by Ben Cassidy
Joseph ducked back from the edge of the stairs. “Hurry,” he hissed at Maklavir. “Find something, anything—”
Maklavir pushed Kara down to a sitting position on the floor.
The girl didn’t resist. She seemed abnormally calm.
Maklavir flipped back his cape. “Give me two minutes.”
Joseph leaned forward, the carbine set to his shoulder and ready to fire.
Three gendarmes were coming up the stairs. They spotted Joseph. They ducked back and raised their own guns.
Joseph deliberately aimed at the empty space between them, then pulled the trigger on the carbine.
The gun sparked, flashed and roared in his hands. It gave a satisfying kick back into his shoulder, and thundered out a black cloud of smoke that obscured his view.
Joseph ducked back without seeing the result of his shot. He hoped that his aim had been good enough to miss.
A ripple of gunshots flickered out from the stairs below.
Down the hall, someone screamed. A door banged shut.
Bullets tore into the banister, shattered a hole in the nearby window, and tore a piece off the top step.
Joseph scurried back, reaching for another cartridge. He coughed.
Maklavir was kneeling calmly beside the door that led the outside patio. He was fiddling with the lock.
“What in Zanthora are you doing?” Joseph yelled. He hit the floor behind a small table. His fingers fumbled clumsily with the bullet cartridge.
“Finesse over brutality, old chap.” Maklavir’s voice was surprisingly calm. “I’m going to blow the door off.”
Joseph peered through the black smoke that covered the head of the stairs, but could see no emerging shapes of gendarmes. “You brought explosives with you?”
“I’ve made it a habit ever since before the Despair.” Maklavir moved his fingers to the hinge of the door. “Got caught in a library once without a lick of gunpowder and almost got killed. Can’t say I don’t learn from my own mistakes.”
“Maklavir! Joseph!” The voice was Potemkin’s, coming from out of sight down the stairs. “You’re being fools. There’s no way out of there.”
“That’s what he thinks,” Maklavir mumbled.
Joseph fumbled with the cartridge, biting the wax seal off the top. He had reloaded a firearm perhaps a grand total of a half dozen times his whole life.
“Come down with your hands up!” Potemkin ordered. “Now, gentlemen.”
Joseph was relieved that the gendarmes weren’t charging their position. At least not yet. He glanced back behind him. “Iola?”
“Fainted dead away.” Maklavir moved a piece of matchcord between two charges, then stuffed something up in the top corner of the door. “I doubt she would have come with us, anyways. I wasn’t paying her that much.”
Joseph fumbled his way through reloading the carbine. Gunpowder spilled onto the carpet from his clumsy attempt. He almost dropped the lead ball.
This was madness. Even if they could get the door to the patio open, where would they go after that? Kara would be no different, certainly. Breaking her out of the Sanitarium wouldn’t suddenly cure her.
But it would be better than letting her rot in some military prison.
Joseph unhooked the metal ramrod attached underneath the carbine’s barrel, then used it to ram the paper wadding home.
“You have five seconds, gentlemen.” Potemkin did not sound amused in the slightest.
Joseph looked behind him as he clicked the hammer on the carbine back. “Maklavir—”
“I got it,” the diplomat said. He ducked back from the door, trailing a thin line of matchcord behind him. “I just need a light.”
Joseph stared at him blankly for a moment. He wasn’t carrying any tinder or flint, didn’t have—
Iola’s candle.
Maklavir seemed to have the same thought at the same moment. His eyes flashed towards the soft golden glow emanating from Kara’s room.
“Go,” Joseph hissed. “I’ll—“
“Time’s up,” Potemkin shouted from below.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Maklavir dashed into the bedroom.
Joseph stood and lowered his carbine at the stairs. His heart was racing. Not with fear, but with adrenaline. He felt strangely calm. For the last few months he had been drifting in the wind, fighting a war that wasn’t his own, avoiding the pain that cut at his heart.
But now…now he knew what he was doing. He was getting Kara out of this place. Even if it cost him his life.
