by AC Cobble
Then an explosion hit it in the back. It lurched forward like it had been punched.
It was one of Amelie’s iron balls, realized Ben. A smaller explosion than they’d seen at the walls, but enough to do damage to the demon. A cluster of brave men stood nearby on a rooftop, hurtling the ammunition from a makeshift sling. They launched another one.
Another explosion followed and the demon crashed into one of the buildings lining the square. Its huge arm punched through the wall. The structure teetered and leaned alarmingly against the building next to it. The swarming lights picked up in intensity, prick after prick.
A third explosion lit the square, this time hitting the arch-demon in the front. Ben could see an ugly chunk of meat had been blown out of its shoulder. He knew from before, sharp pieces of iron would be embedded into its flesh.
A ball of white lightning danced across the space and crashed into the huge creature. It wasn’t as big a blast as the first one, but it sizzled and hissed when it struck the demon, burning and shocking.
It was too much. An anguished cry spilt the night, stabbing into Ben’s head like a spear. He fell to one knee, gripping his head, but the impact on the smaller demons was bigger. As one, they turned and fled, rushing down the city streets and toward the exterior walls. The huge arch-demon careened after them, arrows, lightning, and the firefly sparks chasing it, unrelenting.
From the library, Ben heard a whoosh, like a fire flaring to light. A thick cloud of the sparks blasted out the door. The dense cloud bathed the square in a bright glow. Flying across the square, the sparks smashed into the back of the huge arch-demon, penetrating through its wings and sinking into its flesh.
Standing at the entrance to the square, blocking the main thoroughfare, the massive creature turned. It leaned back as if to howl, but instead of sound, a stream of the sparks billowed out of its mouth and eyes. The sparks poured out as the arch-demon twisted in silent agony. Its life was draining out with each tiny spark. It seemed to deflate in front of Ben’s eyes. Omnipotent power leaked into the air, heartbeat by heartbeat.
Two more staggering steps then the huge creature crashed into a nearby building, smashing through the mortar walls like they were parchment.
With a boom that shook the entire city, the demon fell flat. It lay motionless as the rest of the building collapsed down on top of it. Only its feet were visible, the rest it obscured by rubble.
The sparks swirled higher into the sky, high above Northport, and then blinked out one by one, until none remained.
Dust and smoke drifted across the suddenly quiet square.
Slowly, Ben could hear cheers growing throughout the city as more people realized the demons were on the run. The terrified cries of the creatures grew faint and the wild celebrations of men rolled across Northport like a wave.
Frantic captains and sergeants rushed out of the square and toward where the demons had fled. Ben was sure they were extolling their men to remain on guard. The demons were running now, but they were still a threat. They were still demons. The officers had to ensure the celebrations didn’t get out of hand.
Ben smiled. They had done it. They had driven off the demons. His smile faded though as he surveyed the area around him. Armored bodies lay like a thick carpet.
Northport still lived, but many of its defenders did not.
16
In the Rubble
Ben sat. Blood dribbled down his sides and dripped steadily to the cold cobblestones below. All around him lay the dead—men and demons. A sour charnel scent filled his nostrils. He was too tired to be sick.
Several paces away, Rhys knelt with his chin lying on his chest. Ben could see he was breathing, but he didn’t seem to have moved since before the huge demon entered the square. Whatever he did with his sword drained him.
Ben felt weak and cold. He knew it was the loss of blood. He couldn’t bring himself to move and find help.
He watched as soldiers and eventually women and children entered the square. The men stared about dumbfounded, looking at the carnage and death. The women searched frantically, trying to find husbands, lovers, or sons. The children stared uncomprehending and blank faced. It was surreal. They couldn’t process what had happened. Like Ben.
“You alive?” asked a sweet voice behind him.
Ben shifted to see Corinne, flanked by a pair of serious-looking archers.
“Yeah, for now,” he rasped.
“You look like shit,” she mentioned.
“So I’ve been told,” Ben groaned.
“Take him to the triage tent,” she instructed the men beside her. “We’ll get you patched back up,” she said to Ben.
“Him too?” asked Ben, tilting his chin toward Rhys.
“What happened to him?” asked Corinne, rushing toward the rogue. She knelt and wrapped her arms around the man, but he didn’t react.
“He killed a dozen of those big demons,” answered Ben. “It drained him.”
“By himself?” exclaimed Corinne.
Ben nodded.
She tersely demanded to one of the archers, “Take him to the keep. Send for Oliver, Rhymer’s physic. He’s the most likely to be able to deal with something like this. Do it now!”
The archer and Corinne lifted Rhys, looping his arm over the man’s shoulder. The man staggered under the weight of Ben’s friend. A determined look on his face gave Ben confidence he would make it to the keep. The other archer bowed to Rhys in respect. Rhys didn’t see it, which maybe was for the best. He didn’t need anything more to inflate his ego.
“We have more wounded than physics,” murmured Corinne, watching the archer limp away with Rhys.
“I don’t need…” started Ben.
Corinne interrupted him and barked an order at the second archer beside her, “Take him to the tent. Don’t listen if he says anything different. I’ll be checking.”
