She waited, listening intently, but glancing from time to time over at Questioner, for she'd already learned the maimalodalu would hear anything significant long before she did.
Still, the sound of renewed footsteps into the room came to all of them at once. They were heavy, as if weighted down, and when the door vibrated in its frame, Rahniseeta understood.
From somewhere they'd scavenged something to make a ram. She stepped back nearer to the window, knowing this was not a threat she could stop with a blow to the fingers.
"Got it, Elwyn?" she heard Tedgewinn say. "On three. You can count it off."
"I got it!" Elwyn replied brightly, happy as always to be part of the team. "One, two, three!"
The old door shuddered beneath the first several blows, each hit prefaced by Elwyn's cheerful count. Inevitably, the old wood shattered into splinters and the two men came barreling through.
Momentum carried them into the middle of the room at a hard, stamping run. Their weight, combined with that of the heavy chunk of wood they had used for a ram, was too great for the damaged beams supporting the floor. With a shriek and a sound of tearing, several of the old support beams sagged, then snapped. Without them to rest upon, the floor gave out, planks breaking and twisting as they tore free. Elwyn and Tedgewinn fell with the rest of the litter.
Around the falling bodies, tile fell like hard rain.
* * *
Chapter XXXVIII
I don't know what good my sitting here does," Firekeeper said. "Waln is secure in his lair, and so we have rushed here for nothing."
Truth looked at the wolf-woman from those unsettling orange-gold eyes. The jaguar was clearly struggling not to be dragged back into the depths from which Firekeeper had dragged her, and the battle had not improved her temper.
"Are you now a swimmer in Time's rivers to tell me this with such confidence?"
"No," Firekeeper said. She struggled not to sound like a sulky child. "But I have done nothing but say a few words to Waln and he do nothing."
"You mean," Blind Seer said before Truth could frame a suitably caustic reply, "that he did not do what you desired. Why does this surprise you?"
"It does not," Firekeeper admitted, "but when Truth say we must run hard and fast to get here or all chance of stopping them would be gone… I thought more would happen."
Truth met Firekeeper's gaze and the wolf-woman noted uneasily that the jaguar was struggling to keep her in focus.
"Let me tell you things that would have happened had we not been here," Truth purred. "First, a young wolf of your acquaintance, one Dark Death, would have seen the man you name Rarby walking patrol around the tower. Thinking to impress you, Dark Death would have seized Rarby and killed him.
"In one deep current, Dark Death succeeds, but in some way Rarby's death makes the others fight more fiercely. In another deep current, Rarby kills Dark Death before—usually—dying himself. Dark Death's dying, witnessed by his pack members, moves them to fury. They attack the humans and many on both sides are slain including—I may add—one who must be taken from here alive if we are to claim victory."
Firekeeper did not doubt that those unfocused eyes saw realities that had not happened. She tried to ignore her own pleased embarrassment that Dark Death would think her worth impressing.
"And my being here stopped this?" she asked.
"Yes. Dark Death saw that you did not wish the humans slaughtered, so his thought to impress you in that fashion died before he could act on it. Had we taken more time getting here… "
Firekeeper nodded.
"I stand humbled, Truth."
"You have done more than stand," Truth said, and to Firekeeper's relief her gaze flickered to follow a butterfly dancing on a flower head. "You have been a good teacher."
"Me?"
"Don't you recall how the first thing you did upon arriving here was warn all the yarimaimalom that the humans carried crossbows?"
"But they knew that!"
"But they did not know just how deadly those bows are, or how far they can strike. You—and Blind Seer—made this clear."
Blind Seer laughed softly.
"Bows and the danger they pose were among the first things I studied when I resolved to stay with my Firekeeper."
"Although we have lived close to humans," Truth said, "only those of us who delight in hunting in company—such as wolves—have seen bows in use. The Water Folk know something of harpoons, for humans cannot tell Wise from Simple when they are hunting and the humans here rely much on oil taken from whales and their kin."
Normally, Firekeeper would have asked questions about the Water Folk, but nothing could distract her from the matter at hand.
"Do you yet see how long we wait?" she asked, trying to sound humble rather than impatient.
Truth licked her front paw, worrying at the sheath of a claw.
"Not too much longer," she said. "Listen to the ravens!"
Firekeeper did and heard reported how the humans were moving about the tower, then the warning that they had reached high enough that those waiting on the forest's edge might not be so well hidden as before.
Firekeeper howled reply, pleased to be a One in this matter of hunting humans. It was a minor promotion, one that would not last beyond the hunt, but it was new to her and thrilled her blood.
She listened as Bitter reported the bird-woman maimalodalu, Hope, safely down, and the resolution of the others to remain inside until the humans could be distracted from their watching over the tower's edge.
"I do not like that we have our own in there," Firekeeper admitted. "Waln knows this taking of hostages. I do not wish them to be taken so."
"You might find yourself wishing otherwise," Truth said enigmatically, "in not too long."
Before Firekeeper could make herself ask the arrogant cat to clarify her comment, a rhythmic thudding came from the tower. Firekeeper surged to her feet, waiting to hear the raven's report. Her bow stave was in her hand, and she held it ready to bend and string.