Maklavir came back out into the hall, candle in hand. Soft orange light lit the corridor and reflected off the strands of gun smoke that floated gently though the air.
Joseph aimed down the barrel of the carbine. He didn’t want to kill any of these gendarmes, but he would if he had to.
The first man appeared over the lip of the steps, carbine in hand.
Joseph fired.
The blast sent out a huge cloud of smoke and fire that blocked Joseph’s vision. He dropped the weapon and dodged back. One hand reached for the gendarme’s sword that he had tucked into his belt.
An answering shot sang out from the smoke cloud.
Part of the wall by Joseph’s head splintered and fractured as the bullet raked across its length, drilling into the door frame of Kara’s room.
One of the gendarmes shouted.
Maklavir ducked down behind the potted plants and covered Kara with his body.
Another shot echoed out.
The bullet punched into the table that Joseph was behind. Flakes of polished wood erupted into the air.
Down the hall, one of the residents screamed. Another began to laugh maniacally.
Joseph thought he could hear Grelda’s thin, stern voice shouting somewhere downstairs.
Another heavy tromp of boots came from the stairs.
Joseph lifted his sword. He got ready to move forward.
The thick door to the patio exploded.
The sound of the blast made the gunfire that had preceded it sound like tiny poppers. It was as if a dozen cannons had gone off all at the same time. Pieces of the door rattled off the opposite wall. Smoke and dust billowed down the hallway in both directions. Screams and babblings sounded from up and down the corridor.
Joseph staggered forward, thrown off balance by the thunderclap. His ears rang, and he choked on the swirl of dust and smoke.
Panicked shouts came from the stairs. The gendarmes had been taken off-guard, but not for long.
A hand clapped on Joseph’s shoulder.
Surprised, he turned around, blinking in the swirling eddies of smoke.
It was Maklavir. He had Kara by the hand. He pulled Joseph back. “Come on, Joseph!”
Joseph didn’t wait for a second urging. He followed Maklavir back towards the gaping hole where the patio door had been.
The outside air was cold, but refreshing clear after the gun smoke and dust of the hallway. A light frozen rain was falling.
Joseph coughed roughly. The sword was still clutched in his hand. He dashed out onto the patio, blinking tears away from his eyes. He looked right and left for the stairs.
There weren’t any.
Maklavir skidded to a stop by the stone railing of the patio. He peered over the edge at the lawn below. “A bit far to jump, I’d say.”
Joseph bit back a nasty response. The gendarmes would be on them any moment. He ran to the railing and looked down.
The wall below fell down to the lawn. Unfortunately, Maklavir’s first reaction seemed accurate. It looked too far to jump, even with soft grass underfoot to catch their fall. They could potentially make it, but if one of them twisted or broke an ankle, they would be done for. Kara was already only half-present, and was muttering something to herself in her strange chant, her eyes looking at nothing.
A wailing scream came from back inside the Sanitarium.
Joseph snapped his head back.
Smoke and dust still poure
d out of the blasted door. Right now it was undoubtedly prolonging their lives, as it was blocking the gendarmes from seeing the method of their escape. But as soon as they saw the open doorway, Potemkin’s men would come rushing out onto the patio—
The patio from which there was no escape.
Joseph cursed. He pounded his free hand down against the top of the stone railing in frustration.
Something crinkled underneath his fist.
Joseph reached his hand down, and felt something hard and stringy on the top of the wet stone. It took him a moment to realize what it was.
Vines. The wall below him was covered with ivy, long thick strands that reached all the way to the ground.
A door slammed shut from inside the Sanitarium. The sharp clap of a gunshot echoed out into the cold night air. Probably one of the gendarmes firing at something in the smoke.
Maklavir turned, the second gendarme’s sword held in his hand. “Oh, well. Death and glory, I suppose?”
“No.” Joseph grabbed at the vines. “The vines. Take Kara and climb down them. I’ll cover you as long as I can.”
