by Wendy Wang
Yes, I can hear you. Can you hear me?
******
“Gordon's right Neala,” Sorrel whispered. “We should gather everyone and just go through to Nescien. We'll figure things out from there.”
“And what if they follow us through?”
“Why would they?” Gordon asked. “This doesn't look like any of your paintings and they really can't pass through unless they have an affinity for earth. They would need one of us to get through.”
Neala shifted her head to the side and watched Cilla across the room. The young woman sat on the couch. Her eyes kept looking at the door as if she was waiting for something. Neala thought about reading her but was almost afraid of what she might find. It was obvious she wanted to be somewhere else. With her husband no doubt. There would be no execution now. Peter had won. He had Cai and in a few hours he would have her kingdom. Her eyes prickled.
“You know I never thought I would be the kind of person willing to run away to save my own hide,” Neala said softly.
“Now you listen to me, Your Majesty,” Gordon stooped down next to her and touched her arm, something he rarely did. It made her look at him. “You are not running away. You are regrouping to fight another day. If you stay here and die, then there's nothing left for any of us to fight for. But if you survive then it gives us all the hope we need to carry on.”
“He's right Neala,” Sorrel said. “You’re not being a coward.”
Neala looked past Gordon's head, settling her gaze on Y'Ana sitting cross legged in front of the door. Was the child waiting for Cai? Her heart wrenched at that thought and she rubbed her hand across the ever-growing bump in her belly. She didn't have just herself to think about anymore and she both loved and hated the idea.
Neala shifted her gaze back to Gordon and his warm green eyes. She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I hate you for it, but you’re right.”
“I have never been so happy to be hated in my life,” he smiled and squeezed her arm. A moment later he pushed to his feet and went to gather them up.
******
D’Raq lifted his head. “She heard me.”
“Who? Cilla?” Egan asked.
“No. Y’Ana,” D'Raq mumbled and held up a hand to silence them. His eyes closed and he furrowed his brow. “I think I just reached Cilla too. But I’m not certain.” The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as if he was trying to concentrate harder. “The wall is still blocking me.”
“That’s good. It’s progress. Let's try again,” Egan said.
D’Raq gave him a curt nod and placed his hand over the vine running up the stair case. None of them were willing to chance getting too close to the gargoyles. They had put one more warden between them and the gargoyles and D’Raq was controlling him to mimic D’Raq’s movements. The warden placed his hand over the vine too.
The vine quivered and it began growing again, digging into the stone, inching up the wall towards the perches. Only one of the gargoyles turned his head and eyed the creeping plant. It twitched its tail and brought its gaze back to the warden in the middle of the room. Egan held his breath, watching the vine wrap itself around the base of one of the perches. Another offshoot slithered towards the second perch. It twined itself around the base, skulking forward little by little. The gargoyle threw a glance over its wing and the vine stopped. Its leave trembled and the gargoyle hissed at it but it didn’t act. The gargoyle turned its attention back toward the warden. In the time it took to let out a breath both vines surged around the two gargoyles pinning them tightly to their perches. A high-pitched screech reverberated through Egan's skull and sharp pain stabbed at his ear drums. Egan pressed his hands tightly to his head, moving away from the sound. It did little good though and the sound shook through his bones. If it didn’t stop soon, he thought his head might explode from the pain of it.
D’Raq shook his head and he flexed his jaw. His fingernails dug into the skin of the vine and it surged again cocooning the screeching gargoyles heads’. The sound didn’t stop, but the thick vines muffled it enough to make it bearable.
The two free gargoyles attacked the warden. One with fire and one with his claws. He had no chance to scream before their talons ripped out his throat. He fell to the floor in a bloody heap and the gargoyles turned on the vine. One sliced and ripped the vine out of the wall. Another let loose a spray of fire, burning away the leaves and thick woody stems holding the other two gargoyles in place. Once free, they squawked in relief and chattered with the other two and all returned to their perches.
