“Then we do not tell him. Do you want to know what is going on or not?”
Davlin rolled his eyes, and Will realised he was going to let her go. So, it was up to Will to stop this; it was just too dangerous.
“If you do this, I will tell Conlan,” Will said. “This is dangerous, Eleanor. Davlin needs to do it.”
“I do not think he can,” Eleanor snapped, and the disappointment in her eyes stabbed at him. “I thought you had learnt not to underestimate me.”
Will sighed. “I am not underestimating you, I am being realistic. If you were in perfect health I would have fewer reservations, but you are totally drained, no energy. I can feel that from here. I know how difficult it is to operate in those circumstances, and you want to climb twenty feet up a wall and fight a guard. That is an unacceptable level of risk.”
Eleanor stared at him. “Since when has living in Mydren been about an ‘acceptable level of risk’? I am doing this—so fine, tell Conlan what you want. Make out that I tricked you both, ran off when you were not looking, whatever. Just promise me you will not get Davlin in trouble over this.”
“No,” Will said, feeling mean and small. “Conlan tethered Davlin to you for this very reason. You seem incapable of thinking of your own safety, but if you do this, there will be repercussions for Davlin. Painful ones, I would imagine. So think now: is this little mission worth the risk to him?”
Eleanor hesitated. Just then the woman’s scream came clearly to them again, sounding even more desperate. Eleanor and Davlin looked at each other, and both nodded.
“Yes, Will, it is worth the risk,” Eleanor snapped.
Will nodded his defeat. “Very well. Please be careful.” Eleanor ignored him, turning to Davlin.
“We will meet you at the gate,” Davlin said, handing Eleanor one of his razor-sharp knives.
Eleanor nodded, slipped the knife down the side of her boot and started climbing. Will felt his heart lurch seeing her trembling limbs, but he had precious little time to worry about it. Davlin had already set off at a dead run for the main gate, and Will had to push himself to catch up. By the time they reached the gate, Will was panting and the screaming had stopped. The silence was more oppressive than before. They waited, both of them looking at the gate anxiously, every second an agony of inaction.
They heard a thud against the large barrier before them.
“Now!” Eleanor’s growled order was muffled from the other side of the thick gate. They heard the sound of wood sliding across wood. Another thud, then the gate opened a fraction, allowing Davlin and Will to squeeze through. A young boy with blond hair, in a Protector’s uniform several sizes too big for him, stood sniffling in front of them.
Will raised an eyebrow at Eleanor and she shrugged. “I did not hurt him—just frightened him.”
“What do we do with him now? He could raise the alarm,” Davlin asked, giving the boy a look that made him quiver, his tears running more freely.
“Put him outside and bolt the door again,” Eleanor said, as if this were obvious.
Davlin grinned, grabbed the boy by his collar, pulled the door open again and shoved him outside. He slammed the door shut, ignoring the boy’s frantic banging as he slid the large wooden bolts back into place.
The streets of Merckley were as devoid of life as the walls and gatehouse. They moved on almost silent feet towards the centre of the small town, where the boy had told Eleanor everyone was. And sure enough, when they stepped out of an alley, it seemed like the whole town were crowded into the large open space that made up the market area. Yet there were no stalls or stands set up—they were not there to shop.
As Will got closer, he noticed that most people were staring in silent, uncomprehending horror and disgust at what looked like a large pile of wood off to their right. Eleanor gasped, her energy pushing into Will’s head with so much force he winced.
Will, there are people up there!
As Will focused closer on what he realised were the preparations for a huge bonfire, he saw the woman and child, tied together, almost hidden by the timber around them.
They’re going to burn them alive… Will murmured.
Eleanor nodded, eyes widening.
A tall Protector, wearing the red sash of a captain proudly across his chest, marched through a gap in the crowd to their left and came to stand in front of the bonfire. He did not seem to be able to look at anybody in the crowd, but his voice was strong, loud and clear as he spoke.
