no one moved. He couldn’t see more attackers, but he raised his gun anyway.
‘They seem to be doing it wrong,’ he said at last.
‘Somehow that worries more than reassures.’
There was something burning a hundred yards away at least. It sent up a great column of dirty smoke into the night sky, but what use was that? There were none of the shouts that he would expect if this was someone screwing up, no panic or anger. Just smoke, too far away to be of use and too controlled to be a mistake.
‘Now I’m worried too,’ he admitted.
‘Stop whining, the pair of you,’ Braqe said. ‘If you want to be concerned about something, how about the fact our jester in the hole is stoned out of her shitting mind?’
She pointed behind them, between two fat balustrade supports. There in the courtyard below was Sitain, sitting limp in a chair and staring blankly up at the sky. With his unnatural vision, Lynx was sure he could see a faint smile on her face.
‘Hoy, Toil,’ he hissed. ‘Fuck’s up with Sitain?’
The woman glanced around and scowled. ‘Dunno.’
She went to shake Sitain then stopped dead. The air around Sitain seemed to be glittering darkly, a faint flicker of movement that could be easily dismissed if you’d not seen a shadowshard before.
‘Something’s going on out there,’ Suth added. ‘They’ve set fires, but well clear of us.’
‘Same here,’ reported Teshen. ‘Looks like they’re coming soon.’
‘How?’
The man hissed in irritation. ‘Where are we again? Forgotten that detail?’
Lynx blinked for a moment before realisation hit him. Shit, the Mage Islands. We’re not the only ones who can call on mages for support.
‘Wind mages,’ he said aloud.
Down in the courtyard, Toil fetched a cup of wine and tossed it over Sitain. Lynx couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw something neatly slice through the water, cuts like a dozen razors, before it splashed down on Sitain’s face.
‘Guh,’ the young woman said muzzily, blinking up at Toil. ‘Wassat for?’
‘Get ready,’ Toil ordered her. ‘We’re about to be hit, we’ll need you soon.’
A lazy grin appeared on Sitain’s face. ‘Want me to put ’em out now? Reckon I could do half the district.’
‘Missing us out?’
Sitain laughed. ‘Sure, I’ll definitely give that a shot.’
‘Wait for my order then.’
‘Spoilsport.’
Lynx went back to sentry duty, crouched at the outer wall in the security of the shadows. There was more movement out there, figures creeping closer then vanishing behind buildings. Auferno’s streets weren’t as much of a tangle as some districts, but this was a multi-level city shaped by the whims of mages. There were plenty of places to hide and approach in safety.
The closest building was a squat lump, two storeys high, with a bridge across the roof to its neighbour and another to the taller one behind. That was a curved block of four levels, a rock shelf wide enough for carts occupying its near side that led to a hump of land behind. The fires were burning past the right flank of that. He could see figures illuminated in the light while three bridges spread fingers across the low scattering of houses between the block and a string of shore-front compounds.
Teshen’s prediction was soon proved right. The smoke rising from the fires abruptly twisted into a spiral in the still night air, whipping around in a tight knot that whirled with unexpected ferocity. Lynx couldn’t see the mage doing it and wasn’t sure what he’d do if he could, given how they were hoping for the Shard’s benevolence. They watched the spiralling ball of smoke spin drunkenly towards them, making jerky prog
ress but all too soon looming large.
‘Ideas, anyone?’ Suth asked.
Lynx turned. ‘Sitain, could you take out everyone on the ground?’
She peered up at him. ‘Not all in one go. Remember the barracks in Jarrazir though? I could do that more than once.’
‘Toil, smoke’s coming. Best you get up here while you still can.’
The woman nodded and Anatin quickly gave directions to their small team who waited down in the courtyard. Quickly they spread to cover different sections of the wall – there would be no meeting the main assault if they couldn’t see the stairways properly. As Toil headed up towards Lynx’s section, Anatin remained at Sitain’s side, talking softly to her while the young woman nodded.
‘What’s the plan?’ Suth asked once Toil reached them. She kept one eye on the cloud of smoke, fast approaching, as they all started to wet rags and tie them over their faces.
