Twig

by wildbow

  Still, the gunfire stopped as the roomful of people started to move to get clear of the smoke. Not all did. Some drew weapons, following scattered students who backed into the smoke rather than gravitate closer to nobles.

  Jessie and I launched ourselves into the smoke at the same time, the moment it was close enough to us that we could slip in without necessarily being seen.

  Jessie tugged on my arm. I was to her left, closer to the larger expanse of the room but she tugged me to the right. I went with the movement, and felt her give me more of a push to the right.

  She was taking point here. I was, going by my trajectory, heading for the source of the smoke.

  The table with the assorted chemicals and pieces of now-noisily chugging machinery was in front of me. I was slapped with the length of something as I drew near to it. A belt, torn or loosened by a stray bullet.

  What had Jessie wanted me to do here?

  I heard the whimper and realized what Jessie had in mind.

  The girl who’d dropped the tray was one of ours. Jessie had signaled her with a flash of light from the reflected mirror, then used a hand sign to give the order. She was supposed to have been one of the windows we’d had, who would’ve also bought time for others to arrive and set up the necessary props.

  Blind, I bent low, fumbling for her. I touched her face, then, dropping my hand deliberately to her shoulder next, so I wouldn’t grope her chest in a fumbling attempt to find her arm or hand, I put my hand over hers, where she was gripping her upper arm. I felt the warmth of blood.

  “I got you,” I said. “How bad?”

  “Grazed,” she said. “It all went wrong.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. It really wasn’t.

  She put her head against my shoulder, shaking it hard.

  “You did good,” I said. She really had.

  I pulled her to her feet and led her through the smoke, very aware we only had a minute before the smoke started to clear. We’d opted to push the very boundaries of what we could get away with, in terms of how long we could keep a roomful of people under a cover of smoke and not have them get frustrated.

  I headed for the railing that bounded the room, where ornate rails kept students from stumbling headlong into the glass walls and windows that framed the ‘shoulder’ of the reclining lady and allowed sunlight into the main hall. I kept one arm around the girl as I counted the posts.

  The fourth post had the hook. I grabbed it, pulling it free, and braced myself against the natural pull of it. It was all I could do to keep my feet on the ground.

  Figures appeared out of the smoke. I drew my knife, ready.

  Students. Ours. Three, unless I was missing something with the smoke obscuring the details.

  Another figure loomed, and it was something entirely different. It was large enough that even with the diffuse light that illuminated the clouds of smoke, it still managed to form a pillar of shadow. Ten feet tall.

  If I’d been Jessie, I could have recalled everything that had been in the hall earlier, and I could have accounted for that. I wasn’t. I drew my knife, ready.

  It moved in a lopsided kind of way. It seemed to sense me before it saw me, and reacted, raising its arms. If it didn’t have weapons, it had something like weapons as part of its design.

  I backed up as it swiped through smoke, and I could smell the thing over the cloying burned grease smell of the cloud that now filled three quarters of the great hall. It smelled of perfume. As large and menacing as it was, it smelled nice, inviting.

  On my second retreat, I bumped into the students that had clustered behind me. It meant I didn’t move far enough back. The swipe caught me across the face.

  As the girl had said, a graze, but enough to alarm.

  I hauled back on the rope and hook, and I felt the catch, the moment the mechanism had reached its limit, the switch flipped. It began reeling me in, hard.

  I went straight after the thing in the shadows, knees at my chest, ready to kick down and out at the arms if they swiped again, hoping at least to keep the damage localized to my feet and away from my vitals.

  The hook was about as large as my head, and as I drew close to the thing, I got a glimpse of what I’d just thrown myself into combat with.

  An attractive, feminine creature, its hair long and pale, its eyes without detail, with makeup heavy around the eyes. The clawed, armored part of it was almost another creature it was plugged into, like Lillian’s meatsuit.

  She was limping, already injured from a brief encounter with Jessie in the smoke, I realized. I pushed the realization aside, my focus needed elsewhere—I almost smashed my face into hers in my rope-aided ascent. From the glimpse of the many fangs I saw between her slightly parted lips, I was glad I hadn’t.

  I used my body to crush the hook in closer to the thing’s body, guiding the hook at what I’d hoped would be her heart. I caught the collarbone instead, impaling her, and bodily lifting the creature up with me.

  It was a floating, loose movement, buoyed by the pull of the rope. Vague and dreamlike as that moment was, a slow-motion movement through air, my passenger something beautiful and dangerous looking, it was a stark contrast to the grate of the metal hook on bone, the crack, crunch, and the summary break in that collarbone, marked a spray of blood. She made a terrible sound, as if to further the stark contrast, and her mouth yawned open, a bear-trap mouth of fangs exposed, ready to tear my face open.

  The hook slipped free, up, and, with the help of a frantic slap of my hand to better position it, my hands letting go of the hook to seize her shoulders instead, it buried deep in the underside of the creature’s chin. She toppled back, crashing to the ground, and pulled me and the hook down with it.