D’Raq hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Hargett sat back on his haunches and scrubbed his face. There was almost nothing left of the vine spanning the room. Only ash and smoldering wood in the center of the smoky chamber. A fresh green vine ran beside them in the hallway but the gargoyles saw the vine for the enemy it was now.
Egan knelt down and didn't take his eyes off of the wall. He waited for the smoke to clear and when it did a grin spread across his face. He patted D’Raq’s shoulder and gestured for him to take a look. A small rectangular black line appeared to the left of one of the stones near the base of the tower. A hole in the mortar. It was barely large enough for any of them to stick a baton through but it was plenty large enough for D'Raq to contact Cilla.
D’Raq chuckled and his down-trodden expression disappeared. He clapped his hand on Egan’s shoulder and shook it, laughing harder. “We did it my friend.”
“Yes, we did,” Egan said. “But we’re not in yet.”
D’Raq’s smile faded and his laugh morphed into a half-hearted sigh. “Indeed. We still have much to do.”
“Yep,” Hargett added. “We still gotta figure out how to get past those nasty little beasts.”
Egan scowled and nodded his head. At the moment, a thousand miles seemed a shorter walk than the space between them and inside of that tower. Egan thought about asking the goddess to intervene but thought better of it — he wasn’t much of a believer to begin with — why would she help them bring down the queen. No, the better woman to ask, would be his wife. At least he knew he could count on her.
Twenty-Eight
Cilla? Can you hear me?
Yes. Who are you?
My name is Sinjon D’Raq. I am a friend of your husband's.
He’s with you? Is he safe? Cilla shifted on the couch praying that the queen was too wrapped up in her own emotional turmoil to hear what was going on.
Yes. For the moment. Is my niece with you? Y'Ana Fein?
Yes. She can hear you too.
How do you know that?
Cilla glanced at Y'Ana sitting by the door with her back to it. She hugged a dolly in her arms.
She told me. She — showed me a memory of you. It was when she was very small. I'm amazed she can remember that far back.
Is she happy being there with you and the queen?
I don't know that she's ever been happy in her life.
Who is there with you?
I won't tell you if you're going to kill them all. I am a healer by nature. I do not approve of killing out of spite. And don't lie to me. I'll know.
How will you know? You are not a Wood Kael.
No, but I’m a mother. And we have an intuition about these things.
I see. She thought she heard him chuckle in her head. You are also a negotiator. Very well then. I won’t attempt to kill the queen. But I cannot speak for your husband. His anger runs deep and his loyalty is to the Emperor.
You don't have to tell me about my husband's anger or his loyalties. I'm very familiar with both.
Indeed. I’m sure you are.
This is only a small group and I have my children with me as well as the queen’s niece. Tell my husband he must promise his actions will not bring harm to the children.
I’ll tell him.
The queen is here, as is her seer Sorrel Qinsa. And her personal guard Captain Gubler. My mother is with us also.
Is that everyone?
Yes.
<
br /> Where's the chief commander?
He's been captured by the Emperor.
I see. The queen must be beside herself.
Yes. I suppose. She’s also four months pregnant, so her emotions are already running high.
How powerful is she? The queen.
Very. From what I've seen.
Thank you Cilla.
What are you going to do?
Silence filled the space between them.
Hello? Are you still there? Hello?
Panic fluttered in her chest and she gathered part of the blanket covering Danny in her fist. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for something they could hide behind. Something that would protect them if Egan decided to blast his way into the room.
Gordon stepped into the parlor and held up his hands. “Could everyone gather around for just a moment? There is something we all need to discuss.”
Her mother emerged from the small kitchen and slung a tea towel over her shoulder. Her knuckles whitened from her grip of her wooden spoon. Cilla tried to ignore Y’Ana standing by the door now, with her palm pressed flat against it. A loud explosion wrung through the tower, waking Tom and Danny. Panic darkened all of their faces.