‘When it reaches us, we wait as long as we can while Sitain does each side in turn,’ Toil said, her face taut with concern. ‘Puts down anyone outside the walls without knocking us out as well. No wind mage will be able to hold that smoke for long.’
‘Gives them plenty of time to put burners over the wall. Hells, any sort of firebomb would do the job. Doesn’t need to be magic.’
‘We hear any movement, we drop a grenade over the side. I don’t think there’s a book of tactics for this shit. If in doubt, blow something up.’
They fell silent, watching the smoke. Breathing through his rag mask, Lynx felt suddenly alone as the world seemed to fade away and he was left with just the sound of his breathing. One by one, buildings were swallowed by the cloud. Still he couldn’t see the mage, but as the fear kicked in Lynx knew he’d not hesitate if he did catch sight of them. Consequences were for the living.
‘Take a deep breath and follow my lead,’ Suth said, taking one last check of her pistol, opening the breech to reveal the painted head of a burner cartridge and closing it again. They all filled their lungs and Toil primed a grenade. Then the cloud hit them.
Lynx closed his eyes as the warm air swarmed all around him. The still night air was transformed into a roiling storm, spun like a gale by the wind mage to keep the smoke together. Somewhere behind him he heard Anatin shout, over the sound of the wind tearing past his face.
He felt the tattoos on his skin grow warm. All of a sudden Sitain became the only thing Lynx could feel; a great iron mass that contorted the fabric of the world. By the grunts he heard, Suth and Toil had been hit by the same, but in the next moment there was a vast punch of magic racing past, under his feet.
If there were bodies falling in the street, Lynx didn’t hear them. His attention was still on Sitain, bubbling with such power it almost drove the wind from his lungs. She moved on, towards Reft’s station, while Lynx fought the urge to gasp for air.
Just a little while longer, he urged his unwilling body. Just one more heartbeat.
Someone submitted nearby, puffing out hard before coughing furiously a moment later. Lynx’s lungs were burning now, screaming for air as panic began to fill him and dark spots encroached on his vision. Still he fought it. Even as the walls started closing in and the stink of coal-dust filled his nose. Even as the grit filled every pore and the weight of shackles dragged at his ankles. Even as the light faded to a memory and fear and hunger gnawed at his belly.
There was coughing all around him, he felt an elbow clip his shoulder and he staggered, then the crack and roar of a burner cut through the night. Moments later a deeper boom shook the ground under him. A bright orange flash seared the air past his closed eyes. Still Lynx fought, but then the wind abruptly faltered and vanished.
He dropped to his knees, feeling his strength failing. Only the power humming through his tattoos kept him conscious. He lasted two final heartbeats then submitted to the roaring need inside him and blessed, smoke-cursed air rushed in.
Lynx immediately started to cough furiously, but the second breath and the third were better. The smoke lingered but they were out in the open, high and exposed in a shoreline city. Every breath he took was improved and the blackness filling his eyes began to fade again.
Distantly he realised Toil had thrown her grenade over the side. There were cries and screams overlaying the sound of flames, and the wheezing and retching of his comrades. The stink of vomit assailed him. Through bleary eyes he saw Toil doubled over, coughing uncontrollably – the rest of them no better. Suth had one hand up on the wall for support, but she was in no condition to fight.
The mage had lasted longer than any of them had expected. Distantly he realised there had probably been two. Lastani had said such things were a trial of strength. A wind mage would encourage the air towards a ship through affinity as much as anything, gently direct its force into the sails perhaps. To generate something and direct it on a near-still day was a different order, power only the marked Cards could muster for long.
He struggled his way to the wall and peered over. The flames had died down already, with little to burn in a city made of stone. There was blurred movement all around and it took him a while to work out what was what. By the time he did so, arrows and icers were flashing up to meet him.
Lynx dropped back as chunks of stone burst from the wall. There were cries of the dying out there too – the terrible power of a fire grenade was a shocking thing to behold, even for a veteran. The survivors would be all the more stunned, but Lynx didn’t mean to give them time to recover. Instead he put his gun above his head and fired a sparker blind, in the direction he’d seen some of the enemy.