“We live in troubled times. Evil walks among us, but through our constant vigilance we have located this evil and today we will destroy it. We have found the Avatars known as Eleanor and Amelia. Now they will pay for the wickedness they have perpetrated. Bring in the fire!”
While the Captain gave his little speech, the horror on Eleanor’s face become shock and then hard resolution. Will knew what was coming before her disbelief exploded through his head.
We have to do something, Will!
He nodded. He was no more willing to watch this atrocity than Eleanor, but he had no idea what to do about it that would not end up with them getting caught.
Okay—what?
Will watched the rapidly churning thoughts hurtle through Eleanor’s head as flickers of half-formed expressions showed on her face.
I have almost no energy, and I’m not sure what use it would be if I did. I don’t think water energy is going to help us here either, but I have an idea. Follow my lead, but see if you can make it towards the woman and child. You might need to step in to rescue them, okay?
Right—what lead…? Eleanor, wait!
He was too late; Eleanor had already disappeared, taking her energy string with her. Panic crossed Davlin’s face as he realised she had gone, and he shot off into the crowd after her. What is she up to now? Not having any answers to this question, Will began moving slowly forwards and to the right, heading towards the side of the bonfire, trying not to draw too much attention. He extended his senses as he moved and quickly located a well on the other side of the bonfire. Can I pull water out of it? Would he be able to draw enough to drench the wood before his energy gave out? Should he risk it given how unstable his energy could be? If the water was spotted, would it just confirm the townspeople’s opinion of those they intended to burn? A rescue mission won’t be necessary if they can’t light the wood. Besides, the well is hidden behind the pyre. Deciding this was the safer option for those on the pyre, Will began trying to consolidate his energy for the task he was about to attempt.
He came to a stop at the edge of the disturbingly quiet crowd, close enough to reach the wood pile if he took a few more steps forward. With several deep breaths he tuned everything out, focusing only on the water. Taking a firm grip, he began dragging it up the walls of the well. It felt like trying to lift a large net full of jelly, very heavy and unwieldy; waves in the moving liquid kept being caught on jutting parts of the wall and pulled out of his control. Getting enough water out this way before the fire was lit was going to be incredibly difficult. He watched a Protector walk through the crowd towards the bonfire holding a burning torch aloft; he felt the ripple of fear and horror that travelled through the crowd. It distracted him. The water he had pulled dropped back. He caught it, beads of sweat running down the sides of his face with the effort.
Concentrate! Two innocent lives depend on it!
Building his control, he pulled the water back up the wall one agonising inch at a time. Over the pounding of his labouring heart in his ears he heard Davlin’s deep voice pipe up from the back of the crowd.
“If they are Avatars, where are their brands?”
People in the crowd began looking at each other, nodding their support. The Protector with the torch stopped and turned towards the comment, just as another voice, Eleanor this time, spoke up from the other direction.
“Yes, if they are Avatars, prove it! Show us their brands! All Avatars have them, everyone knows that!”
There were mumblings of discontent
among the crowd. The Protector with the torch looked anxiously at his captain.
“I know them—they are from the next town. They are not Avatars,” claimed another voice, one Will was quite sure was neither Davlin nor Eleanor.
“We have checked the validity of the claims—” the captain started.
“Liar! Prove it now!” Davlin’s voice again, from a different part of the crowd. There was a collective gasp, then more furious muttering. Colour rose on the captain’s cheeks.
“They are Avatars! Sergeant, get your men in here!” The captain’s voice rose to a frantic yell.
“If they are Avatars, then you will have no problem proving it. Show us their brands,” Eleanor yelled from yet another part of the crowd, making her voice a little deeper than normal.
“I do not need to prove anything,” the captain spat, staring at the increasingly agitated crowd around him as the requested sergeant marched into the square with twenty Protectors and formed a circle around the captain and the pyre.