  It had lodged in around the jaw, and for now it was staying put, weighed down by a creature who was several feet taller and far more dense than I. The slam of the hook into her jaw and the clack of her mouth closing as forcefully as it had had knocked her out, if the point of the hook through the roof of her mouth hadn’t outright killed her.

  “Come,” I whispered. “Come on.”

  There were more people rushing toward us. Some yelped as they realized the monster was there.

  “Come on,” I said. I reached for hands, guiding them in place. “Hold tight. Make sure you have grips.”

  I was still arranging them, keeping an eye out for more trouble, very aware the smoke was clearing, and we were losing ground. Another minute or two—

  I heard gunshots. The sound was different from before. It still sounded far too loud in the enclosed space, as large as it was, but guns had a different sound when they weren’t fired at me. There were other targets. We had support.

  Jessie arrived, dragging a body. She had more students with her, and they were helping with the drag. She had the hook but was being careful not to tug it too hard.

  Professor Edmund Foss.

  “One student here,” Jessie said.

  “You guys are going to have to help,” I said. “Kick, grab for handholds, but keep us moving.”

  I could see, as the smoke thinned, the sheer number of forces that were massing at the edge of the smoke. Nobles, experiments.

  I directed one student to Jessie. She made sure the boy had a grip on the rope there, set the hook in place around Foss’ belt, then gave it a firm haul back.

  The rope reeled in, tugging Jessie up. Her feet and the feet of students with her touched the branches that framed windows, seeking more traction.

  I had already set the knife in place. I kicked down, driving the knife into one side of the beautiful creature’s jaw. It drove deep, cut something, but didn’t sever everything. I kicked down again, aware of the shadows closing in, driving the heel of my foot between top and bottom row of teeth, exacerbating the damage done by the knife, kicked again—

  The hook continued its pull against the jaw, and the end of the jaw came loose. The hook tore through flesh, the jaw pulling free and away, before the hook slipped past the damaged en
d. We rose into the air, no longer weighed down by the giant creature.

  We rose faster than Jessie, who had one less student but one more full grown man pulling down on the rope. Her hostage wasn’t helping either, not kicking at the wall or reaching out for branches to pull at.

  My crew of four students and I reached the top before Jessie’s three students and one passenger did. I clambered off, fumbling for the beam, and proceeded to help students let go of the rope and seize other parts of the beam structure above and over the dining hall.

  It was havoc down there. The smoke was clearing but wasn’t entirely gone, and it was immediately clear that Jessie had bid other students to activate their lettered experiments. We’d had an entire play of surprise deaths, from A to Z, and many of them had been intended to cause comedic havoc. Now they were weapons. Pests among the enemy, a stitched that was arcing with voltaic power that was supposed to be limited to the nearby railing, but was instead flashing across the silverware and candlesticks on the tables nearest it. There were others.

  Our students were backing off. Many, including Bea, had fled for one of the bridges. They were shutting the gate, and the people below us were just now realizing it. In places below, students and rebels were slipping away, setting up roadblocks and other obstacles. It would buy them time to reach secure points, to run to the lowest-floor doors of dormitories and the admin building.

  For all that this had gone bell-end, the casualties didn’t look too terribly bad. Some had been shot, others were stuck, having made the mistake in judgment of sticking closer to the Nobles, Professors, and aristocrat guests.

  This wasn’t what we’d been shooting for. Our time to attack had been when the festivities here were over and people started retiring for the evening.

  With people going to separate places to retire for the night, quarters of differing quality for different guests, we’d hoped to split them up and deal with them on a case-by-case basis.

  I hauled on the rope, helping Jessie. I hoped those below wouldn’t look up—people below were looking up.

  But, at the very least, they were preoccupied. They were aristocrats, and they had Nobles to serve, or they were Professors, and they’d brought weapons to show off, and now they were loosing the weapons on the attacking rebels.

  People hiding in the rafters would have been the sort of suspicious activity that would’ve been more easily explained as something the magicians with their show had up their sleeve, had we been able to do this like we wanted.

  Ibbot was still down there, somewhere.

  “I’m good,” Jessie said, as I grabbed her armpit and helped her get to a position to climb up onto the broader ledge. “Go rain hell on ’em.”

  I nodded. I turned away, ducking low so I wouldn’t bump my head on a part of the ceiling or stick it through a pane of glass, and hurried to where we’d stowed other countermeasures.

  I was glad we had very little that was outright lethal. I tipped over buckets, letting them fall. I had four on their way to the ground before the first struck the floor.

  They were very much like the smoke from the machine, but they were a little more noxious.

  As the gas spread, people jumping onto tables to buy themselves seconds more before the gas smothered them, a handful drew pistols and fired blind. One or two fired with targets in mind.

  The bullets that didn’t hit wood hit the glass that encased the dining hall. Glass broke, and it rained down in large shards and fragments. It broke explosively on contact with the floor, furniture, and guests below us.

  “Stop!” someone called out. They spoke with a noble’s voice. “No shooting until we can see!”

  “To the stairs!”

  I wasn’t positive if it was one of our own or not. I remembered something planned in that vein, but I was lost on the particulars.

