Shadeborn: A Book of Underrealm

by Garrett Robinson

  “He will not die,” said Loren grimly. “A dark enchantment protects him, binding the beast to life.”

  “Still, it secured our escape, and I thank you,” said the High King, kneeling to wrap a bandage about the thigh of one of her royal guard who had taken an arrow in the leg.

  “Your Grace,” said Loren. Then she turned on her heel and ran down the hallway toward the staircase.

  “Loren!” said Chet. “Where are you going?”

  “Finding us an escape.” She took the stairs two at a time, and Chet hastened to follow.

  “But why go up? We cannot fly away from here.”

  “Mayhap, but one never knows.”

  She threw open a door leading to one of the wide open balconies that circled the palace exterior. She could see the fighting at the eastern wall below them. As she had expected, Rogan again stood at the head of his soldiers, the gaping wound where his eye had been already stitching itself shut.

  Loren looked around in desperation, searching for some other way, some hidden door she had not noticed before. It seemed impossible. She had been a guest here less than a month. How could she find a new escape route more easily than those who had lived at the palace their entire lives? But she had to try. Loren ran down the balcony, around a corner of the palace. The sun blinked as it vanished behind the arches.

  Chet nearly crashed into her as she stopped in her tracks. He saw her looking up and followed her gaze. “What is it?”

  She did not answer. Loren was looking at the arches. The palace stretched out in five great wings. Along the top was a balcony, like the one they stood on now, but thirty feet higher. And from the end of each wing sprang an arch, gently rising before dipping back to meet the towers at each of the castle’s outer corners.

  “Come with me,” she said and ran back into the palace.

  When Loren reached the High King, the royal guard was engaged in a furious argument with the Lord Prince concerning their next move. Xain and Gem stood apart. Gem saw them and came running, eyes wide.

  “Where were you? I thought you had run off and abandoned us.”

  “You are not so lucky as all that,” said Loren. “You must suffer our company longer—quite a while longer, if I have my way.”

  “What do you—” he began, but Loren pushed past him to speak with the High King.

  “Your Grace,” she said, cutting through the argument between the Lord Prince and the royal guard. “There may be a chance to get you to safety.”

  Everyone stopped and stared at Loren. But where Loren had quailed under their gaze in the throne room, now she had no time and pressed on before they could answer.

  “We have no chance of victory by warfare, as any of us can plainly see. The castle entrances are blocked. This is not a time for blades and armor but for stealth and secrecy. Shed your arms and follow me, and I can get you beyond the palace walls.”

  “How?” said the Lord Prince.

  “The arches. They stretch from the top of each wing to the towers. They are high, but wide enough to walk on, and not too steep. But we must go quickly, for it will be a dangerous crossing, and if they see us they will shoot us down.”

  “That is madness,” said one of the royal guard. “’Tis fifty feet in the air.”

  But Enalyn studied Loren’s face then turned to the Lord Prince. “What is your counsel, Lord Prince?”

  He looked at Loren’s face in wonder, and she could see the thought working its way through his mind. “I . . ." he began.

  THOOM

  They heard a great crash outside, and the roaring of an army.

  “They have broken the eastern gate!” said one of the palace guard. “They are within the walls!”

  “Enough,” said Enalyn. “If they are in the walls already, we have no choice. Up the stairs, and quickly!”

  Loren led the way, jumping the steps like a deer, with Chet and Gem by her side. The High King followed, while the Lord Prince helped Xain and his son make the climb. Four of the royal guard came with them, the rest staying behind to guard the ground floor against the invaders.

  The stairs wound in a spiral. Loren ran past every floor. Only upon reaching the top did she finally take the door leading out of the staircase and quickly turned to gather her bearings. In a moment, she found the door leading outside and took it to another balcony. She went to the railing and looked down at the courtyard far below to see a swarm of Shades battling with palace soldiers on the pavement. She forced herself to look away.