When the horrible cracking noise came, confusedly, Firekeeper thought her bow had broken as she bent it to fit the string, but the stave remained in her hand, the string loose. Then she realized that the cracking noise was only one of many.
Oddly, impossibly, the tower of Magic was shaking, the stonework seeming to ripple as did the scales on a snake when the snake was hurried. Mortar showered loose and stones fell. The flat side of the half-moon suddenly showed gaping holes where patches had been ripped loose. More stone fell and what glass remained in the windows broke, scattering rainbows as it fell.
Firekeeper ran to close the distance, the difference between enemies and friends vanished in the face of this larger disaster. The raven Lovable swept out of the sky and winged alongside her.
"The beams holding the third floor above those below were weak and broke when weight was put upon them," Lovable reported. "The force of that breaking has weakened still more. For now parts still stand, but I do not know how much longer."
"And those within?"
"Some are blood upon stone," Lovable said, "but some still live. The two maimalodalum and the human woman with them were near the side, and still cling. Bitter is checking the rest. We need not fear crossbows now."
This last was said matter-of-factly, but with a certain relief as well. Firekeeper realized how unsettling it must have been for these Wise Winged Folk to face being shot at when in Liglim humans held their arrows lest they injure a divine messenger.
"Lead us," Firekeeper said, "to where Rahniseeta and the maimalodalum wait. Tell your kin to find where others may need rescue."
Lovable gave the necessary guidance, then caught an updraft and sailed off, her hoarse voice shouting Firekeeper's orders even as her beating wings carried her higher.
Firekeeper felt no pride of leadership now, only the fearful awareness that except possibly for a few of the maimalodalum, she alone could help those stranded above.
"I understand now what Truth mea
nt," Blind Seer said, "when she spoke of wishing differently. I could accept the tiresome necessity of a siege as an alternative to this."
Firekeeper grunted agreement, letting her feet slow as she closed with the dangerous zone near the tower. Loose stones fell only occasionally, but there was a sense that the entirety of the structure was unstable.
"Find Derian," she said, "and Harjeedian. Bring them here. This is a time for human hands and human voices—and the maimalodalum will frighten Waln and his people, if any are still alive."
"Several yet live," said the raven, Bitter, landing near Firekeeper. "They were close to a stair and the old humans built well. Much of the stair still clings to the wall. Others had reached a higher section and as the beams there were sounder, some still hold. They will not for long, not with the wall that holds them threatening to fall."
Firekeeper nodded her thanks.
She threw her head back, wishing for wings so she might see the situation as the ravens did, but when she considered the consequences of wishes, she resolved to stop wasting time and focus instead on what she might do.
Rahniseeta's dark head appeared at what had once been a window opening. Her lovely face was smudged with dirt and her eyes wild. Despite this there was about her the tense stability of one who knows that there is room for nothing other than strength.
"Up here! We need help. Sky was hit by something falling and Questioner's… caught."
Firekeeper didn't waste time asking for more details.
"Can you lower one or other? We guide or catch?"
Rahniseeta shook her head. "They're too heavy for me. I've tried."
Something in how she moved alerted Firekeeper.
"You are hurt, too?"
Rahniseeta nodded. "Something hit me. My right arm and shoulder are numb."
"I come up," Firekeeper said.
Firekeeper looked around and noticed a length of rope trailing through the debris. She tugged at it, but too much of it was buried beneath the rubble for her to take time digging it out.
She cast around and located Integrity and Dark Death, both newly arrived, and looking up apprehensively.
"I am going to climb up," Firekeeper said. "Find the maimalodalum and tell them I need hands."
Blind Seer came loping up at that moment.
"I found Derian and Harjeedian," he reported. "They follow close behind."
"Have them dig that rope out," Firekeeper said. "We may need it. Also, don't let them go far. I will need help when I bring those above down."
Blind Seer pressed close.
"You are going up there?"
"They need help. I have hands and feet for climbing this as no beast does. The maimalodalum are mostly larger than I."
Firekeeper shrugged. There was no time for further explanation.
"I only hope," she said, picking her way through the rubble to the vine-wreathed base, "I will not cause it to fall."
She set her hands and feet to the first of the stones, finding rough holds. As she began to climb, Truth spoke from behind her.
"Keep an ear to my voice. If I dip into Time's river, I may be able to guide you."
Firekeeper knew how risky this was for the jaguar, but was it any worse than what she herself was willing to do? She accepted without debate and continued to climb, head tilted up and back to find the next handholds, feet guided by feel alone. She tugged at the vines to see if they would hold her, but their roots were shallow and would not bear any weight.
Several times Truth warned Firekeeper away from a handhold just as she would have rested her weight upon it. Other times the jaguar's coughing roar guided her to set her foot slightly to one side or another. It was painstaking, tedious work, and had the distance been farther, she might not have managed it.
Eventually, nails broken and bloody, the cotton of blouse and trousers torn, her skin scraped and oozing in countless places, Firekeeper hauled herself over the window ledge into what had once been a room.
