Dawn of Deliverance

by Amy Hopkins

  “Six hundred?” Adeline gasped.

  Julianne nodded. “Give or take. We’re basing our estimates on inexperienced men’s thoughts and a couple of really stupid birds.”

  Remembering her last encounter with a ‘stupid bird’, Adeline groaned. “If it’s Percival, then it could be anywhere from fifty to five thousand,” she said.

  “Pretty much,” Julianne agreed. She stepped back to let Adeline climb the ladder first. “When you get up top, stay low,” she warned.

  Julianne went next, Polly, Bastian, and Danil following. They crowded onto the platform alongside Marcus and Bette.

  “Interesting choice of companions,” Marcus remarked.

  Marcus didn’t look at Polly, but Julianne knew that’s who he referred to. She could have slipped an explanation in his mind, but didn't, instead saying, “I only want the best.”

  Bette gave a satisfied snort and Polly’s mouth twitched into a tiny smile.

  “Alright, stop lollygaggin’,” Bette said. “I didn’t want anyone ta know of yer little jaunt across the field, so we’ve only got a wee bitta time before the next rotation comes along.”

  “Are we ready?” Julianne asked.

  Danil and Batian’s eyes cleared and Julianne whispered something under her breath. She felt the magic course through her and directed a tendril towards Bastian. Almost immediately, she accepted another from Danil, completing the circuit.

  Their shield was up and secure. Julianne said another word, her face serene as she cast a second spell.

  “We’re good. Stay close together and try to keep quiet. We can move fast, as long as we’re steady. Nothing sudden, please,” she said.

  “Och, lass! That’s bloody amazing, it is!” Bette stood back, twisting her head back and forth.

  Polly whispered to Danil, “What’s that about?”

  “I cast a spell to hide us,” Julianne explained. She realized the girl hadn’t often seen her using magic and would be less accustomed to her eyes glowing than Danil’s, who used his almost constantly. “We are, for all practical intents and purposes, invisible.”

  Polly lifted a hand up, looking at it with a frown.

  “Sorry,” Julianne said. “It won’t work on us. Anyone out there, though—” she pointed at the army, then the town. “—won’t see us, even if we’re right in front of them.”

  “Aye,” Bette confirmed. “Yer just, poof! Gone!”

  Julianne picked up a rope that was tied to the watchtower railing. She pulled it, hard, checking it was secure. “Let’s go.”

  She stood on the edge of the wall and leaned back, using the rope to hold her. Then, she jumped. Rappelling to the ground, she stood back to let the next person down.

  “Bette?” she called softly.

  The rearick stuck her head over the edge, looking about. “Ye there? I can’t see ye.”

  Julianne cupped a hand and a tiny, glowing butterfly rose up. It darted past Bette, who gasped in delight. “When we get back, I’ll send one of these. Don’t let anyone up if you don’t see it.”

  “Aye,” Bette said. “Good luck!”

  Moments later, the six set off, heading right for the enemy’s den.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  They crossed the field quickly, Adeline’s cloak flapping in the breeze.

  You’re Adeline’s guard, Julianne sent to Marcus. No matter what, get her back to Tahn safely.

  What about you? Marcus thought.

  I have Polly.

  Marcus didn’t reply, figuring he should count his blessing that she had even brought a second fighter with them.

  They approached the edge of the army with caution, slowing to a stop to gauge the situation.

  “They’ve got the real soldiers on watch,” Marcus said. “Those guys will be harder to mess with.”

  “Especially because about half have some kind of magical interference going on,” Julianne said. “Can we sneak past and enter from the back?”

  They crept around, sticking to the shadows and staying close enough to see the sprawling mess of people, but not so close that they would be easily noticed, even without Julianne’s spell hiding them.

  About halfway, Julianne jerked a hand up. Everyone froze. A man stumbled towards them, cursing at the uneven ground and lack of moonlight. “Bloody fools errand, this is,” he grumbled. “I’m not a fighter. I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “That’s a mental magician,” she whispered.