  A few paces farther along the balcony, Loren found the spot where the arch joined the castle wall, some ten feet below the railing. It was not such a far drop, but it made Loren dizzy now; the arch was mayhap five feet wide, and if they stumbled upon landing, it was another forty-foot fall to the courtyard below.

  “That is not an easy jump,” said Chet beside her.

  “It is the only way. If only we had a rope! There is one in my pack, but I left that in our quarters.”

  The door opened behind them, and the rest of the procession came out onto the balcony. Xain took one look at the height and reeled heavily away from the railing. Gem stood brightly on tiptoe, leaned far over the edge, and said, “I made far more difficult leaps than this on the rooftops of Cabrus.”

  “Your Grace, you cannot think to go through with this,” said the royal guard. “It is certain death.”

  “Certain death is the battle that rages in the palace even now,” said Loren. “This is a hope, however slim.”

  “Five feet is about how slim I would call it,” Eamin said.

  “Unless someone is willing to suggest an alternative, my decision has been made,” said Enalyn. “Now help me out of this armor.”

  She, Eamin, and the royal guard all quickly shed their plate. Loren tried to help, though she knew little of how the pieces strapped together. Before long, they stood in their regular clothing and light shirts of chain, which would not hinder their movement.

  “Now, we must go down one at a time,” said Loren. “We should send one or two ahead of the High King, to help catch her and steady her landing.”

  “I will go first,” said Chet, and before she could argue, he seized the railing and vaulted over the balcony’s edge.

  “Chet!” she cried, running to the rail.

  He landed hard on the archway, taking the shock of landing on stone with his legs and falling forward. He spread his hands wide and gripped either edge of the path to hold himself steady. For a moment he lay there, recovering.

  “Up, boy,” called one of the royal guard. “I am coming down and have no wish to crush you.” He was a burly man with a trimmed beard, somewhat advanced in years but still strong. Chet scrambled to his feet. The guard lifted himself carefully over the railing then held on as he lowered himself. Once at the limit of his reach, he dropped. Facing backward, he landed badly and fell onto his rear with a grunt, nearly rolling off the edge. But Chet gripped his shoulder to steady him, and he managed to stand.

  “Make haste,” said Loren, for she was looking past the arch to the ground far below. Shades had broken through the soldiers in the courtyard. Even now they were in the palace, ransacking halls in search of the High King. “Your Grace, are you ready?”

  “Send them first,” said Enalyn, gesturing to Xain and his son.

  “Your Grace, I—” Xain began.

  “No time to argue,” she snapped. “Your son first, then you.”

  Xain took Erin and held him under the arms. “Look at me, Son. I am here. I will come right behind you. Be brave for me.”

  Erin nodded, his eyes teary.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, Xain lowered him over the edge, holding his son by his hands. Loren helped, leaning over to grip the boy by his wrists. Together, they hung as far over as they dared, until Erin’s ankles were a couple of feet above Chet and the royal guardsman’s outstretched arms. Loren nodded, and they let go. Erin fell into Chet’s arms then clung to his chest.

  “You next, wizard,” said Loren. �
��I can lower you down, if you like. You cannot weigh more than a sack of potatoes.”

  Xain glared at Loren before climbing hastily over the rail. He landed without trouble, then they lowered the High King. She nimbly jumped. Chet and her guard helped to steady her landing.

  The balcony door flew open, slamming into the wall with a crash. Loren looked over her shoulder to see Shades run into the sunlight, sun gleaming from their gore-soaked blades.

  “Run!” she cried, waving desperately to Chet and the others. “Get Her Grace to safety!”

  Xain was already walking carefully along the arch with his son and was a good distance ahead. The royal guard looked up at Loren with a grim nod, seized the High King, and dragged her away. Enalyn desperately fought him.

  “Eamin!” she cried in anguish. “Eamin!”

  “Jump,” said the Lord Prince, hefting his sword. “We will do our best to hold them off.”

  Three royal guard remained on the balcony, one spoke gruffly over his shoulder. “No, Lord Prince. You must get to safety. We shall remain here.”