“Y’Ana no!” Cilla cried out.
The locks on the door clicked and Y’Ana stepped back. The man from Y’Ana’s memory stood in the door, wearing a serene smile on his face. He knelt down in front of the child. “Hello Y’Ana. Do you remember me?”
Y’Ana nodded and a wide smile lighted her face making her seem almost translucent. Her little voice rang out, clear and bright, “Uncle Sinjon.”
******
The room exploded around them and wardens stormed inside. Neala pulled her dagger from its sheath and forced the heavy wood table to flip onto its side. Sorrel and Gordon took cover beside her, firing on the men who once had pledged to give their lives for her. She didn’t know how they had been turned against her but it didn’t matter now. A succession of fireballs shot from the tip of her dagger and Gordon fired bolts of lightning from his baton. Even Sorrel joined the fight, throwing her metal stars.
Neala peeked around the edge of the table, scanning the parlor. Where was Y’Ana? They couldn’t leave without the child.
Her heart stuttered in her throat at the sight of Egan Crane taking his sons’ hands and leading them towards the exit. Cilla followed close behind, her hand clinched tightly around the fabric of Egan’s tunic.
“Majesty,” Gordon said between shots of bolts of white energy. “We have to get you out of here. You have to go through that painting now.”
“Not without Y'Ana,” Neala said, her eyes still searching the room. Where was she? A fireball blasted the corner of the table, sending splinters flying and Neala jumped back, and scooted closer to Gordon. The painting was behind them. She could have just dragged the three of them through, but the thought of leaving Y’Ana behind made breathing hard. And what about Tahlulah? Was she in on Cilla’s treachery? Neala’s gut wrenched. She had invited them into her home, begged Cilla. How stupid of her to trust so blindly. Again.
Y’Ana screamed, somewhere behind the men pinning them down. Standing up, she swiped a long bolt of fire across the room, cutting down several of the men.
“Majesty!” Gordon shouted from nearby. She shook off his hand as it wrapped around hers and tried to pull her back behind the cover of the table. A warden stepped in front of her and took aim. She raised her dagger to dispatch him but a metal star whizzed past her, implanting in his throat and he fell to his knees. The air sizzled with bolts of energy and fireballs but she ignored them all, defending herself from their onslaught with her dagger. From the corner of her eye she saw Tahlulah barricaded in the kitchen behind a short wall made of the same stone as the flooring. The older woman must have called it into action when the wardens invaded the space.
Y’Ana cried again — calling her by name this time. “Aunt Neala.”
Gordon’s fire hit the next warden to come up against her, throwing him aside. She rounded the corner and a man with long curly dark hair and ice-blue eyes was struggling with Y’Ana.
“Let her go!” Neala shouted. His gazed shifted to her, then slid through her and for a moment the world blurred around her into a thick fog. She could still see — he hadn’t struck her down — but nothing before her was clear.
“Neala?” Cai’s voice came from the haze.
“Cai?” she whispered. “Your still alive.”
“Barely. Were you just going to leave me here with Peter? You of all people know what he will do to me before he kills me.”
“Cai — I…”
“I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you — more than anything.”
“Not enough to come after me. To risk your pretty little neck for.” He emerged from the haze and wrapped his hands around her neck before she could stop him.
“Cai, wait.” She clawed at his hands but couldn’t seem to find purchase.
“Did you ever love me? Or was I just a poor substitute for Peter? Is that why you can’t ever stop chasing him?” Cai gritted his teeth together and squeezed, making it harder to breathe.
“Cai,” she croaked.
A sharp pain pierced her right shoulder and the haze cleared. Cai flickered and then finally faded. Her eyes focused and she grabbed at the pain digging into her and drew back a bloody star. Sorrel.
Neala saw the man pick up a screaming Y’Ana. The child reached out for her and Neala with the flick of her wrist threw the star at him, changing its properties with the swipe of her thumb so it would be imbued with her blood.