Reloading, he fired again in the other direction then chanced a look up. More gunshots came, but he hardly noticed as the first of half a dozen Mastrunners were scaling the walls. He shot one with his pistol, hoping to dissuade them while the rest of the defenders coughed their guts up, but more crossbow bolts kept him down.
A third sparker took several off the tower wall, but then the first one clambered over the low section Lynx stood at. He hurled his mage-gun at the woman and the wooden stock cracked against her head, throwing her back. She almost fell, but somehow held on. It was enough time for Lynx to find his sword, lying where he’d left it, and he threw himself at her.
He drove the tip into her sternum and shoved her clear of the wall. She fell screaming while Lynx felt an arrow score a furrow in his upper arm. He reeled away but forced himself forward as more Mastrunners appeared.
They were swift climbers, terrifyingly so. Lynx had been in sieges so he’d seen how fast men scaled ladders, but these bastards were using little more than the natural flaws of the rock itself. A grapple clanged over the far side as he watched, but Lynx was too busy trying to cut the head off a large man with a tall mane of hair. His blow was neatly deflected but Lynx turned that into a shoulder barge.
He shoved the Mastrunner sideways, trying to smash the pommel of his sword into the man’s face but somehow getting caught in a grapple instead. The man fought like Teshen, limbs like willow that felt solid when you hit them, but which could twist around and whip back at you in the next moment. Lynx rode a blow then found himself shoved backwards. Just as the man was about to run him through, Suth recovered enough to put an icer through one eye. The back of the man’s head exploded in chill gore.
Lynx lurched forward as the man’s weight dragged him back to the wall, almost getting a spear through the face in the next moment. Suth shot that one too as Lynx fell on to his backside, disentangling himself from the first corpse. More Cards were rising, but on shaking limbs, and more Mastrunners appeared at the wall, sliding neatly over. Among them was the kaboto – Ube. Lynx found himself face to face with the man. He saw the look of utter fury settle directly on to Lynx as a hooked axe was raised.
‘Shattered gods!’ Lynx heard Suth gasp, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Enfeebled by the smoke his arm went limp as he caught Ube’s blow on his sword. Ube took a pace forward as he tugged a second axe from his belt and readi
ed a killing blow. Lynx felt the cold hand of death settle upon his shoulder and found he had no fight left for those last moments. But Ube never reached him.
Chapter 29
Ube flew abruptly sideways. Something massive ripped him from the wall in a blur of movement. Lynx barely saw it happen. One moment the Mastrunner was about to kill him, the next he was dragged howling into the night. Great wings swept through the sky, folding in their up-stroke to clear the space between the towers.
‘Down!’ Toil yelled, bearing Lynx to the ground. More Mastrunners came over the wall, but now they were looking around for this new threat. In the panic and chaos of night they could see almost nothing, but Lynx saw more shapes darting forward. They swooped with a speed the commando in him might once have admired, if he hadn’t been so stupefied. One man was hauled away. The other had his head torn off in a fountain of blood that sprayed hot and sticky across Lynx’s face.
A crash followed in the next moment as one of the creatures snagged a wing on the high canopies and ripped it clean off. Newly loosed ropes and metal pulleys lashed the wall, then the beast’s claws latched briefly on a stone tower as it fought to stay in the air. Lynx had to throw himself aside to avoid a long limb that tore a furrow in the stonework and he kept rolling to try and get clear.
‘What’s going on?’ he heard Toil yell.
The darkness was a blur of confused movement, even to Lynx’s eyes. Flocks of small tysarn flashed around in sweeping arcs, some pursued by larger ones, some trailing in their slipstreams. Screams and shouts came from all directions, then the crisp detonation of icers. White streaks tore up at the huge tysarn still struggling with the canopies. Some punched right through its wings, others disappeared into the beast’s flesh. The tysarn didn’t seem to notice the impacts as it writhed and snapped at the ropes entangling it. Before it could free itself, however, Lynx was aware of a sudden pulse of magic.