“Well, come inside, then,” I urged Ivarr, and he frowned at the bars. The opening was too narrow for him, what with the heavy jacket he wore. “Take off the Lukan coat and come in.”
Ivarr struggled out of the jacket, but then the guards were too close, and I killed the glim again. Under the tree, the guards stopped. They weren’t talking this time.
A glim flickered on and shown round and then up. Ivarr’d tucked himself flush with the thick yew branch he rested on.
“D’you hear that?” one of the guards asked, and he must’ve been closer to the tree’n the last time they’d come round, for I hear him clear as crystal.
The other guard said nowt, but I could hear him turning slow-like in a circle, and after a moment he lit his own glim.
“Sounds like some sort of machine,” he said after a time.
I’d been holding my breath, though I’d not noticed ’til his words let me take another. I’d thought they’d heard us, don’t you know, but they were talking about the hum of the bombers.
Couldn’t be from Helésey, them two, or they’d know without a doubt what the sound they heard was. Must’ve come from the mainland.
The second guard shown his light round a bit more, flashing over the yew and the branch with Ivarr, and I about had a heart attack right then and there. Then both of them moved on, muttering about the hum.
Soon’s they were past, I lit Ivarr’s glim and waved him inside.
He had a time of it, pulling himself through the gap, but then he was in, and that was fair better’n him sitting on the yew branch for anyone to see. He dragged in his sack and his coat.
I shielded the glim with my hand so’s it’d only light a small corner of the cell.
“I thought for sure they’d spot you,” I said ’tween teeth I gritted on account of them wanting to shatter with panic.
“Good thing they didn’t. There’s no one else coming to Grumflein tonight, not with the attack and all.”
“We don’t have to do it,” I told him, jerking my chin at the cell’s door.
“It wasn’t my whole family,” he said. “My mother and sister escaped. They left for the mainland before the Tyrablót.”
“But your father…”
“Killed by one of the convicts Myadar released,” he said, his voice tight as a wire.
My throat closed and I reached out and squeezed his wrist.
He leaned towards me then and rested his forehead against my cheekbone. He dropped the sack and the coat and slipped his arms around my waist.
“Ginna,” he whispered. “Ginna, they said you were dead. They said they’d caught Raud Gríma and killed him in the konungdis’s rooms. I thought you were dead.”
His mouth was against my throat, by my ear, and I was as frozen as an icicle, afraid to move, afraid I was dreaming and I’d wake in another moment to find myself being escorted to the gallows.
“I killed about ten Officers before I had the bright idea to capture one and interrogate him,” he whispered. “That’s when I learned you’d survived. I caught another one, just to be sure. They told me you were here.”
“Ivarr…” I breathed.
“If you’d been killed… Ginna, I’ve got nothing left. I don’t even know if my mother and sister are still alive. There’s been fighting in the provinces—battles and the Officers have been killing hundreds…” He shuddered. “I’ve been—it’s been a little like what you were going through, you know?” he said, and there was a question in his voice, a deeper one’n just what he spoke.
I paused, the things he said sinking in.
“Ivarr,” I said. “It was a nightmare for me, when I was killing…”
I let my voice trail off, and felt him stiffen.
“And I did it voluntarily,” he said, and pulled away from me.
“I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to. You couldn’t help yourself. You were god-touched and out of your mind when you were killing the slashers. But me—I did it for revenge. For my father. And for you.”
It was a helpless and foolish feeling, standing in the cell, holding the glim so’s it’d show the edges of our faces but not much more. What could I say to him? That I understood why he’d killed all them Officers? When I didn’t? I’d done plenty of killing, sure enough. Was a time, I’d been ruled by a killing rage. But the night Atli seen to it Styrlakker and the rest were murdered, that rage’s reign over me come to an end. I never have wanted for Ivarr to take up killing in my place.
“I’m sorry, Ivarr,” I said.
He scoffed and turned away from me.
“I—”
“Don’t bother,” he cut me off. “Let’s just get through the rest of this.”
