When I realized that, I also realized, through our Joining bond, Ilgard must have been taking my fear and replacing it with his own calm assurance. He had never done this before or anything like it. Perhaps the barriers I’d knocked down earlier when I was trying to get him to open his door to Elisia and me had changed another facet of our bond. Whatever the case, I was grateful for his help and felt my heart rate slow to a steadier beat.
He must’ve sensed me calming. With a final hard clasp, he let me go.
“Now,” he said, “we fight.”
I drew a deep breath, nodded, and together we plunged into the fray.
Dread, death, and blood were all around, but fight we did, at times back to back, at times side by side. The initial onslaught of fear and revulsion nearly overwhelmed me, but all the past months of training kicked in. I reached deep within and found my magic, then I sent my senses toward my sword, the sword I’d created from this magic. Becoming this sword was even easier than Becoming Laytrii’s sword, possibly because it was part and parcel to me and my gifts. I found it and Became it; afterward, I knew neither panic nor pain as I waged war.
Time stood still, locked in a frigid state of combat. I had little recollection of how long the battle lasted or how many I killed, but by the time the struggle ground to a slow, torturous halt, my sword was slick with scarlet. Encircling Ilgard and me on every side were dead and dying, both friend and foe. More of our allies stood than theirs, so I assumed we’d won. I also assumed the fighting here was almost at an end. All that remained were a few small pockets of resistance that were even now being dispatched.
I freed the power I’d been holding, noticing instantly how my clothing was soaked with blood and sweat. Salt was dried on my skin, and strands of hair clung to my face and neck. I used one hand to peel them off as I gave myself a hasty once-over. I was relieved to discover only a few cuts and nicks.
I was distracted from my inspection when Norband suddenly plunged by. Ilgard caught his subordinate’s arm, bringing him up short.
“The palace?”
“Secure, my lord.”
“And the city?”
The Simathe Chief Captain shook his head. “Turmoil. The Doinum have either turned against us or slain all Ranetron leaders in Laytrii. The men are confused; some fight for and some against us.”
“What about the people?” I spoke up. “Are they for or against us?”
The warrior’s ebony gaze flicked toward me. “Divided as well, my lady. The Ranetron need their High-Chief; the people their Artan.”
I turned helplessly to Ilgard. “But right now, I can only fight. What good does that do? Even if I could do something more, what if it’s not enough? What if people don’t believe in me? What if they won’t accept me?”
Disregarding the other man’s presence, with a movement quicker than my eyes could follow, he snaked his hands out to catch my arms just below the wound received during my fight with Dilk. He pulled me near, his fingers biting so sharply into my flesh that I almost cried out.
“Listen well, my lady. The time to stand up and be accounted for is now. Do what you are able, and those who believe in you will fight for you. Tonight, you are changed. You may no longer hide behind the walls of Laytrii or Treygon, behind the Moonkind or the fairies or the Simathe. Not even behind myself. As you yourself said, those days are gone—that woman is gone. In her place stands prophecy fulfilled. The Artan. Fight, and we fight with you. You will conquer.”
The fierceness of his impossibly black eyes, the urgency of his grasp, and the exigency of his words left no room for doubt. I knew if he didn’t think I could do this, he wouldn’t be saying these things. If anything, Ilgard was not one to sugarcoat the truth. He believed this was the time, and he believed in me. I simply had to believe it myself.
You can do this, Hannah. You can. I know it seems insane to finally and forever accept the fact that you are the Artan, but right now that’s what you have to do. You have to accept it, you have to become it, and you have to win this fight.
The sun was finally rising in the east, the promise of a new day brightening the early morning sky. A new day for Laytrii, for Aerisia, for Aerisia’s people.
A new day for me.
Closing my eyes, I drew a deep breath, steeling my heart and soul against the inevitable, and nodded once. Just once.
Nothing more needed to be said.
I couldn’t deny that my courage failed me more than once during the heart-pounding ride toward the city of Laytrii. Already this morning I’d had enough of blood and death to last me a lifetime. I knew I was likely going into yet more and wondered how people managed to become warriors who dealt with it all the time. That, I knew, wasn’t the life for me, never mind that I was the Artan.
There has to be another way, I kept thinking.
But what?