  She straightened and stepped forward, then leaned over to pull Polly’s sword from her scabbard. Lifting a finger to her lips and cautioning them to silence, Julianne quietly stepped up behind the man as he undid his pants.

  When he was done pissing, he stumbled around to face Julianne. The sword she held was an inch from his eye.

  He stepped past it without blinking. Julianne smiled and handed Polly back her weapon. Once he was a short distance away, Julianne said, “Sorry. Just making sure the spell is working.”

  Bastian gave a nervous giggle. “Guess that means it is,” he said.

  “You thought it might not?” Polly asked, head twitching back and forth as she watched for danger.

  Julianne shrugged. “Usually, it’s fine. But with all these mystics running around with triple-layered shields, I didn’t want to find out the hard way.”

  “Fair enough.” Polly waited for Julianne and Marcus to move back into the lead.

  They finally spotted a small group of men sleeping on the grass, separated by a short distance from the main group.

  “Start there,” Julianne said. “Adeline, are you ready?”

  They walked over, staying quiet and waiting until a three-man patrol had passed by. Julianne whispered something. “I’ve taken off the disguise,” she whispered. “Say your piece and leave them with this.” She thrust a handful of jerky and fruit into Adeline’s hand, then stepped back.

  Adeline approached the nearest man, shaking him awake gently. She pressed a hand to his mouth when he jerked up, then released it slowly.

  “Hush,” she said quietly. “I can’t be seen by the others.”

  “Who… Lady Adeline?” the man said, eyes wide in wonder. The distant bonfire reflected in his eyes as tears welled.

  “Joseph, isn’t it?” Adeline said. “I met you, once. Your daughter goes to my father’s school. Her name is Jessie?”

  “Yes.” Joseph gulped down a quiet sob. “Yes, Jessie’s my girl. But your father—”

  “That creep is not my father,” she hissed. “His name is Rogan. He’s a magic user, a despicable man masquerading as Father and lying about me, too. Joseph, I wasn’t kidnapped.”

  “What?” he asked, bewildered. “Why are you here, then?”

  “I fled here to escape Rogan,” she explained. “Father is here, too, safe inside the city walls. Jospeh, you must leave. Don’t fight Tahn. The people there are innocent.”

  Joseph screwed up his face in confusion. “That makes no sense.” He rubbed his face. “Wait… is this a dream? Maybe I’m imagining you.”

  Adeline glanced at Julianne in alarm. “No! Joseph, I’m as real as you are. Please, you have to listen to me!”

  “Adeline, we have to move,” Julianne whispered. The sound of men chatting to each other buzzed in the distance, coming closer.

  “Take these. Remember what I said.” Adeline shoved the small pile of food at Joseph and rejoined the others.

  They snuck out, and Julianne cast the invisibility illusion on Adeline once they were out of sight.

  “This is useless,” Adeline said. “By morning, he’ll think it’s all a dream, and he won’t pay any attention.”

  “That’s why you left him food,” Julianne said. “Rogan destroyed their rations. When they see that, they’ll know something happened, and when they start talking, only to find they all had the same dream?” Julianne smiled. “Trust, Adeline. Trust your people.”

  When they approached the next group, Adeline woke three of the sleeping men. Though dazed and wary, the
y seemed to accept that she was real. “Save the food until morning,” she said, handing them each a small portion.

  “Of course, Lady Adeline,” they murmured, gazing at her in awe. “But… if you want us to desert Lord Geor—Rogan’s army, shouldn’t we go now?”

  She shook her head, falling back on the instructions Julianne had given her. “You’ll be caught by his patrols. Wait until morning, when Rogan calls the attack. When his men go forward, run like hell.”

  A chorus of assent buoyed her heart, and she left them feeling more confident than when she had spoken to Joseph.

  Julianne’s plan will work, she told herself. When the men who aren’t sure see the others leave, they’ll run, too.

  They managed to speak to six more groups of men, Adeline insisting that they do their best to spread the rumor of her safety and encourage other Muir civilians to flee when the attack was called in the morning.

