‘Hadrian and I aren't going anywhere,’ said Seth, feeling his anger stirring again. ‘Thanks to you.’
She sighed and lowered her head. Weathered hands rubbed at her temples. ‘One way or another,’ she said, ‘I promise to resolve your situation.’ Her hazel eyes came up and looked at both of them in turn. ‘When this crisis is past,’ she added. ‘Should our friends here lose, the matter will be somewhat academic.’
‘Yod will get the Flame?’ asked Hadrian.
‘And you really will be ghosts.’ Called by one of the others, she went to turn away, but stopped and added, ‘And by that, I mean dead. But I suppose that might still count as a resolution. What do you think, Seth?’
She had moved off before he could come up with something to say.
I think someone at least owes us an apology. But he kept that to himself, knowing he was being petulant. The universe didn't have to apologise for what happened to him. And ultimately it had been his choice—his and Hadrian's—to follow the path they had taken the last time they had seen the Flame.
I know what I want to do, he had told her then. But he couldn't apologise to himself. That was just ridiculous.
There's no point fighting who you are. That's the one battle you will always lose. So the captain of Hantu Penyardin had told him an aeon and a lifetime ago. If he couldn't fight and he couldn't apologise, what was he supposed to do?
‘Acceptance sounds to me like letting people walk all over you,’ he told his brother.
‘I don't think you've ever done that.’ Hadrian looked sad and frustrated. ‘But it happened, anyway.’
Skender felt the Tomb change course and looked away from Chu's sleeping form to see a cliff face approaching on his right. Somehow they had travelled from the centre of the lake without him being aware of it. There had been a moment when he had sensed Sal and Shilly talking about him through the Change, but beyond that he had been totally focussed on trying with the small amount of the Change he possessed to bring Chu back.
He cursed his inattentiveness to the world around him. The Goddess had asked him to keep an eye on things. She must have done so for a reason. She never did anything without a reason.
If she had arrived in time, he thought, before Marmion had sent Chu and Skender on their mission to distract Yod, perhaps Chu would be well now…
Stop it, he told himself. Things could be worse. Chu could be dead. The plan to embody Yod could have failed. It could be coming to eat us all right now.
When he looked back the way they had come and saw the giant spiny monster rising out of the deep, he quashed any further reassurances along those lines. Flocks of flying devels, tiny in the distance, circled the vast carapace like seagulls over a fishing catch.
Easing Chu into a supine position, he stood. His knees were stiff and sore from crouching for so long. Among the shocked faces and earnest discussions, he saw Warden Banner sitting alone, rubbing the leg that had been broken in Milang.
‘Are you feeling all right? I can call Rosevear for you, if you want.’
She shook her head. ‘I'm just strengthening the binding charm on the break. It's been knocked around a little in recent times and I don't want it to give out on me now.’ Her smile was genuine but weary, just like the curls in her hair. ‘Fat lot of good I'm going to be in a fight, either way.’
‘Don't be so hard on yourself. You'll hold your own.’
‘I'm not a warrior. People train for years to do stuff like that. I was just along to fix the engines.’ She indicated the Tomb with a wave of one hand. ‘If this thing even has engines…’
He understood her feelings of uselessness all too well, but wouldn't let her indulge them. ‘You're an Engineer. I haven't even passed my final examination.’
‘Titles don't mean anything. It's what's inside that matters.’
‘When something like that is coming after you,’ he said, jerking a thumb at the ungainly behemoth following them across the lake, shape visibly changing as it came, ‘I don't think what's inside me is going to do anyone much good.’
‘To the contrary, you might be exactly what we need. Look at that stone shelf, where the shore is narrowest. See how the shelf is leaning out slightly from the crater wall? It's balanced quite delicately. If we could find a way to break that balance and send it crashing down into the lake, we could trigger a wave big enough to give that thing reason to pause.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. Don't underestimate the power of water. Get it moving en masse, and nothing will stand in its way.’
Skender studied the rock formation near the one identifying the resting place of the crashed balloon, but lacked the skills required to see the subtle interplay between mass and gravity that kept the slab in place. ‘How would we break the balance?’