Maklavir looked over at his friend with a skeptically raised eyebrow. “You’re joking. Those vines won’t hold our weight. And how can I get Kara—”
Maklavir had glanced behind him, as thought to illustrate his point, but to both men’s surprise, Kara was already climbing over the top of the stone railing, her hands grasping the strands of ivy.
Joseph practically shoved Maklavir back towards the railing. “Go now. Don’t let anything happen to her.”
Maklavir nodded, muttered something under his breath, then tucked his sword away into his belt. He leapt for the wall.
Joseph turned back towards the blasted remains of the patio door.
A gendarme crashed outside, waving his carbine around as he tried to wave the smoke away from his eyes. His eyes widened as he saw Joseph. “Here!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Out—”
Joseph didn’t let the man finish.
He sprang forward like a tiger, sweeping his sword at the gendarme’s firearm. The blade was a heavy weapon, not like the elegant rapier he was used to using, and it robbed Joseph of much of the finesse he was accustomed to. Still, it was a sturdy design and had a sharp edge, and beggars couldn’t be too choosy.
The blade knocked the surprised gendarme’s weapon away.
There was a flash and sudden bang as the carbine fired.
The bullet shrieked off to the side, pinging off the stone railing of the patio.
The gendarme reached frantically for his sword.
Joseph gave him not room to recover. He stepped forward, resisting the urge to run the man through with his sword. He didn’t want to kill these men, not unless he absolutely had to. He flicked the blade away and smashed the heavy hilt of the weapon into the gendarme’s face.
The man flew backwards. He collided with another gendarme who was just emerging from the smoke.
With a snarl Joseph launched himself forward and gave the falling gendarme a kick for good measure.
Both of the gendarmes disappeared backwards into the swirling smoke of the hall.
Another shout sounded from inside.
Joseph didn’t know how long it took to climb down the wall. He could only hope that Kara and Maklavir had already made it. Either way, his time was up. More gendarmes were coming, and he had to run now if he was going to have a chance of making it out alive.
He turned to the railing, and tucked his sword into his belt. Another shout sounded behind him as he hurled himself over the edge, grabbing blindly at the vines.
A shot cracked out, and Joseph actually felt the wind of the musket ball as it zipped by his face.
Then he was over the side, and among a tangle of vines and creepers as he fought his way down.
To say Joseph climbed down the wall was far more generous than he deserved. It was really a controlled fall. Vines snapped and tore underneath his grip. He kept scrabbling with his boot for some kind of purchase, but the network of vines below him offered little in the way of a foothold.
Dirt and water smeared his face. Joseph felt the constant fear of falling as vine after vine tore out as he held on to them, and more than once he swung out from the wall, only to slam back painfully into the stone.
Halfway down the wall his final hold tore free and he fell.
Joseph fell into a heap at the base of the wall, panting and gasping. Leaves and creepers fell down onto his face and beard. He spat a filthy leaf out of his mouth, then staggered to his feet. His knuckles were bruised and bleeding, his knees and hips burned from where they had repeatedly struck the wall.
His ankles weren’t twisted, though, and that was something.
A hand snatched his arm and pulled Joseph to his feet.
It was Maklavir. He looked rather more undignified than usual. His face was smeared with mud. Pieces of ivy clung to his cape and shirt.
“Thanks,” Joseph grunted.
“You’re worse than Kendril when it comes to planning escapes,” Maklavir quipped. “You should have seen Kara. She clambered down like a monkey.”
Joseph looked up at the beautiful redhead.
She stood just a few feet away, a pleasant expression on her face. Her eyes still stared at something unseen, as if she was in another world. “Ladder of green,” she whispered.
Joseph felt the chill move over him before he even understood what it was, as if a phantom had suddenly appeared just behind him. He turned slowly, staring at the darkened wall behind him.
The ivy-covered wall. A ladder of green.
For a moment Joseph couldn’t speak and couldn’t move. He felt the cold touch of the supernatural on him, and it scared him out of all reason.