  “I am afraid they are right, my lord,” said Loren. “Forgive me.”

  She nodded to Gem, and together they gripped Eamin’s arms and half threw him over the railing. He went over the edge with a shout, and they held him at the final second before he dropped. Then they released him, and he fell to the arch. Chet caught him and dragged him back. Loren and Gem jumped over together.

  Gem had vaulted a bit farther and landed catlike on the stone. But Loren had misjudged the width and landed too near the edge. As she fell forward on her knees, her left hand came down on empty space instead of stone. She pitched to her left, and for a terrifying moment hung out over empty space. Her body froze in terror.

  “No!” Chet leapt forward, landing in a slide on his back and gripping Loren’s tunic. Desperately he dragged her back until she rolled over and came to land atop him, her face less than an inch from his.

  “Keep your mind on the matter at hand, hunter’s son,” she mumbled, but her voice shook, as well as her hands where they gripped his shirt.

  “’Tis not my mind that wanders, woodsman’s daughter.”

  “If you two are quite done?” Gem was already up and running along the arch and had turned back to see them.

  They scrambled to their feet and ran. Loren risked a glance back to see the royal guard holding the railing against the Shades. But there were too many, and one by one they fell. The last took a blade to the gut, the sword thrusting out the back of his jerkin. He seized two of his foes and pitched backward over the railing. Shades screamed as their bodies fell to break on the pavement below. Loren ran.

  Hissing filled the air as arrows whizzed by, but by now they were too far for a clear shot. The arch dipped back down to block them from view. The slope was gentle enough to keep firm footing, and soon they had reached the tower’s top at the end. There the others waited, but other than that the tower was vacant. Loren looked off down the walls to find them empty. The Shades had broken into the palace, and the wall’s guards had all been slain.

  “They are coming,” said the royal guardsman. Loren turned to see that some Shades had braved the jump, and even now came along the stone archway toward them. Another tried to jump as she watched, but he missed his landing and pitched off into empty space.

  “They are foolish,” said Xain. Loren could see how it pained him, but still his eyes glowed as he summoned magic.

  Flames burst forth, striking the Shade in front. She screamed while beating at the flames. Lurching back, she struck the man behind her, and together they tumbled screaming from the arch. But more were coming down from the rail. From somewhere they had found a rope. Even now they were tying it about the railing. Soon they would be climbing rather than jumping.

  “Rope!” said Loren. “We need to flee, not fight.”

  The tower’s hatch lay gaping open, and she went down to search. In the corner Loren found what she was looking for: a long coil of rope, thick, strong and well woven. She threw the coil over her shoulder and climbed back out into the daylight. Chet helped her tie it around the tower’s outer rampart with solid knots. Xain held the archway against the Shades as they advanced, while one by one the others climbed down the tower’s outer wall.

  “Your turn, wizard,” said Loren.

  “Go first. I will be right behind you.”

  “Do I need to throw you again?”

  He growled, turned, and climbed down the rope. Loren kept a careful eye on the archway, but the Shades were too far away. Once Xain was low enough, she followed, and soon they were all fleeing through the city’s blood soaked streets.

  thirty-four

  The greater part of the fighting had moved within the palace, but there was still plenty in the streets. They moved cautiously, ducking out of sight whenever a group of Shades came running. They had climbed down the palace wall’s northwest tower and did not have far to go before reaching the western gate. But the way was slow, and they could not take the main streets, for those were well patrolled.

  Loren felt as though she were suffering the fall of Northwood again, for they saw the corpses of citizens in the streets all about. Only this time she was the one escorting others out of the city’s destruction rather than the one being rescued. She made a silent vow to herself: if need be, she would give her life to save the High King’s, in token of payment for Mag, who had perished for Loren.

  They heard the tramping of boots and pressed themselves against a shop wall. Shades ran by, along the street and toward the palace. Loren leaned out to watch after they had gone, ensuring they were out of sight.

  “How will we reach the western gate?” said Eamin. “Surely, they will have it guarded, especially if they know we have escaped the palace.”