‘You tell me. I don't know anything about the properties of living stone.’
He studied the cliff face, thinking hard, and came up with several complex charms that might do the trick, if Sal was behind them.
‘There's only one catch,’ he said. ‘We'd need to be in contact with the stone to make it work.’
‘That's all right. I'm sure we could get out of the way in time.’
‘That's not what I mean. Look down there.’
She looked where he pointed to the lake shore below. A contingent of earthbound devels was following the Tomb's progress.
‘That's not fair,’ she said. ‘Can't we get a single break?’
‘It would seem not.’
The devels had been seen by others in the Tomb. Marmion emitted one of his ear-splitting whistles.
‘That's the last time I'll do that, I promise you,’ he said, trying for humour. ‘We've come to the end of the road. This is where we're going to put our foot down and say “enough”. The job's not yet finished, and I for one won't be leaving until it is.’ His dark eyes scanned the weary group gathered before him, looking for signs of dissent. He received none, not even from Pukje. ‘Now, we've had word from the outside world, and we may receive some help, but I think it's best to assume we won't get it. We do possess resources we haven't fully drawn on yet. I have some thoughts, and from what I overheard Skender and Banner talking about, they do too. Don't be afraid to suggest or try something—anything—that might buy us some time.’
‘How long do we have to hold?’ asked Lidia Delfine.
‘An hour or less,’ the Alcaide said. Sal stood with his arms folded next to Shilly. Their expressions were identically dispirited.
‘That's not so long,’ said Highson. ‘We can easily manage it after everything else we've done.’
The look on Lidia Delfine's face told Skender that she disagreed, but she kept her mouth shut—as did Griel and all the other seasoned fighters in the group. Skender understood why. He had read enough history to know that wars could be won or lost in seconds, and that half an hour could be half a lifetime on a battlefield.
‘I want the Tomb near the base of the crater wall to act as a last-ditch defence and a shelter for the injured,’ Marmion said. ‘The rest of us will stand before it. Everyone who can fight will, or they must leave what little protection we offer. The time for fence-sitting is past.’ At this he looked specifically at Pukje, who saluted mockingly. ‘Finally, remember that Yod isn't an animal, and it isn't stupid; it's big and it's slow, but it might have things in its favour that we can't begin to imagine. Don't underestimate it. That mistake could be our last.’
He looked at Sal and Shilly, as though checking to see if they had anything to add. They didn't. The Goddess stood to one side, flanked by the ghostly twins in their crystal prison. She had nothing to say either. Skender tried to read her mood, but failed.
‘We came here with a common purpose,’ said Griel. The Panic soldier's leather armour was scuffed and scratched, but he stood proudly at the centre of attention. ‘I'm not leaving until I see it done.’
‘For everyone in the forest,’ agreed Lidia Delfine.
‘For everyone everywher
e,’ said Rosevear.
‘For everyone we've lost,’ said Orma, the young Ice Eater.
‘And for those we can still save,’ added Skender, feeling his face flush. Embarrassment didn't stop him from saying what he knew to be true. If he had to stand over Chu and fight off the devels with his bare hands, he would do it.
‘Thank you,’ said Marmion. The bald warden was visibly moved beneath his usual bluster. There might even have been tears in his eyes. ‘Bring us down, Ellis. There's no point delaying any longer.’
The Goddess nodded and the Tomb began to descend. The slab of stone loomed over them like the prow of a giant ship, its sides worn smooth by time and the elements. The thought that this might be the last thing he ever saw made Skender feel sick.
The Tomb settled on a shelf of stone by the chin of the old man's silhouette. A hole opened in its side, letting in bitterly cold air and the cries of approaching devels. A distant booming, like surf crashing to shore but with a more rapid, syncopated rhythm, could only be Yod, Skender realised. It hurried towards them, making surprising speed on its hundreds of stilt-like legs. Tall antennae waved and probed the air, seeking them through senses unknown.