He opened the sack and brung out a closed wooden box. Lifting the hinged lid he took out a tube wrapped in brownish paper not much bigger’n a cigar, and some metal bits I’d no name for. One of them looked to be in two parts, one inside the other, so’s you could move it a bit like a tiny bicycle pump. The other just looked like a thick, smooth pin or some such. He unwrapped one end of the tube. In the light of the glim I weren’t sure of the colour of what I seen, but when he stuck the smooth metal bit in the gummy stuff inside the paper, I smelled almonds.
He put the tube at the corner of the cell door and pushed me to the other side of the cell. He was holding the pump-like metal bit, which I seen was connected to the pin with a long wire. “Cover your face,” he said, turning his back in a hunch to the door, and he pressed down on the pump. I’d just enough time to throw my hands up to my face when the explosion destroyed most of the door. Pieces of it flew everywhere, hitting the walls hard as bullets. There was an awful howl on the other side. Some guard’d been injured or killed.
Crying started up. Injured, then. We made our way out of the cell, dust from the blast hanging in the air like smoke, limiting the light of the glim.
I felt fair deafened by the noise of the explosion, but the hum of the bombers was close enough now to make the walls shiver. I almost didn’t look at the fallen guard as we moved past him. Somehow, I felt I must, though, so I stopped and crouched down at the man’s side. He had blood all over his right side and his face, so at first, I didn’t recognize him.
There were dark wooden shards from the door sticking into him like knives: one at place where his throat met his right shoulder, one in his right arm, and more in his back, side, and leg.
“You’ll need seeing to,” I muttered, but I was fair certain he’d live, so I was all set to leave him.
Then he said, “Ginna,” and I near lost all feeling in my legs. I was sitting on the floor by him next thing I knew, wiping the blood from his face rough-like with no thought to how I might hurt him worse.
“Hardane? Hardane?”
“Ginna, leave him. They’ll take care of him,” Ivarr said. “The bombers’ll be here any minute. If we’re going to get anyone else out, we have to move now.”
“I can’t leave him,” I said as the features I knew come visible as I cleaned the blood off his face. “He’s my’n brother!”
Ivarr said nowt.
“You said it yourself,” I gasped as the pain of seeing Hardane so wounded burrowed a hole into the middle of me. “The bombers’ll be here. They’ll try to destroy this place, mark my words. He’ll be killed.”
Just then, like they were trying to prove my point, a great thunder shook the whole building. Dust fell from the ceiling but I’d a notion they’d not got a direct hit on the prison. Seemed Grumflein’s invincibility carried on.
“Ginna…” Ivarr said, but he didn’t follow it up with anything else.
I was trying to see if there was owt I could do to get rid of the shards of the door what’d buried themselves in Hardane’s body.
What was he doing there, outside my cell door? Had he been guarding me, his’n sister? Or coming to help me escape?
Hardane sobbed like the child he was, eyes squeezed tight against the pain.
“It’s no use,”
I said, my breath coming quick. “I can’t risk taking these pieces out here, like this. I’m apt to hurt him worse.”
“We’ll get him out,” Ivarr said. “Come on, you support his bad side, I’ll take his good side. We can try the cell’s window—”
“No,” I said. “Even if we could get him through the gap in the bars unharmed, he’d never make it down the tree. We’ve got to take the stairs.”
“The only way we’ll make it out of here is if I let some more people out,” Ivarr said. “They’ll keep busy any guards that haven’t decided to run for their lives.” He helped me get Hardane to his feet, though my poor brother was in a sorry state. He seemed to be able to put weight on the injured leg, though, so I knew we had a chance.
“You’ve got to go on ahead,” I told Ivarr. “I’ve got him, don’t worry. You’ve got to break the doors to the cells ahead of us.”
“Pity we can’t go up—I heard Taf Spraki’s up there. Myadar was hoping she’d get a chance to talk to him again.”
“We’ve got to go straight out.”
“I know. Come on, let’s get moving.”
