The soldiers shouted and threw down their weapons, a look of panic suddenly filling their eyes. They drew swords and backed slowly toward their captive in the stocks.
“I have no wish to slay you,” Tiberius said, defying the voices in his head that were screaming for blood. “Throw down your weapons and I shall let you live.”
“We’ve got our orders,” one of the soldiers said.
“Fine,” Tiberius said, raising his hands and reveling in the magic that he could feel swirling around him and through him. The Balestone made his magical senses so much more acute, and he could feel the magic in every living thing.
“Fulguralis,” he shouted.
The last time Tiberius had used the lightning spell, it had nearly broken free of his control, but this time the magic connected to him in a completely different way. He felt the portal opening, felt the power of the lightning surging into the Balestone and through Tiberius’ body. Then, from this open palms, bright white bolts of lightning shot out and hit the two soldiers squarely in the chest. Tiberius felt the hair on his arms rise up from the static electricity, even after he clamped down on the spell.
The two soldiers were knocked backwards by the lightning, which left their tunics fused to their skin around a blackened hole that was smoking. Tiberius could smell the burnt flesh and knew that the two soldiers were dead. A part of him was gleeful at the use of raw, magical power, but another part, the true part of Tiberius, was revolted that he had used his magic to kill men so easily.
“Magic exists to benefit all mankind,” he said slowly.
The Balestone mocked him, and the voices in his head berated him for such thinking. He was a wizard, after all, they argued. Wasn’t he suppose to use his power? The soldiers were mortals, nothing more than dumb animals. Killing them meant nothing. But Tiberius fought to keep the voices at bay. He was a mortal, too, and killing was always a last resort.
He hurried over to his father and lifted the simple latch that held the stocks in place. The top beam was heavy, but Tiberius lifted it free and tossed it aside. Earl Ageus crumpled to the ground.
“Are you hurt?” Tiberius asked, kneeling beside his father.
“Not injured, just very sore.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” the earl said. “Brutas came out and told my troops to lay down their arms, and they just obeyed him. There was no fight, no resistance. I thought you were dead.”
“Not dead, but close enough,” Tiberius said. “Come on, we need to get you back into the palace and we need to find Rafe.”
“Rafe is easy enough to find,” the earl said.
He pointed up toward the highest rampart of the palace. Tiberius looked up and felt a boiling hot rage erupt inside him. He could see Rafe hanging from the wall, his friend’s body stretched out by the weight of the block of stone that hung from his wrists.
“Come on,” Tiberius said. “I’ve got to help him.”
“The guards said he struck you down,” Ageus said. “I thought he was your friend.”
“He was under Brutas’ spell, the same as your men.”
“So Brutas is a wizard, too?”
“No,” Tiberius said. “But he had the Balestone, and it was working for him.”
“The Balestone?” Ageus asked.
“I’ll explain everything soon,” Tiberius said. “But I want to get you inside first.”
“But what about Brutas?”
“You don’t have to worry about Brutas,” Tiberius said grimly. “He won’t hurt us ever again.”
Chapter 32
Lexi
Wearing a dress wasn't completely foreign to Lexi. The wig, on the other hand, felt ridiculous and itched. She had to force herself not to scratch her head constantly. Olyva kept glancing over at Lexi, which only made her feel even more self-conscious.
“You look beautiful,” Olyva said as they neared the palace. “Don’t be nervous.”
“That’s easy for you to say. I feel like an idiot, and if I didn't know better, I’d think I had a bale of hay on my head.”
“It looks good, and that’s all that matters now. We need to get inside and help.”
They were passing through the large gate that led to the palace’s main entrance. Lexi felt nervous. Going through the front door wasn’t her favorite tactic, but she was trusting Olyva this time, and just in case, she kept her Wangorian dagger close at hand.
They were halfway across the palace’s outer courtyard when they saw Earl Ageus. He was locked in a wooden stock, his head and hands bound between the heavy pieces of wood. Lexi nudged her friend but didn’t say anything. There were other city officials coming and going from the palace, but none were speaking. Most just stared at the ground and hurried about their tasks.
