Siege of Rage and Ruin

by Django Wexler

  “Are you all right?”

  “I … think so.” He takes a deep breath, sweat rolling down his face. “I’ve never tried that with two people before.”

  “It worked perfectly.” I look around. “Where are we?”

  “Lotus Wing,” he says, wiping his brow. “Next one out from Pear. It’s up against the inner wall of the palace.”

  “Can we get past?”

  “The inner wall, yes. There’s another passage that will take us to the outer courtyards. From there, though…” He shakes his head. “There’s supposed to be an escape tunnel, but I’ve never actually tried to find it.”

  “One thing at a time,” I tell him. I try to persuade myself that the pressure on my mind is weaker. “Which way to the secret door?”

  ISOKA

  The curtain on the platform shifts, and Kuon Naga emerges.

  He looks much the same as the last time I saw him. Plain, casual robe, wire-rimmed glasses, long fingernails like a cat’s claws. He steeples his hands, sleeves falling together, and comes to the front of the platform.

  Perhaps fifteen yards separate us. A few heartbeats. I could summon my blades, my armor, and cut him down—

  Don’t be an idiot. A half-dozen Immortals have filed in behind Naga, men and women in dark armor and chain-veils. At least one of them will be a Tartak adept. They’d stop you in your tracks. And besides, then you’d get Tori and your friends killed.

  All of which is perfectly sensible. But my hands still itch, looking at Naga’s bland smile. I’d had a life—not a perfect life, or even a good life, but one that was my own. And he’d taken it from me, just because he thought I was a tool fit for his purpose. The fact that he’d turned out to be right rankled all the harder.

  “Hello, Miss Gelmei,” Naga says, voice carrying easily across the distance. “I’m afraid I don’t know most of your companions.”

  “It’s better that way,” I say. I give Zarun and Jack a careful look, then come forward a few steps. “I did what you asked me to do. I stole Soliton.”

  “So I gather.” Naga smiles wider. “A feat worthy of legend, I’m sure. It’s a pity the story will never be told.”

  “I wasn’t the first person you sent,” I go on. “Some of them smuggled information out, I assume?”

  “I am not entirely ignorant, if that’s what you mean.”

  “In that case, you know turning over control of Soliton isn’t a matter of handing you a key. The Eddica system acknowledges me, so I control the ship and the angels.”

  “Indeed.” There’s a slight edge to Naga’s voice, a hunger, breaking through his polished veneer. “I have a … suitable candidate to be the ship’s master.”

  Another Eddica user. It shouldn’t surprise me. Probably the poor bastard he had lined up to go onboard once I died. I wonder how many like me are out there, just unaware of the power that they can tap. Unlike lifting rocks or setting things on fire, it’s easy for the power of the Well of Spirit to go unnoticed, even by the wielder. All I ever had were strange dreams.

  “From what I understand,” Naga goes on, “you can transfer the authority you possess to another, and thus place the ship under my command. Is that correct?”

  “More or less,” I say. No need to fill him in on exactly how the system works, or the presence of Hagan within it. “Assuming you’ve kept up your side of the bargain. I want to see my sister.”

  “Why is it so hard for people to trust one another?” Naga lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve never dealt less than honestly with you, have I?”

  “I want to see Tori,” I growl. “If you’ve hurt her—”

  If she’s hurt—not dead, she can’t be dead, please Blessed please—I don’t know if I’ll be able to restrain myself from taking Naga’s head. On the other hand, he has to know this, so if Tori’s hurt then this is a trap and none of us are walking out of here.

  “Peace, Miss Gelmei.” Naga holds out a hand. “I’m only having a bit of fun. Your sister is well, of course.” He looks over his shoulder. “Fetch the girl.”

  There’s a long pause. It stretches, silence building on itself, like a rickety tower rising higher and higher, making the final collapse ever louder. The curtain behind Naga rustles, and I see someone whispering inaudibly.