The man dragged Ben to his feet. Ben’s injuries stretched painfully. He gritted his teeth as he felt a fresh stream of blood leak from the open wounds.
With the man’s assistance, they left to find help. Every couple of paces, they stepped over the body of a man or a beast.
Ben woke up to see Amelie staring down at him.
“You look like shit,” she remarked.
“Still?” he asked jokingly. He shifted to sit up and winced at the pain. He’d forgotten how cut up he was.
She shrugged. “I don’t know what you looked like earlier. I’m just saying you look like shit right now.”
“What time is it?” he asked with a groan.
“Almost evening,” she responded.
His body ached. He could still feel the sharp sting where the demons had torn his flesh. He finally sat up with a grunt and his head swam.
“Here,” said Amelie, passing him a cup of water. “If you can, you need to eat to get your strength up. They told me you lost a lot of blood.”
He swung his legs off the bed onto the floor and cringed as the motion pulled the hasty stitches the field physic had sewn into him. He slowed down. Ben didn’t want the stitches to tear loose and have to go back to the triage tent. The harried physic put about as much attention into his stitching as Ben did into lacing his boots.
They were in Ben’s room in the keep. He was shirtless, too tired the night before to change his attire. He still wore the same pants he’d fought in. They smelled awful.
“A bath also. As soon as you’ve finished eating,” added Amelie, pulling a face.
She placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the rough stitches there. “I think I could have done a better job than this.”
A warm tingle crept into his arm where she touched him. She was trying to heal him. He didn’t comment, but gently moved her hand and tried to stand. Ben’s stomach rumbled when he rose unsteadily to his feet.
“I think the physic was in a bit of a hurry,” muttered Ben. “There was a long line.”
“Can you change your pants on your own?” asked Amelie. “They smell h
orrific, and I think you have demon blood in your hair.” She shook her head, frowning at him. “I changed my mind. You need to wash up now. I can’t sit next to you and eat food until you smell a little bit more like soap and a lot less like dead animal.”
Ben smiled ruefully. “I’ll manage.”
“Good. I’ll wait for you outside,” she said. “We have a lot to discuss.”
Ben changed as quickly as he could, grimacing at every movement. Amelie waited patiently for him in the hallway. They went to the mess hall. The dining room was closed, there was no one to staff it, explained Amelie.
“Rhys and Towaal?” asked Ben as they sat down.
Two-day-old bread, cold meat, and hard cheese. Not a feast, but his stomach rumbled as he realized it had been a full day since he’d eaten.
“Towaal is in the library. She went in after the battle and hasn’t come out since. I saw some things during the fight, things I can’t really explain…” She shrugged. “Something happened in that library, but it has been so hectic I haven’t had time to talk to her. I ducked my head in to see if she was okay and she ignored me. Back to normal for her.”
Ben swallowed a bite of the stale bread. “And Rhys?”
“His wounds will heal,” she said with a frown. “I checked on him earlier and he’s…different. You need to see him. He was asleep when I looked in, but maybe he’s awake now.”
Ben looked at her curiously. What did she mean?
Amelie continued without giving more details, “The city is a shambles. I don’t think anyone has any real idea yet how many people were killed. Entire neighborhoods were flattened in the fighting and companies of soldiers have gone missing. Bodies of demons and people are everywhere. I heard Rhymer is giving instructions to have it cleaned up, but last I was outside, there was hardly anyone moving about.”
“They were up all night fighting,” mumbled Ben around a tough piece of sliced mutton.
“That’s true.” Amelie sighed. “Someone will have to do something about the bodies soon though, or else there will be pestilence. After war, that many corpses have been known to kill more than the battle itself.”
“I saw Corinne at the end,” said Ben. “She made it.”
Amelie looked down. “I heard Seneschal Franklin didn’t.”
Ben grimaced and took another bite of mutton.
Amelie sat silently then asked, “After we finish eating, do you need to rest?”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t think I could. I’m tired but not sleepy, if that makes any sense. How about you?”
“I slept enough earlier.”
“Let’s check on Rhys then find Lady Towaal,” suggested Ben.
“Just what I was thinking,” agreed Amelie.
Outside of Rhys’ room, they could hear heavy snoring and moved on without looking in. He’d done enough and they didn’t want to disturb him.
As they walked through the keep, it felt like nothing happened. There were fewer guards and maids shuffling about on their errands, but the place hadn’t felt the impact of the battle. Everything was neat and tidy, just like the first time he had walked through these halls. The lords and courtiers of Northport remained safe and secure within the keep.
Once they passed out of the gates, it was a different story.
Heaps of corpses littered the square. Ben’s stomach clenched. He paused, worried he might get sick.
“Awful,” murmured Amelie. “Why isn’t Rhymer doing something about this? Where are the soldiers?”
There were a few scattered teams of men with rags wrapped around their faces slowly loading wagons full of dead demons. With the number of dead, it would take them at least a week just to clear the square.
“The walls?” wondered Ben. “If it was me, I’d have men on the walls.”