“Ermmm…” piped up a clear male voice from the front of the crowd. “Actually, Captain, you do have to prove the validity your judgements if requested by the people. It was part of the accordance signed when Merckley came under the Lord’s protection.”
“It would rain in the Whispering Sands before the Lords would agree to those terms,” the captain shot back. The man at the front of the crowd took a brave step forward, and several Protectors on the edges of the crowd notched arrows onto their bows. The small, balding, well-dressed older man gulped, but did not step back.
“I helped the town council write the document forty years ago. I know what is in it. We have the right to demand proof.”
“We want proof! We want proof!”
The chant rose and fell. It may have been started by Eleanor and Davlin, but it was soon taken up by many others, filling the square with one insistent demand. As the council scribe and Captain of the Protectors argued their corners against the backdrop of the angry crowd, Will let his body relax slightly. The water made it over the lip of the well, slapping against the cobblestones as it landed, and he sent his energy immediately back down the well for more. As he reached the bottom and pushed his energy through the water, he felt a pull—that was the only way to describe it—as if his energy was being yanked away from him, towards somewhere else, out of his control. Terror and panic surged through him and Will struggled to pull his energy free. The pull came again, stronger this time, tearing Will away. With his last threads of rational thought he realised what was happening: the town had a large reservoir feeding the well, and he was too close, with not nearly enough containment around his energy. Must save them, must save them, must save them. This was all the thought in his head as his energy slammed into the huge expanse of water… and he lost himself.
“Will!”
That word meant something. Water could not remember what it was, but did not care; all it wanted was a way out, there had to be a way out. The wood must not burn—that meant something too. There was more awareness now, an understanding, the ability to find weakness in the place that confined it, to exploit it. Waves, small at first, were getting bigger, pounding against the sides, the loose parts of the structure shuddering and snapping.
“Will!”
A dam; the structure was called a dam. The knowledge came from somewhere. Water did not care. Just needed to leave—no fire.
“Will, please!”
Human, female, crying. Eleanor. That meant something. Must save them. Must save them. Must save them. The thought brought Will back to himself and his body in a jarring rush just as the reservoir broke free, gallons and gallons of water bearing down on them, sweeping clear everything in its path. He forced his eyes to open; Eleanor and Davlin were crouched next to his fallen body, worry in their eyes; the town was still roaring its demand for proof.
“Reservoir,” he blurted out, his fear making the words sharp. “Breached! Water is coming; we have to warn them.”
Eleanor looked confused for a moment, and then through the cobblestones beneath them they felt the rumbling, and she figured it out. Standing, she stared at the still-chanting crowd around them, her expression one of desperation. How would they hear her over the noise?
Closing her eyes, Eleanor’s head dropped. When she lifted it again her expression was the empty, cold, indifferent look that Will had come to associate with Earth.
“Hear me, people of Merckley.”
Silence fell. Eleanor’s voice was deep as the ocean, cavernous and vast, with a grinding of tectonic plates beneath it, old as time. It echoed off the walls of the square and thumped against the bodies of those present, giving the impression it was coming from everywhere at once, which meant nobody seemed to notice it was Eleanor doing the talking.
“I am the Avatar of Earth, and I give you a warning. Your reservoir has breached, and the water is a torrent, coming to flood you. Feel the vibrations under your feet and leave now, for your own safety.”
For one frozen moment, Will thought they were going to ignore the warning, but by now the rushing water tearing through the town, heading for them all, could be heard as well as felt. Panic erupted, and people began running, screaming, shouting, shoving. Eleanor released her grip on Earth and collapsed into a senseless heap, all her energy drained once again. Will crawled to her, shielding her body from the trampling feet around them as Davlin took advantage of the chaos to dart forward, climb into the pyre and cut the woman and the child free. The woman wept hysterically, clinging to Davlin in a way that made Will think she was not going to be persuaded to let go easily.
“We have to go,” Davlin yelled over to Will, trying to be heard above the noise of the crowds and the wailing woman gripping him.