Many of the crossbeams and braces had broken, but some—built strong by those who wished them to bear the weight of tile in addition to more usual burdens—had survived. Two of these supported a narrow catwalk beneath the window, and on this Rahniseeta knelt next to Sky.
The white feathers on the maimalodalu's eagle head were bloodied, but a rough bandage had been tied around the source of the injury. Sky's other hurts were such that Firekeeper immediately ceased to feel her own aches and scrapes, but he continued to breathe, the sound shallow and painful, but without the bubbling that would announce a punctured lung.
"He spread his wings," Rahniseeta said, looking up from where she had clearly been attending to Sky's wounds, "to shelter me. I almost have him free. Can you get Questioner?"
Firekeeper turned to look and understood at once why Rahniseeta had said nothing more. Where Sky rested on the catwalk beneath the window, Questioner was caught within an interweave of splintered wood, rubble, and less definable detritus. He hung out over the void, and Firekeeper dreaded that his body was integral to whatever web-work supported their tenuous walkway.
She leaned to touch his human face and his blue eyes fluttered open, looked at her from a world of pain, then closed again.
"Rope," Firekeeper said, not voicing her despair.
She rose and went to the window.
"Rope!" she shouted down. "We must have rope."
The scene below had changed while she climbed. Derian was there, as was Harjeedian. Several of the maimalodalum had come out as well. All with hands were working to clear a path through the rubble. There was another cluster around the jaguar Truth, and Firekeeper fleetingly wondered if once again the jaguar was lost in possibility.
Derian looked up at her, his expression filled with confusion, and Firekeeper realized that she had howled rather than spoken.
"I need rope," she said, "to get hurt ones down. Have you some?"
"We've freed up most of a line," Derian said. "But how to get it to you… "
Bitter croaked sardonically and plopped himself down in front of the human, answering the question quite effectively. Derian, accustomed to the ways of the peregrine falcon Elation, extended one end. Bitter took it, adjusted to the weight, and began flapping up while Derian played out the line so it would not become tangled.
As she reeled in the rope, Firekeeper noted that Derian actually seemed relieved at the comparative normality of being ordered around by a bird. Doubtless he had not yet adjusted to his first sight of the maimalodalum.
"How with others?" she asked.
"Harjeedian's trying to get them to calm down," Derian said. "They're a floor or so up from you, but back around the corner, not directly above. I think there are four alive."
Firekeeper didn't bother to ask which ones. Frankly, until these who had a greater claim on her loyalty and skill were safe, she didn't care.
Rahniseeta couldn't feel her right arm below the shoulder, and from the way it flopped when she moved, she was actually glad. With Firekeeper's help, she bound the useless limb close to her torso, and then concentrated on taking orders.
"We lift Sky," Firekeeper said, "you under lower legs. Me upper body. First to window, then over. Lower slowly until those below can catch."
They had rigged a sort of harness around the maimalodalu's upper body. His scales were tougher than those of a snake and Rahniseeta hoped they might protect him some. However, there was no way the constriction about his torso would do him any good.
But what is our choice? Rahniseeta thought. Leave him here until the building falls?
Before Firekeeper had reached the top, Rahniseeta had taken a chunk of rock and smashed away the slivers of glass that remained in the windowframe. Even so, as they lifted Sky she noted smears of blood on the stone.
"Move legs over edge," Firekeeper ordered, her voice showing no strain, though she held most of Sky's weight. "Hurry. Floor moves."
Rahniseeta hurried, moving Sky's long, scaled legs to dangle over the edge.
; "Now move more," Firekeeper said. "I have rope."
The wolf-woman did, too, wrapped around her body to leave her arms free. They hadn't trusted the stonework to provide a solid anchor.
Rahniseeta felt as if she was pushing Sky out of the window, but the rope slowed his descent, and as she leaned out to grab hold and help steady, she saw that an enormous maimalodalu who resembled a bear as much as anything was standing directly below. They felt the change as soon as he had hold of Sky.
"Get rope," Firekeeper ordered, releasing it from her body as soon as they knew Sky was supported from below. "I check Questioner. Yell. See if they can help you down."
"And leave you and Questioner?"
Firekeeper shrugged.
"Less weight on floor."
Rahniseeta didn't think the wolf-woman could manage alone, so although she retrieved the rope and coiled it ready for use, she did not attempt to descend. Instead, moving as carefully as possible, she went to help Firekeeper.
"Is he alive?"
Firekeeper snorted, and Rahniseeta translated the sound as meaning "Do you think I'd bother if he wasn't?"
Instead of asking anything else, Rahniseeta busied herself helping Firekeeper free the maimalodalu from the wreckage. Questioner looked worse than Sky had, but Rahniseeta took some hope from two things. One, a large piece of planking had fallen over his torso, effectively making a lean-to that protected that vulnerable area from greater injury. Two, from time to time, blue eyes opened, watching for a moment with painful clarity.
One by one they freed the dangling legs, and in another demonstration that he was aware, Questioner drew them close to his body—all but the left foreleg, which he tried to move and then stopped with an involuntary moan of pain. Firekeeper ripped a strip from her already ragged trouser and tied his leg to Questioner's body.
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