Y’Ana swiped it away before it could hit him. He glanced back over his shoulder and smirked at her and he disappeared into the darkness of the tower with Y’Ana.
She headed after them but someone grabbed her by the arms and pulled her backwards.
“Majesty, no!” Gordon said.
“You hit me,” Neala said to Sorrel.
“I know. It was all I could think of to bring you back to us. “
“No shame in it. I was too,” Gordon said, pressing his hand against the wound in her back. “Miss Sorrel’s quick thinking saved us both I reckon.”
“He didn’t affect you?” Neala met Sorrel’s fearful gaze.
Sorrel shook her head. “No.”
“Interesting,” Neala muttered. “One day we’ll have a talk about that but for now, all I care about is that he took Y’Ana.”
“Yes, and I’m sorry about that, but once you’re healed we’re going through that painting. It won’t be long before they’re back with reinforcements.” Gordon said.
“What about Tahlulah?” Neala asked. She winced as the heat of Gordon’s healing spread through her shoulder.
“I’m here,” the older woman said crouching behind the table near the base of the painting. “We should go if we’re going. Egan will be back soon. Once we’re in Nescien, I’ll find a veil and pass us back to my farm. Agreed?”
They all nodded. No one mentioned Cilla, or her betrayal and it made Neala’s heart ache to think about losing Y’Ana. It was almost too much to bear, but there was no time for tears or promises of retrieval. A new explosion rocked the tower walls and dust and debris filtered from the ceiling into the already smoky air. A whirring buzz sliced through the air, making them all look for the source. The bloody star hovered in the air above their heads. She glanced at Sorrel, who threw a star at it trying to displace it, but a bolt of lightning struck her in the shoulder, knocking her to the ground.
Neala raised her dagger, and a blinding bolt of light seared her hand, forcing her to drop her weapon. Before she could clutch her hand to her body another bolt hit her in the chest, knocking her backwards. Pain ripped through her heart and ribs, even with her protective chest plate and her lifestone for protection. The world around her caught fire and all she knew was the sensation of falling. For several moments it felt like she might never land but finally she landed on her back and all the air left her bod
y and a sharp pain rocked her head right and darkness descended upon her.
Twenty-Nine
“They've stopped firing,” Hargett said jumping to his feet. He held his hand up and recalled the commandeered star the Queen had dropped.
“Hold on Hargett,” Egan said. Something about the quiet coming from inside the room set Egan's teeth on edge. His skin tingled. “D’Raq, what's going on in there?”
“D’Raq sat on the bottom step with one hand in the air to control the second wave of troops — Toby's men — they'd had to send in after the Queen cut down the first.
D’Raq opened his eyes. “I don't hear her.”
“You don't here who?” Egan said his voice dropping edging into anger.
“The Queen. I heard her but now — she's gone.”
“Dead. You mean, right? She's dead?”
“I don't know. It’s not quite clear. I just don’t hear her.”
“What about the others?”
“There’s a young woman. She’s alive. And a man, but he’s seriously wounded. And— and an older woman.”
Egan got to his feet and pushed his way into the room. When they turned the corner they found most of their men had been killed or seriously wounded and a wall had sprung up in the center of the room cutting them off. Egan growled deep in his throat. His mother-in-law was definitely still alive and fighting him.
“D’Raq order Toby in here. Have him bring the fire cannon,” Egan barked.
“I thought that thing could explode on us in here, Boss,” Hargett said. Egan waved him off and scowled.
Toby walked in the room, carrying the cannon. He slung it up on his shoulder and fired off a huge ball of fire. It hit the wall and exploded. When the smoke cleared though, there was no hole. The floor shook for a moment, and another layer of stone emerged, building its way upwards, reinforcing the wall. Then a third layer began as soon as the second layer reached the ceiling. The layers of wall continued until it pushed Egan and his crew back towards the door.