So I followed, my brother near to collapsed on my left shoulder. The going with Hardane was cutting slow, but then it had to be anyway on account of Ivarr stopping to work on the doors. He’d several more of those tubes of putty, and I kept a far distance when he set each off. Each time after the explosion, several convicts’d come pouring out, yelling and wanting to know what was going on.
“The city’s under attack,” Ivarr said to the first few, but after that he just waved them ahead and went to work on another door.
After the fourth door he run out of putty, so he dropped the sack and come back to us.
“I can help support him,” Ivarr shouted, for by then the din of escaped prisoners paired with bombers overhead and explosions outside in the city’d combined to make enough noise so’s you’d not hear a word if a person spoke in a normal tone.
“I think it’ll just hurt him worse, having someone on his right,” I called back.
Ivarr nodded, then pulled a handgun out of the inside pocket of the coat he was still carrying rather’n wearing. He showed it to me and gestured where we were headed. He’d take the lead, he meant. Shoot anyone what tried to stop us.
We come to a turning staircase and started down, but Hardane’s sobs, what’d seemed to be getting softer, started up hard again as we did. I had to slow down a good deal, and Ivarr got a ways ahead of us.
There was a lull in the noise from outside the prison, though you could hear the havoc being reeked by prisoners on the levels below still, and then the sound of marching come from the floor we’d just left—no, not so much marching as fast pounding boots, coming straight for us.
Ivarr doubled back and appeared round the turn. “Ginna, you’ve got to carry him the rest of the way. They’re coming!”
“I’m sorry, luv,” I said to Hardane, then bent low and hoisted him over my shoulder. He howled with pain. Ivarr pushed past me, heading back up the stairs. “Where’re you going?” I demanded.
“I’ll slow them down.”
“The Hel you will,” I said. “They’ll kill you for sure!”
He shook his head. “I’m a good shot. I’ve had a lot of practice lately.”
Hardane weight heavy on my shoulder, and I knew I’d not be able to carry him that way for long. “Ivarr, no.”
“You can’t stop me, Ginna. Save your brother. Go on!”
And with that, he run back up the stairs. I watched after him like a stupid cow for about a minute, and tears come to my eyes, so by the time I was moving again I was crying almost as bad as Hardane. Ivarr. Ivarr was gone.
The stairs gave into a wide room, full of overturned tables and such as well as a few prisoners still grappling with guards. It didn’t take much to get past them and out of the door into the night.
And near to run smack into Skyg Gaddi’s chest.
I was so shocked I near lost my grip on Hardane, who slid down off my shoulder. Gaddi grabbed him—I thought at first he meant to help, such a fool was I. I let Gaddi catch hold of Hardane for I needed to steady my wounded brother without hurting him worse. Gaddi took the chance to pull Hardane to him, and in a moment he’d his arm under Hardane’s and across his chest, a shard of metal pressed to Hardane’s throat.
“What by the Eye d’you think you’re doing?” I exclaimed.
“You’re going to get me out, Ginna,” Gaddi said, his voice high and desperate. “I know you can. Styrlakker told me about you, your curse—you can get me outta this city. You’ll take me to the docks, straight away!”
“Put him down!” I said.
“I’ll not, and I’ll cut his throat if you don’t do as I say,” Gaddi answered. “You’ll watch your friend die right here!”
I said nothing for a moment, staring in his eyes, and he back into mine.
“And what makes you think I give a fuck about an Officer of Tyr?” I demanded.
Gaddi glanced down at Hardane, which was enough for me—I struck Gaddi hard with the palm of my hand to his nose. He howled and dropped first the shard, then Hardane, who cried out.
Above, the skies were full of bombers, and their screaming filled the air. I tried to pay them no mind as I reached for Hardane. Another cry tore from him as I pulled him, bending to put my shoulder to his chest.
A blow rocked my head to the side—Gaddi’d knocked me in the ear, and now it was ringing worse’n the bombers above.
“Fucking whore!” Gaddi shouted, and I felt his boot connect with my ribs as I hit the hard street. “What is he, one of your johns, eh? Did you fuck him so’s he’d let you loose?”