  Oh, rot. I badly want to step back and put myself shoulder to shoulder with Jack and Zarun, but I feel pinned to the spot. I clench my hands, and power crackles along my arms, barely held in check. Come on, come on …

  “There appears to be … some difficulty.” The frustration in Naga’s voice is evident. He turns to his Immortals and speaks in low tones. Someone replies. I catch his muffled order. “Then find her!”

  I look away from Naga and out across the bulk of the palace. It does seem like it would be a difficult place to find anyone. Tori?

  TORI

  The second set of passages are considerably less pleasant. We follow a tunnel that slopes downward, burrowing under the inner wall. As it passes belowground, it grows damp, and pools of filthy water have collected between the flagstones. We pick our way carefully, and I wish I had better footwear than the delicate slippers from my Pear Wing wardrobe.

  “This is as far as I’ve come,” Avyn says when we reach the next junction. “I never needed to visit the outer palace.”

  “You can turn back.” I try to keep the hesitation out of my voice—I’m not sure I can find my way out alone—but he shakes his head.

  “I’ve studied the map. I can get you to the outer courtyard, at least.”

  That has to be far enough. The pressure in my head is definitely slackening. Just a little longer …

  He points the way at the junction with only a moment’s hesitation, and we continue onward. A set of stairs takes us back to ground level, and a door lets us out into a wood-floored corridor, not as secret as the tunnels but still clearly disused. Slits between the boards in the wall give a rotoscoping view of the palace outside. It’s different from the Pear Wing, less landscaped and more business-like. I see vast stables, carts outside overflowing with dung, dirt courtyards trampled by many feet, and high, narrow buildings with a minimum of ornamentation.

  “We’re getting close to the main gate,” Avyn says. “There should be an exit in a lower yard up ahead. If we can cross it, there’s a way up to the wall-walk that won’t be guarded during the day.”

  I nod, breathlessly. He gives me a tentative smile as we round the corner and face another door. There’s a crack in the wall beside it, and I apply my eye. Outside is a square dirt yard, hard up against a wooden wall decorated with fanciful creatures. As Avyn promised, there’s a ladder that leads up to the top of the wall, and a narrow walkway above where we can probably go unnoticed.

  Unfortunately, between us and the ladder is a good thirty yards of courtyard, and there are at least ten guards hanging around. Only a few are armed—the rest appear to be on break, squatting in the shadow of a building playing at dice. It doesn’t matter, though. For us, a scream is as bad as a stab.

  “I’ll cloak us in shadow,” Avyn says.

  “Are you sure?” I eye the distance doubtfully. “That’s a long way.”

  “I’ll manage.” He takes my hand again. “Stay close.”

  Shadows wind themselves noiselessly around us, and the world is shrouded in semidarkness. Avyn eases open the door and we shuffle out so I can close it behind us. He starts to walk, and I follow, certain that every eye is on us. The men playing dice don’t look up, and their shouts and laughter are enough to cover our footsteps. But several more guards wait by the base of the wall, spears on their shoulders, with the blank, distant expressions of men used to spending long periods of time staring into space.

  They’ll see us. The dust from our footsteps. Something. My back starts to itch, and I glance over at the Emperor.

  He’s sweating, breathing hard. I can see energy rippling over his skin, wraiths of shimmering power chasing themselves up and down his body. His hand is warm, too warm, the po
wer coursing through him starting to burn itself into his skin.

  We’re not going to make it. We’re in the middle of the courtyard. “Halfway there,” I murmur, very quietly. “Come on.”

  “I…” He takes a step, then another. “I’m not sure I…”

  His eyes roll up in his head, and he slumps forward. I barely have a chance to catch him before he plants his face in the dust.

  Oh, rot.

  The shadows shred like smoke in a strong wind. We’re standing in the middle of the courtyard, in full view of ten astonished guards. One of the men at the wall lowers his spear and opens his mouth, ready to shout for an alarm—

  STOP. I push for all I’m worth, tearing through the last shreds of the Kindre fog, and the command ripples out in a soundless rush. The guard freezes in place, along with his companions. Back by the dice game, men who were starting to stand up and look around are caught in awkward squatting poses. One of them, off balance, falls onto his side without so much as twitching a muscle.