Will nodded and pulled Eleanor into his arms, dragging himself to his feet, his vision spinning, blood pounding noisily in his head. He took two steps before someone knocked into him and he collapsed again. A careless boot stamped on the hand he had put out to steady himself, and someone else kicked him in the side as they tripped over him. With his breath gasping in his lungs, terror seized his heart. Another rushing foot kicked Eleanor’s head, and Will pulled her into him, using his arms and body to protect her. He took several more bruising kicks before he felt strong hands helping him back to his feet.
“Move!” Davlin yelled, dragging Will, the screaming woman and her child towards the main gate. Together they stumbled forward like a large mutant animal, shambling about because none of its limbs worked together properly. Davlin tried to get them to run, but Will knew he was incapable and shook his head. Davlin frowned, glancing over his shoulder. A few streets away a wall of water was moving towards them.
“Can you stop it?” Davlin yelled. Will did not waste breath replying, just shook his head.
“It is going to reach us before we get out of here, so is there anything you can do, Avatar of Water, or are we all going to drown?”
Davlin’s accusing tone was like an electric shock through Will’s brain, forcing him to think. Not stop—divert? Will ceased running, Davlin sliding to a halt beside him.
“Down, small, against the wall,” Will ordered, placing Eleanor where he wanted them to go. Davlin nodded, pulling the woman and child close against the wall beside Eleanor, pinning them down. The terror in the girl’s eyes seemed contained by her incomprehension, but the woman could hear the water, recognised the danger and tried to run, scratching, hitting and kicking Davlin in her panic and desperation. The water was too close.
“Against the wall, Davlin!” Will ordered.
Davlin gave up trying to wrestle the woman into place and instead punched her hard in the face. She crumpled into his arms, and he dragged her over to the now-sobbing girl and a still-unconscious Eleanor.
Will planted his feet wide and placed his palms against the wall above Davlin and the others, at shoulder height, like he was going to get a patdown from the police, not attempt something potentially suicidal. Pulling all his control and concentrat
ion to him, he dropped his head. From beneath the arch Will had created with his body, Davlin looked up at him. Will gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile before closing his eyes.
The water was nearly upon them. Will felt the breeze as it pushed the air forward in front of it, and then it was there, funnelled down the street, bearing down upon them. Will could hear the screams cut off as the water pulled the fleeing people into its grasp, dragging their bodies along. He focused on directing the water around him, not stopping it, just making it take a slightly different path. The pull, the urge to join the raging torrent was immense, but he resisted with everything he had, pushing the water past him, as if the shape he had made with his body were a boulder the water had to move round, the path of least resistance. Water slapped against his back, his legs, shoulders and arms, soaking him; occasionally things hit him, solid, bruising things that had been picked up by the flood. Will stood his ground, gritted his teeth and resisted the water’s draw, fixated on maintaining the protection he was giving, listening to his heartbeat strain and feeling his energy fade.
For an eternity the water surged against him, and then finally, slowly, the force left it, the level dropping rapidly. As the water dropped down below his knees Will let go and opened his eyes. Davlin gave him a grateful smile, and the woman stared at him with awe, blood dripping from her swelling nose and making pink spots on her blouse. Eleanor’s face was pale with fatigue, but she was conscious now; she stared into Will’s eyes, her expression dark and hard as she comforted the little girl. She thinks this is your fault… and she’s right! hissed a vicious voice in his head.
Pushing back from the wall, Will stood. The world tilted, and he collapsed with a splash back onto the waterlogged cobble-stones. Davlin slid underneath his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. The woman, now calmed, took the other side, and Eleanor followed with the girl.
Not surprisingly, the path to the gate was now empty of people. Will tried not to look at the bodies and destruction. You did this, because you’re weak and pathetic, the vicious voice said, not letting up. Will longed for the crushing headache that, judging by the bright sparks across his vision, was on its way… because at least it would, mercifully, shut down all thought.
Will (Book 2) Page 28