  We made our way through the same hole that ‘F’ had fallen through. A ‘student’ in our act had been designated to showcase the perils of breeding flying creatures, and had come in through one treated pane of glass, smacking hard into the floor, a dramatic faceplant. Now we climbed through, working in threes and fours to move the unconscious body of Edmund Foss.

  From the outside, I could see the various weapons and the massed armies of the Academy and Crown. There were groups on the ground, and in the chaos, the students of ours that were fleeing were able to direct them indoors. They would carry on like that until they met the first of the aristocrats or whoever was able to slip past the barricades, the stitched we’d turned to our side, and the experiments we’d put in place to scare and impede. Then they would be informed that the fleeing students weren’t friendlies.

  I could see the gossamer thing, and it was drawing close. Whatever controlled it, it hadn’t received the order to attack. Which was good, because it was not the sort of thing I wanted to be on the bad side of.

  We moved carefully across branches and struts of the head of the Lady of Hackthorn. There were more ropes and hooks waiting on the outside edge of the building.

  “We’d planned to do this with just Sylvester and I,” Jessie said. “The extra weight won’t be a problem, but that’s not really the concern.”

  “What’s the concern?” the girl with the injured shoulder asked.

  Jessie put the hook through Edmund Foss’ belt, once more. “Grab on. Twice as tight as you did in the dining hall.”

  “Don’t look down,” I said.

  I saw eyes widen. Jessie elbowed me.

  “Really don’t,” I said. “But grab on, because if you stay, it’s going to be even scarier, I guarantee you.”

  “And don’t grab where it’s knotted up there,” Jessie said.

  They grabbed on. Jessie and I freed the hooks from where we’d attached them to the exterior wall.

  I drew in a deep breath and then stepped off the edge, pulling the others with me.

  The rope was attached to the wall at set intervals. The attachment wasn’t secure in the slightest. With our weight pulling it down, it came free in jerks and starts, each one making my heart leap out of my chest, and I was a friend of high places, my natural and sensible dislike of birds aside.

  I felt sorry for our passengers.

  The rope kept coming undone, and, for two long, heart-pounding seconds, there was slack in it. We were in freefall.

  There were no more attachments to the exterior of the main building—only to the bridge that connected it to the admin building.

  We swung from there, with a solid seventy-five paces of open space between us and any wall, our feet dangling above people who were so far away they were specks. A ring with a rope attached to it slipped down from high above, looped around our rope, and it stopped at a knot just above my hands. Had I been holding onto that knot, it would have struck my hands with enough force to break fingers.

  The enemy was attacking the gate now, setting something strong and powerful at the door. I could hear the crunches, the bangs, and the chops that were like axes on wood. I could hear glass break, and knew that there were things that weren’t human that would be crawling out through the broken windows and onto the exterior, out toward the bridge, giving chase.

  The swinging ceased. The students at the window were hauling on the other rope the ring was fixed to—pulling us in. Others provided gradual slack to our other rope. In the process, we were eased in closer to the admin building.

  “Just in time,” Davis said, meeting us at a waiting window. “They’re coming over the bridge now. There’s a lot more of them than we anticipated.”

  “More is good,” I said.

  Davis nodded.

  We climbed in through the window. One of the fellows with us had not enjoyed his ride. Any gardens way down below had received fertilizer and watering. He shuffled off.

  “You’ve put up with a lot, being with us,” I told Davis.

  “I really, really have,” he said.

  “Would you do the honors?” I asked.

  “Honors,” he said. “Peop
le are going to die.”

  But he reached for a leather cord at his neck, and he raised a whistle to his lips.

  It wasn’t silent. It didn’t matter who heard.

  The bridge detonated, a rolling explosion that caught first at one end, then the middle, and finally at the end closest to the main building. Wood, stone, the garden baskets that had lined either side, bits of metal and a portion of the enemy’s front-line capable troops tumbled through the open air. I hoped there were some young nobles among them.

  We’d wanted them divided into clear categories and groups before we dealt with them. We’d wanted to be absolutely sure that most of our own were in the clear.

  This would be… messier than we’d hoped.

  “What was his name?” I asked.

  “Bobby,” Jessie said, without needing to ask.

  “Bobby Worrel, then?”

  “Yeah,” Jessie said. “I’m surprised you remembered the last name.”

  “I’m going to forget it promptly, and he deserves a better last name, too, but I held it in my head to be sure I didn’t forget that. We’ll deal with his dad.”

  “Yeah,” one of the students with us said.

  Bits of burning stone and wood were still falling. I could see up and through the window to the dining hall, where trails of smoke were still filtering out to the open air. A creature had reached the edge and managed to cling to it, but was too badly burned to do anything further. I watched as it surrendered to its fate and fell.

  I looked down at the unconscious Professor Foss. I briefly met the Infante’s eyes.

  This is our Academy, and it’s time you all learned that, I thought. And that’s only the beginning.

  Previous Next

  Root and Branch—19.7

  “Your timing is off,” Ashton said. “Jessie, your timing is supposed to be good.”

  “Not our fault,” I said. “A guest recognized one of our actors. Ferres thought she saw an opportunity.”