They picked their way carefully through the muck and carnage, heading toward the untouched library.
Ben looked to where the dozen arch-demons had fallen. Their bodies still lay there. Probably too big for any of the wagon crews to lift, he thought. He glanced over and saw the biggest one still lay buried in rubble, only the huge feet showing where it fell. He realized uncomfortably that someone was going to have to cut the creatures up and cart them out in pieces.
“You were very impressive last night,” mentioned Amelie. “When we were on the wall, you held your own and did just as much as Rhys.”
“I don’t know about that,” protested Ben. “Look at those arch-demons there.” He turned back and pointed to the massive creatures. “That is what Rhys did. If it wasn’t for him, I’m not sure we would have won the fight.”
Amelie whistled. “That is impressive. Maybe next time you will do the same.”
“Next time,” Ben snorted. “Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.”
“They’re still out there,” she reminded him. “Hundreds, maybe thousands of them fled. Someone has to face them.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” responded Ben, changing the subject. He knew she was right, but he didn’t want to talk about it. “Those artillery balls were amazing.”
Amelie blushed. “I realized something when we were in the Wilds. I don’t have the training Towaal has, and I certainly don’t have the power, but proper preparation can make up for that. I can be smart. Every force has an equal and opposite reaction. I used that with the balls and just redirected the force when they impacted. Instead of following a natural vector, it expanded outward from the core of the iron. Amplify it, add a little heat to the mix, and you’ve got a pretty effective weapon. It only worked because the velocity of the flight was so great.”
“You lost me after equal and opposite,” responded Ben.
“Well,” said Amelie, “That’s the theory–law, really. Every force has an equal and opposite reaction.”
They stepped into the unguarded door of the library and blinked in the darkness. Ben found a candle near the entrance and lit it with a striker kept there for the purpose. No one was around, so they continued deeper into the stacks.
“Like the Alliance and Coalition?” asked Ben after a pause.
Amelie frowned. “I’m talking physics.”
Ben shrugged. “I don’t know much about that, or politics really, but from what I’ve observed, that is what’s happening. The Coalition raised a force and the Alliance responded. Equal and opposite. Maybe it’s not a theory in a book, but if you see it, that means something, right? I think there’s a word for that...”
“Information gathered through observation is empirical evidence,” mumbled Amelie, lost in thought.
“Empire what?” asked Ben, confused.
“Never mind,” she replied quietly. “In pure physics, the opposite forces are reactions. They don’t have an aspect.”
“I’m not following,” replied Ben.
“They’re not good or evil, right or wrong,” explained Amelie. “They are natural forces.”
They were in the open room in the center of the building now but couldn’t see anyone or any light. They crept around tall shelves, looking for a sign of Lady Towaal.
“So, you’re saying it’s not the same,” asked Ben in a whisper, “because the Coalition is evil?”
“I’m not sure,” answered Amelie.
Ben looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
“When Argren formed the Alliance, he said it was for the good of the people,” she continued. “He said we would stand together to fight evil, and I believed him. But earlier, when Lord Jason visited Issen, he also claimed the Coalition was for the good of the people. He said it in almost the same words. Myland in Free State didn’t think there was any difference between the two. What if…” Amelie paused, gathering her thoughts. “What if Argren and Jason both believe what they say. What if they both think they are doing good?”
Ben frowned. He hadn’t thought of it like that. “Well, I wouldn’t say that either group is doing is good right now. Lord Jason tried to capture you and is attacking Issen. Lord Argren hasn’t li
fted a finger to help and seems to only be interested in protecting his own interests.”
“Exactly,” responded Amelie.
Ben rubbed his hand over his face. He was still exhausted from the battle the day before and wasn’t prepared for this type of thinking.
“Deep discussions,” echoed a tired voice behind them.
Ben and Amelie both jumped in surprise. They spun and nearly dropped the candle into a pile of dry, loose leafed books.
“Be careful with that,” scolded Towaal, looking at candle. “Every time I think I teach you something…” She waved for them to follow her into the darkness. Muttering quietly, she kept talking to herself, “Nearly burning down the most important library left in Alcott. Unbelievable.”
Ben and Amelie exchanged a sheepish glance then followed her to a back corner where she ducked through a curtain.
Brushing it aside, Ben saw a narrow stone hallway lit by a single wall sconce. The hallway appeared to lead beyond where he thought the wall of the library should have been. At the end of it was a warmly lit doorway that Towaal disappeared into. They scampered after her.
Through the doorway was a small room, roughly the size of Ben’s apartment in Farview. It contained only a short wooden shelf, a tall cabinet, and a well-worn reading chair.
The doors of the cabinet hung open to reveal a set of shelves holding a scattering of miscellany. Ben couldn’t tell the purpose of any of it, but given its place in the library, he assumed Towaal stumbled across something important.
“We came to check on you,” said Amelie, peering around the room.
“Of course,” murmured Towaal. Dark shadows hung below her eyes and she had a rumpled, distracted look about her. Compared to her usual, professional demeanor, it was shocking. She reminded Ben of when he’d seen Amelie and Meghan just after big exams at the Sanctuary.