  I breathe out. Kindre blazes in my senses, every mind around me as visible as a bright lantern on a dark night. It feels like reaching the surface after a long swim underwater, or stepping out of a sauna into a cold wind. After so long, my energy is pent-up, overflowing. It practically crackles as I move.

  Avyn groans, and I help him sit up. He blinks, looking up at me, then around at the guards.

  “You…”

  “You got me far enough.” I pull him to his feet. “I can make it from here.”

  “But—”

  “You need to go. Now.” More guards would walk through here, sooner or later, and I can’t hold them all. More important, I can already tell I haven’t gotten away clean. Pushing through the Kindre fog has alerted the Immortal projecting it, and he’s no doubt rushing to tell Kuon Naga to hunt me down. “Get back to your rooms, and nobody will know you were involved.”

  It’s what he promised to do, but he hesitates. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, with more conviction than I really feel. “Go. I can’t hold them forever.” I pause. “And … thank you.”

  “I…” Whatever he’s going to say, he swallows the rest. He looks at the guards again, then runs for the secret doorway. Actually, right now, I feel like I could hold them forever. The enforced rest has apparently done wonders for my stamina after weeks of bad food and no sleep. Once Avyn is through the door and away, I run for the ladder. I send another pulse of Kindre power to quiet the minds of the guards, and as one man they slump to the ground, deep asleep. Hopefully I’ll be long gone before anyone finds them.

  Scrambling up to the wall-walk, I try to get my bearings. From here, I can see most of the palace, and in the other direction almost the entirety of Kahnzoka stretching down the hill toward the bay. There’s no easy way to get over the wall and down the other side, though, and I can sense more guards scattered through the grounds.

  A gate, then. Speed counts for more than stealth at this point. The palace guards are one thing—I can probably get past them. Once Naga’s Immortals get here …

  I spot the gate off to my left and start jogging in that direction. My senses probe for minds, feeling the guards and servants in the courtyards I pass. Whenever one of them glances at me, I send them a light caress, twisting their attention elsewhere. I don’t have shadows to cloak my progress, but I don’t need them. I can hide in plain sight.

  Up ahead, I feel a whole cluster of minds. Soldiers, and lots of them. They’re waiting in a courtyard, attention focused on a path leading out to a wide gravel drive. Palace troops with halberds are backed up by Ward Guard with crossbows, and the dark-armored figures of a trio of Immortals. They stink of the vanilla-bean scent of violent readiness. Farther ahead, on the other side of the drive, I can feel another cluster, also waiting.

  An ambush? It feels like a trap, ready to spring. But who are they waiting for—

  My senses run over the drive, between the two ambush parties, and my heart leaps in my chest. There are people I recognize there. A dozen of the flat, placid minds of my Blues, Giniva’s cloudy sparkle, and the prickly, sour shape of—

  Isoka! And she’s walking right into it.

  ISOKA

  Another messenger arrives behind the curtain. Naga listens to the frantic whispers, snaps something in return.

  I’m running out of patience. “Where is my sister, Naga? If you ever want to see your rotting ship—”

  Not that I plan to give it to him. But it’s nice to see him flustered, though he quickly smooths his features.

  “Your sister,” he says, “appears to be causing the guards some … difficulty. She will be with us momentarily.”

  “Isoka!”

  I blink, because that sounds like Tori’s voice. One of Naga’s Immortals shouts and points, and the guards are suddenly going for their weapons. I turn to see Tori lowering herself down from the wall-walk, hanging by her fingertips for a moment before dropping the last few feet to the ground.

  For a moment, I’m frozen as surely as if I’d spent the night beyond the Harbor’s protective embrace. Then Naga starts shouting, and that breaks the spell. Zarun and Jack have already moved to flank Tori, thank the Blessed, and in a few moments the Blues gather around her as well. I sprint over in a spray of gravel, bringing up my armor.