I turned in time to see Gaddi swinging the metal shard towards Hardane’s head.
My vision rushed over with red.
I charged Gaddi, teeth bared, a roar building in my chest. He caught a glimpse of me and stumbled away, holding the shank up half defensive-like, half in surrender, his eyes so wide you could see the whites all around the pupils.
“Frigga have mercy!” he gasped.
I yanked the shard from his hand and slashed him across the face. A red line of blood opened from his forehead, ’cross his nose and cheek. Gaddi yelped and wheeled away, hands to his wound.
Above us the screech of an aeroplane grew horribly loud. Through my red vision I stared up and seen the door in the belly of the bomber open, black cylinders dropping to hit just one street away—they were targeting Grumflein again, sure enough.
The explosion knocked Gaddi and me both from our feet. Fear for Hardane dimmed the red in my vision and as I looked around, Gaddi scrambled to his feet.
“I’ll have every one of’em you call family dead for this!” Gaddi gasped out. “I’ll kill each one of’em myself!” At that he bolted into the night.
Hardane was lying still, though, and how could I follow Gaddi when I had to try to save my brother?
I stumbled over to his side, the red seeping away from my sight. Hardane’s ear bled, the top cut clean off by Gaddi’s shank, I reckoned. The explosion hadn’t done him any worse injury, though. I patted him down from neck to ankles, just to be safe.
The city was smoldering already—the hum of another bomber high in the sky above built louder and louder. I half-carried, half-dragged Hardane away from Grumflein, looking over my shoulder the whole way, hoping to see Ivarr run free from the door I’d left.
I carried Hardane best as I could round the side of the prison to the widest avenue what ran near it, known unofficially as the Avenue of Sorrows, on account of how many come there to weep when their loved ones got locked away. I knew of a shaft down to the Undergrunnsby some distance down that avenue, and I’d an idea I’d best get Hardane far from Grumflein and the northern districts in general—what with the palace also being an obvious target and all. I didn’t know where to take him, other’n that, though. I needed a doctor or a nurse or even a vigja, but the city was under attack. Where would we go?
The
bombers’d spread out in the sky overhead, and one was coming towards us, and no mistake.
I thought of the apartment where I’d met Myadar, but that weren’t far at all from the palace and going there’d be as bad as going to the palace itself what with how the bombers hardly aimed when they let their loads go, seemed like.
I stopped when I’d got to a bend in the Avenue of Sorrows what’d take me out of sight of the prison once and for all. I’d no heart for leaving it behind, knowing Ivarr was still inside.
The bomber dipped in the sky and another explosion further off lit everything up like a moment of sunrise. Against that light I seen the doors under the great aeroplane open and black eggs fall out.
“No,” I said, as I watched one of the eggs falling straight for Grumflein.
The impact rocked me off my feet. I screamed. Ivarr was still in that building—that building what’d had a wall just a moment ago, but now that wall was a shower of rubble—that side of the building—was it the side we’d been on?
Then Hardane’s screams got hold of my attention, and nothing less’d have done the trick. I was halfway down the street to the prison when I heard them. I’d no memory of how we fell when the bomb hit. I know now he must’ve hit his bad side, for some of the slivers were in fair deeper’n they had been at first.
My vision dimmed as I stood in the middle of the avenue. It washed over gold, then, with a wave of red what passed as soon as it come, leaving only gold.
Calm spread over me with the golden sight. I knew I could do nowt to help Ivarr now, but my brother’d die if I left him where he was. I had to carry him to safety, and all of a sudden, I knew which way to go.
About the Author
Sophia Martin lives in Mount Shasta with her husband, two sons, dog, and two cats. When she’s not carving out an hour here and there to write, she’s usually playing with her little boys, reading a novel, hiking, cooking, or dreaming about traveling. Last year she finished her masters in American history, which helps when you write stories based in part on history.
After the Fall (Raud Grima Book 2) Page 32