  “We may be able to break through,” said Xain. “I have my magic, and you have your blades.”

  “Swords we have, but no armor, unlike our enemies. And forgive me for saying so, my friend, but you are nearly at the end of your strength.”

  Enalyn turned to Loren. “What say you, girl? We have made it this far by your counsel.”

  “I do not know, Your Grace,” said Loren. “In truth, I had not thought that far ahead, for I was not certain we would escape the palace at all.”

  “How comforting,” said Enalyn.

  “We scaled one wall,” said Chet. “We can scale another. Where can we go and not find the Shades gathered in strength, and make our way into a tower then down the other side?”

  “To the north,” said the Lord Prince. “But the problem is not the city wall. It is the docks. They will be swarming with Shades, and we cannot escape the island without a boat.”

  “One bridge at a time, my lord,” said Chet. “If we can make it beyond the north wall, then let us go to the north wall.”

  “I see you share Loren’s gift for not thinking far ahead,” said Enalyn.

  Loren was looking out beyond the edge of the building, her brow furrowed in concentration. Not far away, a strong wind whipped at the banners flying from the western wall. “They have not burnt the buildings.”

  Xain looked at her sharply. “What?”

  “They have not burnt the buildings. They are sacking the city, but they are not trying to destroy it. Why?”

  “Likely they mean to occupy it,” said Eamin. “If they can take the Seat for themselves, it will be a demonstration of their power.”

  “No,” said Enalyn, eyes widening. “They cannot risk their fleet. If the flames spread from the city to the docks, their ships will be destroyed. Then they will be trapped here, unable to flee if we should counterattack in strength.”

  “I do not see how that can help us,” said Xain. “Unless we mean to burn the city ourselves in hopes of the flames finding their ships.”

  “I think that is precisely what Loren has planned,” said Enalyn, eyeing her with a grim smile.

  Loren said, “The ship’s crews will have remained with their vessels, as well as s
ome soldiers to guard them. If they see the city burning, they may leave the ships to fight the fires. We could slip past them then, to take a ship for ourselves and flee.”

  Eamin stared at Loren as if she were mad. “You mean to burn our own city?”

  “It is lost already,” the High King said. “I think this plan may be a wise one. A strange sort of wisdom, certainly, and yet it may work.”

  “Xain, can you muster the flames?” said Loren.

  His skin was pale, and his arm shivered as it wrapped his son’s shoulders. “I have little strength but will do as I must.”

  “You may not have to,” said Loren. “Torches will suffice. Collect all you see as we move to the western wall. We will set flames wherever we think they may catch. Then, Xain, you can spread the fires with wind.”

  “That would be easier,” he said, nodding in thought.

  “Let us go, then, and quickly,” said Enalyn.

  They set off again, this time faster, for now their steps held purpose. Many wall fixtures held torches, and soon they each had collected a great armful. When they reached the west wall, they looked about to see if there were any Shades nearby to spot them. But the coast was clear.

  One torch sat in a fixture on the wall above them, but rather than remove it, Loren had Xain light it. One by one, she held the other torches in its flames until they all caught. Then she, Chet and Gem ran out among the buildings. Any place they found a shop with wooden shingles or an inn with a stable full of hay, they flung their torches. Soon, smoke rose from several buildings, then the smoke turned into fire and reached for the sky with angry red fingers. Blazing heat baked the air.

  “Now use your magic, Xain,” said Loren.

  Eyes glowing white, the wizard put forth his power. Air howled and whistled before his hands, and a heavy gale swept in from the sky. It struck the houses and carried the flames south, throwing sparks and flaming brands across the city’s western side.

  In moments, it seemed that half the island was burning.

  Casting her cloak about her, Loren ran to the western gate. She slowed as she neared it, searching warily for anyone who might spot her. But no one was in sight as she sidled up to the great wooden doors lying broken upon the ground, torn from their hinges by a battering ram, or else by some powerful magic. The portcullis still hung in the air—the attackers must have raised it during their assault.