Marmion led the way outside, flanked by Lidia Delfine and Griel. Skender came in the middle of the group, holding a long-bladed knife Heuve had given him. The devels were downslope, roughly fifty in number and of all shapes and colours. He tried not to think about them any more than he had to. Sword and hook and the warden's skills would keep them at bay for a while. He and Banner had more important work to do.
The natural flows of the Change flexed and tied themselves in knots. Marmion and Sal were already at work. A stiff wind sprang up; dark clouds gathered overhead, further dimming the sun. Skender cut across the jagged scree, looking for a spur of bedrock. Banner followed, limping and taking great care with every step.
‘Perfect.’ A lump of pure gabbro bulged from the side of the crater wall, darker and rougher than the surrounding granite. Skender put both hands against it, wishing Kelloman was there to assist him. He'd never done anything like this before. Mages had died in avalanches from pushing too hard or in the wrong place.
Banner wasn't a Stone Mage, but she was an Engineer. ‘Where's the weak point?’ he asked her when she caught up with him. ‘Where do we focus our effort?’
She studied the cliff face, breathing heavily. A quick and piercingly cold squall flattened her hair and turned the dirt on her face to mud. ‘Here, I think.’ She guided his vision to a complicated intersection between weight-bearing slabs and the tonnes of rock they supported. ‘Nudge that—or break it, even—and you'll start a chain reaction. The whole lot should come down after that, and the slope should channel the force into the water. We should be safe here.’
He took her at her word, even though a lot of them were ‘should’. There was no point doubting her now. ‘Sal!’ Skender let go of the rock to call for his friend. They would need him to supply the big push. ‘Sal, we need you over here!’
Marmion and the others had their hands full fighting the devels. Strange silhouettes leapt and screamed as they tested the defences of the knot of humans and Panic guarding the Tomb from direct assault. Blood in a variety of colours splashed on the icy ground. Screams from all manner of throats shocked the air. Skender gripped his knife more tightly and hoped he wouldn't have to use it.
Sal was visible in the middle of the throng, reaching up with one hand as though to catch the sky. Lightning flashed down, blowing a cluster of devels apart and leaving a vivid purple line across Skender's vision. The crack of thunder was loud enough to hurt. Into its ringing wake, a tube of fiercely spinning wind descended. With a throaty roar it snatched screaming devels up into the air and threw them far away.
The last phenomenon was Marmion's work. Skender recognised the charm as similar to the one the warden had used on the Swarm in Milang. The man's focus and energy were formidable. Sweat dripped from his bald head as he wielded the necessary concentration.
Skender's gaze was drawn to Yod, now more than twice as close to the shore as it had been earlier. The flying devels he had noticed were leaving their giant master behind and swarming for his location.
‘Sal!’ Skender shouted with as much volume as he could muster. ‘Here—quickly!’
Sal heard him. His head came up, brown hair flying loose. He saw Skender and nodded. Taking strong, measured steps he hurried up the slope to where they stood. He quickly absorbed the situation, and nodded at their request. As the battle continued below, he closed his eyes and put his hands on Skender's shoulders.
Skender shivered, feeling the full force of Sal's wild talent rush into him. It wasn't the first time they had joined forces in this way, but even though he had prepared himself it still took him by surprise. Sal's reserves had grown dramatically as the end of the world approached. With such strength behind him, Skender felt that he could not only move mountains, but make them from scratch.
‘Be careful,’ Sal told him through the Change. ‘It's dangerous. We don't want to wreck the landmark too.’
Skender nodded. ‘Just a tap,’ he replied. ‘Just one perfect tap.’
His mind, linked with Banner's, swept along the bedrock into the shelf before them. The weak point hung before him, a tangle of forces poised to spring free. He slipped mental fingers into the knot and began undoing it, using charms he had never dreamed of employing before. Nothing stood between him and his goal; while Sal remained connected to him, his will was absolute.
‘Good,’ breathed Banner. ‘That's it. Keep going. You're doing well.’
It took longer than Skender had expected. Not one tap, but many, all at precise intervals, as the sounds of battle grew louder around him. Yod's rhythmic chuffing grew. He could feel the knot unravelling, centimetre by centimetre. Piercing cries from above reminded him of the dart-like flying devels, and he urged himself to hurry.