  To some, she gave more details—about Rogan’s tricks, and her father’s status—but twice, she was interrupted by a guard or patrol and had to cut the meeting short. Each time, she left a small handful of snacks to fill their stomachs.

  “This is the last one,” Julianne said. “It’s getting dangerous.” A scan of the army’s minds had showed they were getting restless. Some of the people Adeline had spoken to were already telling their friends of her visit, and sharing the small bounty she had left as proof.

  “So, I’d better make it a good one,” Adeline said, nodding confidently.

  She crept past two tents and then into a third. Waking the two men inside, she quickly told her story, now well-rehearsed.

  “If Rogan is really pretending to be your father, how do we know who you really are?” one of them said, suspicion etched all over his face.

  Adeline faltered. So far, they had taken her appearance at face value.

  “I know,” the second man said. “Who really snipped your father’s buttons off before his presentation, back when you and George were children?”

  Adeline blushed. “Really? Of all the things to ask, you chose that?” She glared at him a moment, then said, “It was me.”

  “Ha!” the first man said. “It wasn’t! You’re fake, just like you said your father is.”

  The second one, though, shook his head. “Nah, Harvey. She’s telling the truth, alright. My aunt was working in the manor and said Miss Adeline here was caught with a big pair of scissors and a handful of buttons in her room the next week. No one ratted her out. If she was lying, she’d have blamed her brother.”

  “I was trying to replace them with ones I’d made,” she admitted, chagrined. “I was too young and silly to know paper buttons wouldn’t hold worth a damn. When I couldn’t fix it, I hid the evidence and let George take the fall.”

  “That’s our Ade, alright,” the second man said. He dropped his head. “I’m sorry, my lady. We shouldn’t have questioned—”

  “No!” she snapped. “It’s a lack of questioning that got us here. Has no one noticed my supposed father’s change of personality? Has no one asked why?”

  They exchanged glances. “Well, can’t say we couldn’t see something had changed. Only, every time someone had the chance to ask him, they came back all convinced it was definitely him.”

  “Part of the magic,” she explained. “Look, I’m running out of time. Will you help tell the others? I’ve only gotten to a few men, but if I don’t get back to Tahn, things could go very badly in the morning.”

  They nodded eagerly. “At your service, Lady Ade. Life and soul.”

  They saluted and she impulsively leaned over to hug each of them. “Thank you. I know the people of Muir look up to me and my father, but honestly, we’re the ones who are blessed.”

  She wiped away a tear and scurried away, safe under Julianne’s spell once again.

  “We’ve done what we can,” Julianne said. “Hopefully, it’s enough to disrupt the attack tomorrow. All I need is a chance—if I can get to Rogan, that bastard will go down.”

  Adeline nodded. “The more that flee, the less we’ll have to worry about hurting innocent people.”

  “Do you really think we can pull this off, Jules?” Marcus asked.

  She knew without asking that he was really asking a different question. He wanted to know if she could really sneak through an army, kill Rogan, and return in one piece.

  “With one hand behind our backs,” she said with a grin.

  “Which begs the question,” Polly said, “why you don’t just sneak on in and kill him now?”

  Julianne shook her head. “He’s surrounded by a group of soldiers and mental magicians who are completely under his spell, and well-shielded to boot. If I try it now, then either they’ll catch me, or Rogan will die by mistake.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Polly asked, one eyebrow shooting up her forehead.

  “If Rogan dies, his minions will go nuts and kill a bunch of people, then themselves,” Danil explained. “War is messy and disorganized, especially when you’re fighting with an untrained force. Much better chance of sneaking in, knocking him out, and buying enough time to dismantle the death spell.”

  Polly just stared. “Wow. This guy is a grade A villain, isn’t he?”

  The whole party nodded in unison.

  “Well, good thing we’re not gonna let him get away with it,” she said. Polly pulled out her sword and gripped it. “Let’s go. We’ve got a war to win.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Rogan stood high in his horse’s stirrups, poking out over the swollen mass of men. Most were on foot—only his trained soldiers and loyal magicians were allowed horses.