There were soldiers guarding the main entrance, and Lexi felt her heart pounding as they approached the heavily armed men, but the soldiers didn't give them a second glance. Just inside the palace’s main entrance was a reception hall. Sculptures were placed around the large room on marble pillars. Tapestries and huge works of art adorned the walls. Normally the reception hall was a busy place where city officials, wealthy merchants, and even visiting dignitaries held unofficial meetings or talked about the latest gossip. But the hall was empty, and Olyva led them quickly through it.
Beyond the reception hall was the Great Hall, where the earl held public feasts and the city’s most important citizens were allowed to hold events such as weddings. Two corridors led off of either side of the reception hall. One was lined with small rooms that were used by the city’s officials to conduct their business. The opposite corridor led to the suites used by some of Avondale’s ministers. Grentz had been housed in one of the smaller apartments at the far end of the hall.
“This way,” Olyva said, taking them down the second corridor. “We need to get up to the roof.”
“You think we’ll just be able to stroll up there?” Lexi said.
“No, but we need to see what we’re dealing with.”
Lexi knew Olyva was right, but she didn't expect their task to be easy. If they could have waited until nightfall, they would have had a better chance of success. She doubted that there would be many guards posted at night, and they might even be able to sneak around the guards rather than fighting them.
At the end of the hallway was a narrow stairway that led up to the second floor. The Great Hall took up the center of the second story of the palace. There were large, open windows from the hallway that circled the Great Hall so that, for important events, spectators could watch from above. The second floor was also used to house visiting nobles. The largest suite of rooms was reserved for the king if he should ever visit, but all the the rooms were lavish, and Lexi knew that Olyva’s mother and sisters were staying somewhere on that floor.
A wider stairway led up to the vestibule outside the earl’s residence. And from there, a grand staircase curved up to the palace roof. Normally at least two of the earl’s guard stood watch at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the third floor, but the soldiers were missing.
“There have to be guards on the next floor,” Lexi argued. “It can't be this easy.”
“If there are, what should we do?” Olyva asked.
“We have to know what we're facing,” Lexi said. “Then we can decide what to do.”
"I hate the thought of waiting," Olyva said. "Rafe is just hanging up there."
"You need to prepare yourself for the fact that he might be dead," Lexi said coldly.
She saw the look of fear and shock on Olyva's face and hated herself for being so callous, but she knew that even if they could get to Rafe, there was no guarantee that he would still be alive. What was worse—she knew that if Rafe had been captured, then there was a good chance that Tiberius had been killed. She couldn't fathom that, even though she knew it had to be true.
"So we aren't even going to try?" Olyva asked angrily.
"No," Lexi said. "We are going up, but even if
we can save Rafe, we need start thinking of how we're going to get out of here. Once Rafe's body is gone from the walls, it won't be long before the earl's men come looking for us."
"It might be better to find Tiberius first," Olyva said, looking down at the floor.
"I wish we could, but we have no idea where he is," Lexi said. "I think our best bet is to find Rafe and hope that he can tell us where Tiberius might be."
"And if he can't?" Olyva asked.
"Then we have to get Rafe out of the palace and find someplace safe for the two of you to hide. I'll come back for Tiberius by myself, after nightfall."
"You sound so brave," Olyva said. "I couldn't imagine doing this by myself."
"It isn't bravery," Lexi said. "It's necessity. I'll do what I have to do, and so will you. Let's go.”
They moved quickly up the stairs, expecting to be accosted by furious guards at any moment. They were trespassing in the earl’s private quarters after all, but the small vestibule on the third floor of the palace was empty. The sweeping staircase abandoned.
“It can’t be this easy,” Lexi said.
“Maybe they didn’t think Rafe needed a guard,” Olyva said. “If Tiberius and Rafe were captured and the earl was thrown into stocks, his army surrendered, what other threats are there to worry about?”