A resounding crack, as loud as thunder but very different in quality, came out of the earth. He pressed on, taking that as a sign of progress. Another came, then a third, each higher in pitch, communicated to his ears through his feet rather than the air. Then a deep, drawn-out groan rose up, so low as to be almost inaudible.
All resistance fell away. The knot hung loose. Stones shifted freely, lowing like giant cattle released from a crowded pen. Jostling, impatient, steadily building up momentum, subterranean boulders began to move.
Skender opened his eyes. Nothing had changed on the surface, but that wouldn't last long. The noise was deafening. A cloud of dust rose from the base of the shelf. He was, momentarily, appalled by the audacity of Banner's plan. At their instigation, an amount of rock heavier than most cities was about to fall into the lake, creating a wave large enough to knock down a hundred buildings. That just one warden, one not-quite mage and a single wild talent had dared so much terrified him. That they might succeed was even worse.
Finally, in slow motion, the shelf began to slide. At first it moved in one piece, driven by processes taking place out of sight. Then the subterranean forces became too much for it. The shelf began to break up into sections, which then themselves fragmented. The view was almost instantly obscured but Skender could still read the movements of the stone through the bedrock. He followed its evolution from a single, discrete mass to a flood of smaller pieces in a matter of seconds. He observed the short-lived journey of the avalanche down the crater wall and into the water. He felt the shockwave rippling out across the lakebed, stirring up sediments from their long rest.
And he felt Banner reach into Sal, through him, to add extra impetus to the pressure building in the water. As incomprehensible tonnes of stone slid heavily into the lake, a shelf of water spread towards Yod.
Sal took his hands away, radiating a surprise that echoed Skender's own. They had changed the face of the crater forever. And with any luck they would crush their enemy with one powerful stroke.
Don't underestimate the power of water, Banner had said. Or stone, Skender
added to himself. Together, they were unstoppable.
All heads had turned to watch the spectacle. The devels fell back, waving their misshapen limbs in confusion, as the seemingly innocuous bulge reached the giant creature making its way towards shore. It was close now, close enough to see the joints at the base of the antennae, no different to the joints of the legs below. If it was flipped over, Skender thought, it might look exactly the same. Its crab-like carapace was white around the edges and jagged, like a rough-toothed saw. When the leading edge of the wave reached the stilt-legs, it snapped them cleanly off at the joints and tipped the body's forward edge down into the water. A curtain of spray rose up, and an instant later the roaring noise it made followed. Splitting sounds heralded the cracking of the carapace itself. Antennae tipped and fell like trees under the axe. A deafening shriek added to the cacophony.
Skender put his hands tightly over his ears. Could this be it? he wondered. Could they really have killed the embodied Yod with one decisive stroke? The wave rolled on, breaking over the splintered carapace as he had seen the ocean break over a reef protecting the Haunted City, years earlier. Great slabs of shell rose up on their end, revealing dark grey flesh on their underside. He thought of crabblers with their exoskeletons broken, and remembered being teased in Milang by the forester called Navi. If Yod's flesh was edible, there would be enough to feed scavengers for years.
Then he noticed isolated fragments dissolving in the weak sunlight, vanishing into nothing as their connection to the central charm of the Homunculus was severed. There would be no scraps left for anyone once Yod was dead.
The shriek reached a new height. The wave swept on across the lake, carrying with it a tide of alien detritus. Skender strained to penetrate the mist and spray enveloping the mighty corpse. It had sunk lower in the water and appeared to be drifting, rocking slowly back and forth like some grotesque, unmoored island. Shards of carapace still stood upright, perhaps held there by lingering muscular reflexes.
The last of the disturbed rock rattled down the side of the crater. A raw new scar marred the ancient crater wall, testimony to the defiant forces Yod had woken as it attempted to invade the world. Skender began to feel a sense of relief even as those closer to the Tomb absorbed what had happened. Heuve had his sword in the air, waving it in triumph. Orma was jumping up and down, cheering. Sal clapped one hand on Skender's back.
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