  My sister looks … fine. Better than fine, actually. She’s wearing an embroidered silk kizen of truly remarkable quality, with matching ribbons, jewels, and slippers, though the latter are a bit worse for wear. Her hair is carefully washed and braided, and her face isn’t as hollow as the night I arrived. More important, she doesn’t seem to be missing any pieces, which is all I could hope for after a stay in Naga’s company.

  “Isoka!” She runs to meet me. We collide a little too fast, nearly falling over, and she wraps her arm around my midsection. “Isoka, it’s a trap. There are soldiers everywhere—”

  “I figured,” I tell her. “I’ll handle it. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” She pulls away, wiping tears from her eyes. “Long story. Let’s get out of here.”

  I spin to face Naga, fighting a smile. “It seems like I’ve got what I came for.”

  “But our deal is not yet complete.” Naga has used the few moments to recover his composure. At a gesture, soldiers start filing into the courtyard from both sides, spearmen in palace guard uniforms and Ward Guard with crossbows. A rotting lot of them. Sounds behind me indicate more squads moving to cut off our retreat. “The terms remain the same. Deliver Soliton, or you and your sister will not leave the palace. One way or the other.”

  It’s still a hell of a bluff we’re trying to pull. But Tori is alive, unharmed, standing next me. It makes me feel like I can do anything.

  I pull the little bit of conduit up from my collar, clenching it in my fist. I can feel the Eddica current inside, weaker now, but still tied to where I’d take it from on Soliton. Through it, I send a message down across the city and out over the water.

  Hagan? Are you there?

  His response comes after a moment. I hear you.

  Bring her in.

  As you wish. I hear the slightest hint of amusement in his tone.

  “You want me to deliver Soliton?” I give Naga my cockiest grin, then turn to gesture through the gate. “Here she is.”

  Gasps and oaths echo through the courtyard.

  At this distance, it’s hard to see much detail down in the harbor. The Navy galleys look like insects, crawling across the foreshortened surface of the glittering sea. But Soliton is impossible to miss as it comes around the headland, more like a mountain than a vessel. Even I, who have spent so many months on board, have a difficult time grasping the sheer size of the thing. If the Navy galleys were bugs, Soliton would be the size of an ox.

  And, though the mind wants to insist that anything so large should be slow and lumbering, the great ship is fast. Hagan has driven Soliton as quickly as I’ve ever seen her move, a huge wave building up around the va
st double-bow. Most of the Navy ships scramble to get out of the way as fast as their oars can pull them. A few don’t, caught unawares or foolishly thinking to attack the behemoth, and they simply disappear into the froth of Soliton’s slipstream. I picture wrecked spars and drowned bodies surfacing in the great ship’s wake.

  Soliton is heading for Kahnzoka, and no force in the Empire is going to stop it.

  “What exactly,” Naga says acidly, “is this supposed to accomplish?”

  “It’s supposed to demonstrate to you that I can transmit orders to the ship from here,” I tell him, holding up the conduit. “I wasn’t sure if your spies had reported that little detail. And, of course, it’s supposed to get your attention.” I close the conduit in my fist. “Here are my terms. In a few minutes, Soliton will reach the docks. If Tori and I, and the rest of our party, are not on our way back to the city by then, the angels will be unleashed on Kahnzoka.”

  There’s a long pause. I fix Naga with a steady gaze.

  “When you first kidnapped me,” I go on, “and threatened my sister with rape and torture if I didn’t take on your suicide mission, you mentioned what happened to a port in Jyashtan that refused to offer sacrifices. So I know that you know what I mean. The orders are already given. If I don’t countermand them…”

  “You’re bluffing,” he says.

  I have to admit, my heart skips a beat. Because I am bluffing, but …

  “You wouldn’t do it,” Naga continues, and all of a sudden I’m smiling wider. “This is your home. Unleashing that kind of destruction here would wreck the Blessed Empire.”

  “You read my rotting file when you recruited me.” I let my anger seep into my voice, turning it into a snarl. “I assume it told you how much I believe in the rotting Empire. That’s why you sent me out there, because you knew that Tori was the only thing I cared about. So don’t tell me what I wouldn’t do if you hurt her.”