“Us,” Lexi said as she tried to see up the grand staircase.
“Maybe they don’t even know about us,” Olyva said.
“We can’t count on that,” Lexi said. “We have to be prepared for the worst case scenario.”
“And what would that be?” Olyva said.
“A troop of guards waiting on the roof,” Lexi said. “Once we go up, they could send men up the stairs, which would block our only route of escape.”
“Couldn’t you crawl down the side of the palace?” Olvya asked.
“Probably, but I wouldn’t risk that with you. And I’m sure Rafe isn’t up to it.”
“Well,” Olyva said. “We don’t really have a choice. We’re here, and Rafe needs our help.”
“I know it,” Lexi said. “But I still don’t like it.”
She pulled out her Wangorian dagger. The weapon was small, the razor-sharp blade curved slightly. It was heavy for a small weapon, but the weight felt good in Lexi’s hand. It felt strong, not delicate like the daggers made in Avondale.
“I wish you had a spear,” Lexi said.
“Me too,” Olyva agreed.
They moved up the grand staircase slowly. Lexi was listening hard, but there was no sound of trouble. The door that led onto the roof was open, and outside Lexi could see the brilliant blue sky. It was hard to imagine her life going so wrong on such a beautiful day. She had to force herself not to think about Tiberius. He was somewhere in the palace, probably badly wounded or beaten, perhaps even dead.
Finally they caught sight of the guards. There were two of them; both men were sitting on the palace roof playing a game of dice. They obviously had no fear of being taken by surprise, and Lexi hoped that would be enough of an edge that she and Olyva could overtake them.
“They aren’t holding their weapons,” Olyva whispered.
“There might be more that we can’t see,” Lexi said. “We better move quickly. I’ll take the one on the right, you go for their weapons.”
“Thank you,” Olyva said.
“For what?”
“For everything, but mostly for risking your life for Rafe.”
“He would do it for me,” Lexi said. “Besides, sticking together is our only chance of surviving now. Let’s go.”
Lexi edged to the doorway, peering around to see if she could see any other troops, but the rooftop was mostly deserted. She nodded to Olyva and then sprinted forward. The run from the doorway to the two soldiers only took three seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. Her back prickled with fear, and she felt as if a spear or sword would stab into her from behind at any second.
When she reached the soldier, she jumped forward, swinging the dagger toward the side of his neck. The blade punched through the soft flesh, and he staggered forward, holding the wound and gagging on his own blood. The soldiers were from the king’s army, men trained for war, and yet the second soldier just stood frozen in fear, watching his companion die. Lexi didn’t wait for the man to come to senses; instead, she lunged forward, thrusting her dagger toward the man’s stomach.
At the last instant, the soldier finally reacted, trying to leap backward away from Lexi’s attack. But he wasn’t fast enough, and the curved blade punched into his stomach. It wasn’t a killing blow; his retreat had given him enough space from Lexi that the blade only gouged into his abdomen a few centimeters, but behind him, Olvya had snatched up the man’s spear, which was propped against one of the stone pillars the sky ships were moored to. She turned the weapon toward the man, who backpedaled directly onto the spear’s blade.
His back arched, and he screamed in pain. Olyva shoved the weapon forward, and it punched through his body; the spear tip was red with gore as it stuck out of his stomach. He slumped to the ground, and Olyva let him fall. Lexi was turning around the roof, expecting more enemies to converge on them, but everything was quiet. The roof was empty.
“I don’t see anyone,” Olyva said.
“Me either,” Lexi agreed. “But someone must have heard that soldier scream. It won’t be long until reinforcements show up.”
“Let’s get Rafe.”
They hurried to where the ropes holding Rafe to the roof of the palace were pulled taut. They leaned over the parapet and saw Rafe hanging several feet below them. They tried to pull him up, but with the block of stone hanging from his hands, he was too heavy.
“What are we going to do?” Olyva asked.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Lexi said. “I’ll climb down and cut the block of stone loose.”
“That’s insane,” Olyva said. “You could fall.”