  The silence would have been unnerving to a lesser man. As Rogan eyed the woman atop the the wall, though, every fiber of his being was pulled to her.

  “Julianne, we have you surrounded!” he called. “Surrender. Open your gates and give your people the chance to live.”

  “Fuck you, Rogan!” she called back.

  He cursed her shields. It would be so much easier to communicate using their magic. “Now, dear, cursing is for the dregs of society. We’re better than that, aren’t we?”

  “How is this for better? Order your men to stand down. Give yourself over to us. We’ll make sure you get the help you so clearly need.” Her frosted gaze gave no hint of the fear she must surely be feeling.

  Rogan heaved a sigh, only now paying attention to the mutters of his men.

  “Rogan? Who’s Rogan?” Several eyes turned to him. Farther off, the murmurs held hints of resolve rather than confusion or surprise. “Kev was right!” And “...telling the truth?” reached his ears, but he brushed them off.

  “We know you have Adeline, the Lady of Tahn. And I—Lord George, her father—” Rogan looked around as if to reassure his men that he was speaking the truth. “I demand you turn her over, safe and unharmed.”

  A second figure stepped up next to Julianne and Rogan’s heart jumped into his throat. Two women, one in shining white and the other wearing vibrant blue, stood tall and proud.

  “I am not a prisoner!” Adeline called.

  Rogan smiled, a bubble of laughter rising in his chest. Damn fools! They walked right into my trap.

  He whispered a few words and for the briefest moment, those watching felt a flicker in their vision, like a distant wave of heat rising up to distort the image of the women standing above them.

  Buzzing filled their ears and drowned out speech as the white-robed figure raised a hand. A dagger sparkled in the morning sun for a moment as time seemed to freeze. It plunged towards the woman in blue, stabbing into her back.

  She fell, crumpling, then tumbling backwards off the wall as Julianne turned her glare to the army.

  Breathing hard and flushed with excitement, Rogan released the spell. “Now who’s in charge, bitch?” he panted.

  Julianne ripped off her cloak. Rogan started, squinting for a better look. How?

  “I am Adeline, and this is my father!” She shook out her lo
ng, dark hair as the illusion fell away. Lord George—the real Lord George—stepped up beside her.

  “That man is an imposter!” George yelled, thrusting a finger at Rogan.

  Rogan desperately whispered the words for another illusion spell, but without a clear plan, the magic fizzled away.

  Roars of outrage went up, and the army seethed. Some ran. Others turned toward their leader, trying to fight their way through the brainwashed soldiers and hired mercenaries protecting him.

  “You bitch!” Rogan screamed, wheeling his horse around. “I’ll have your head, and your bastard father’s, too!”

  “Charge!” Bette screamed from behind the wall.

  Ropes slithered down, tethered to railings, and men began to slip down. On the watchtower, George and Adeline quickly jumped to the ground, their fall cushioned by Jakob.

  “This way, my lord,” he said, ushering his girlfriend and her father away to safety.

  Julianne lowered herself to the ground as fast as she could, not stopping to wait for Marcus before plunging into the fray.

  She used her staff to block blows and leverage her way through the press of bodies. She burst into a small clearing, then was yanked back a moment before a horse kicked out, narrowly missing her face.

  “Bitch’s oath, Jules! Be careful!” Marcus pushed her forwards again as the horse turned and they scooted past it. “I told you, we should have gone around the back.”

  “No time,” Julianne said. “I can only track him while he’s surrounded by people.”

  She angled away to the left, then changed directions before swinging back around. “Dammit! He’s being pushed back and forth.” She ducked a swing from a sword, then flinched as Marcus stabbed the man with a spear, splattering her with blood.

  “Pick a direction,” he said. “And I’ll clear a path.”

  Julianne reached out for the small space where a conspicuous absence of minds formed a tiny circle in the middle of the battle. “That way!” she cried, pointing.

  Marcus lifted his rifle. A flash signaled the blast that threw men out of the way, and he grabbed Julianne’s arm, dragging her forward. “Two minutes, and I can do it again,” he said. “But it’s tight with fighting ahead.”