Then the bear-capped head of a gendarme appeared at the top of the wall, followed a moment later by the shape of a carbine barrel.
“Run!” Joseph shouted. He pushed Maklavir and Kara out onto the lawn. He hoped that despite her strange delirium, Kara could still run.
A shot snapped off behind them. Dirt and grass exploded next to Joseph’s foot.
Ahead was a low line of hedges. The branches were just starting to fill out again with leafy green at the coming of spring.
“There!” Joseph yelled. He pointed ahead towards the hedges, hoping that Maklavir could see. In truth, however, there were few other options to run to. The lawn was relatively open, and they needed cover. Fast.
They took off across the grass. The moon and stars were hidden behind the clouds, and the light was scarce. The chilly mixture of rain and snow slapped against their faces and began to soak their clothes. Behind them came more shouts and another gunshot. The flash of the shot lit up the lawn briefly like an errant stroke of lightning.
Joseph reached the hedge first. He blundered down one side of it, grabbing at the sharp branches and wet leaves with his hands. It was so dark he could barely see.
“What now?” Maklavir started as another gunshot sounded from the patio. “We’re trapped.”
“Search for an opening,” Joseph shouted. He felt the same frustration that Kendril seemed to perpetually feel towards the finely-dressed man. Put Maklavir in a drawing room with the Lord Protector of Arbela and he could talk his way into a title and an estate, but throw him into a life and death situation where every second counted and the man needed to be practically held by the hand.
“Search for an opening?” Maklavir gestured with his sword back towards the Sanitarium. “How do you know that there even is one? Shouldn’t we try to hack our way through?”
Joseph kept moving, groping blindly with his hands. There were so many things wrong with what Maklavir was suggesting that he didn’t have the time or patience to list them. Strangely enough, and for the first time, he found himself missing Kendril. Even at his worst moments the Ghostwalker always seemed decisive and active.
Kendril would find a way out of this.
He pushed the thought from his head. Kendril was gone. Joseph
had told him to go. He still couldn’t forgive him for what he had done to Kara.
And besides, Kendril wasn’t here. This was up to Joseph. He had to get them out of here alive.
Joseph ignored the pain of the stabbing branches. His teeth chattered from the cold. He found himself praying, desperately calling to Eru for help. He didn’t know what else to do. If he didn’t—
His hands flew into empty space.
Joseph stopped, and threw his arms forward. An opening in the hedge. Praise Eru. He snapped his head back to the side. “This way, quick!”
Maklavir didn’t hesitate. He snatched the spaced-out Kara by the arm and pulled her towards Joseph.
Joseph charged down the line of hedges, trying to see in the near-darkness. He wished he had a light, even a simple candle. Of course, any light he held would help the gendarmes track them. The darkness was both a curse and a blessing.
Joseph could just make out a wall of hedge up ahead, and what looked like a gravel path. He looked back, and managed to put his arms up just before Maklavir crashed into him.
“I say, watch where you’re going,” the diplomat said angrily.
Joseph felt the flash of irritation again, but forced it down. “Left,” he said. “We’ll follow the path.”
“Left? Why not to the right?” Maklavir nodded his head down the other direction.
Joseph resisted the urge to reach out and strangle the man. Arguing over directions? In the middle of running for their lives?
“We need to get back to the main drive,” Joseph said between his teeth. “We can get back to the city after that.” He snatched Kara by the hand and pulled her along. Her skin was ice-cold.
“If you say so,” Maklavir said sourly. He ran along behind them, his cape flapping wildly. “I still think—”
They passed into an open garden, a grassy lawn bordered on all sides by bare rose bushes and higher hedges on all sides.
Joseph paused, peering around him in the dark. Through the slushy rain he could make out some marble benches and what looked to be an iron gate off to the right.
“What now?” Maklavir said peevishly.
A call from behind them pushed Joseph out of his temporary daze. He shook his head. “The gate,” he said. “That should lead back to the main drive.”