“I can handle it,” Lexi said, already throwing one leg over the edge of the wall. “Wait until I get back up to start pulling him up.”
Lexi didn’t wait for Olyva to argue or come up with another plan. She wiped the curved blade of her dagger on the skirt of her dress, then put the back of the blade into her mouth. After kicking off her boots, she started her descent, keeping one hand on the rope that held Rafe to the rooftop and letting her other hand and feet find the crevices between the stones. The masonry of the palace was expertly done, but years of rain and snow had pitted the stone slightly, leaving just enough room for Lexi’s thin fingers and toes to find purchase.
She released the rope once she got to Rafe’s boots. She didn’t want to pull on his body or add any weight to him if she didn’t have to. The further down she climbed, the more nervous she became. She didn’t fear falling, but she wasn’t sure what she would do if Rafe was dead. She knew she would somehow have to get Olyva out of the city and help her friend go on without Rafe. She refused to think about Tiberius. She knew the chances of finding him alive were dropping lower and lower with every passing moment. The only way they could have defeated Tiberius was to injure or kill him. If he was conscious, he could work magic, even bound hand and foot.
She shook the thought of Tiberius from her mind and concentrated instead on her climb. She knew that if she lost focus, she could die. One slip would mean death, and not just for her. If Lexi fell, there would be no hope for Rafe or Olyva, either.
“Fancy … meeting you … here,” Rafe said in a weak voice.
Lexi turned, feeling relieved and revolted at the same time. Rafe’s face was dark red and extremely puffy. There was dried blood from cuts and dark circles from bruising.
“You’re alive,” Lexi said. “We weren’t sure.”
“Wish I … was dead,” Rafe said.
“What? Why?” Lexi asked as she began to saw on the rope holding the stone to Rafe’s wrists with her dagger.
He grunted in pain as the vibrations traveled up his arms and into his body. He was having tro
uble breathing, and Lexi knew they needed to get him on the rooftop as soon as possible.
“Tiberius,” Rafe said.
“We’ll find him,” Lexi assured Rafe, but the promise felt hollow.
“I think … I may have … killed him,” Rafe managed to say.
Lexi’s blood ran cold, and she felt a wave of nausea roll through her stomach. She could taste bile at the back of her throat, and her hands felt numb, but she focused all her attention on the rope.
“Don’t talk,” Lexi said. “I’ve almost got this rope cut—then we can pull you up.”
He didn’t talk, but she saw tears leaking from his swollen eyes. Her own chest felt tight, and it was hard to breathe, but she kept working. She knew she couldn’t stop now. Even though she had no idea what Rafe was talking about, she felt a sudden anger toward him, but she also knew that even if Tiberius was dead, he would want her to save Rafe.
“The rope’s almost cut through,” Lexi said. “When the block falls, it will relieve the pressure, but it might hurt. As soon as I get back up the wall, we’ll pull you up. Just hang in there.”
“Hanging … is all I can … do,” he said, trying to grin, but hanging upside down, the grin looked like a frown to Lexi.
She sawed on the last few fibers of the rope, and then the stone block dropped. Lexi didn’t bother looking down. She could hear the block scraping against the side of the palace before finally landing with a crash onto the paved street below. It was a miracle if someone wasn’t hurt by the shards of rock that must have gone flying in every direction, but she couldn’t worry about that.
She scaled the wall quickly, ignoring Rafe’s groans of pain. As soon as she pulled herself over the parapet, Olyva started pulling on the rope.
“He’s alive,” Lexi said. “And conscious.”
She helped heave Rafe’s limp body up to the edge of the roof. Olyva was almost frantic, but Lexi was patient. She leaned over and grabbed a handful of Rafe’s wool trousers. They pulled hard and got him up onto the edge of the roof, where they rolled him over the stone railing. They were all on the smooth stone tiles that made up the roof of the earl’s palace, Lexi and Olyva trying to catch their breath, Rafe moaning in pain, when a group of six guards appeared.
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