We hadn’t even cleared the huge city gates before the din of battle assaulted our ears. Proving Norband’s warnings true, people fought in the streets, some with and some against the Simathe and Ranetron strewn about. Doors and shutters of houses and businesses were locked tight, some even nailed shut, as those inside sought protection from the madness. I honestly couldn’t believe what I was seeing. How could the Doinum have managed to turn so many against us?
Halting in front of me, Ilgard dismounted, preparing to enter the combat on foot. As he did, a thought suddenly struck me. The memory of the Simathe Chief Captain’s words flashed across my mind, bringing with them an unlikely idea.
The Ranetron need their High-Chief; the people their Artan, he had said.
I think I know what I have to do, I realized, feeling excitement—a nervous but good sort of excitement—building in my chest. Had I found the way to stop these atrocities for good?
Throwing myself off the back of my horse, I shoved my way through the warriors packed in around me, calling Ilgard’s name.
“My lady?” He spun to face me.
“Ilgard,” I panted, sliding to a stop in front of him. “Can you get Lord Garett and me to a really high place? It has to be a place where lots of people can see us, and it has to be quick.”
He stared down at me, uncomprehending, like he wondered if I’d suddenly taken leave of my senses. Pressed for time, I grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a little in my need to make him understand.
“Ilgard, I mean it! If there’s a place like that, you have to take me there right now!”
Again he hesitated, but only for a second. Something in me must have warned him this was important. He managed to snag the attention of a nearby Ranetron, commanding the soldier to fetch his lord and be quick about it. The young man hurried to obey, and Lord Garett was standing before us in a matter of moments.
The Ranetron High-Chief had lost his helmet during the fighting. His red-blond hair was matted with sweat and blood, and his face was streaked with more of the same. I wondered if I looked as bad as he did and decided dismally, Probably worse.
We withdrew from the struggle to quickly hash out our plans. Both High-Chiefs cornered me against the wall of a nearby wine shop while we spoke, using their own bodies to shield me from danger as I sketched out my idea to Lord Garett. He nodded approvingly.
“I begin to see your plan, my lady. There is a place we might go.”
“The city square? The white bridge?”
This from Ilgard.
“Aye. Come, my lady. The High-Chief and I will take you there.”
The two men took the lead, dashing down a side alley. I followed closely, guarded by Cole and a couple other Simathe. In an effort to keep as far from the clash as possible, they escorted me in a roundabout way to our destination, utilizing a series of back streets and narrow lanes. While we were lost in this confusing, complex labyrinth, the noise of the skirmish receded for a time. It grew louder again as we made a sharp turn to the left, heading back, I assumed, toward the action.
We raced out onto a broad street, running hard. Here and there were clusters of people fighting
. For the most part they ignored us, being too caught up in their own senseless battles to notice any newcomers. Only a few were foolish enough to actually challenge us, and these were eradicated so quickly I was never given the time or opportunity to make use of my own weapon. I couldn’t say I was sorry.
Another street, even broader than before. This one I judged to be one of the city’s main thoroughfares. Now, the further we went, the more intense the fighting. By this point, we were all fighting hard to stay on our feet and stay close together. At times, the cobblestones beneath our feet were slick with blood, impeding progress. The fallen were strewn across the ground, the wounded crying out for help, their moans blending in with the general noise and confusion.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a crazed woman with wild hair came charging straight at me. Face twisted in anger, she screamed curses at “the evil deceiver.” In her upraised hand, she gripped a huge butcher knife, which she looked prepared to use.
Sheer instinct took over, and I flung a burst of raw power straight at her. It left my fingertips in the form of a dazzling ball of blue flame, striking her in the middle of the chest, and knocking her backward to the ground. Her head collided with the cobblestones, and she moved no more. Even as I turned to go, I saw the flames of my self-made weapon beginning to lick greedily at her hair and clothing. Sickened, I knew I must put a stop to this before I was forced to take yet another life, even in self-defense, of the people I was supposed to be delivering.
After a fierce struggle, we finally reached the bridge.
A rather narrow, shallow river swept through the middle of the city, speeding through in its hurry to reach the mighty Largese River a few miles beyond. This smaller river, the Coiyne, started as a stream somewhere high in the Unpassed Mountains, the location of its source a mystery to all except possibly the Simathe. As it tumbled through the midst of the city, the Coiyne became Laytrii’s main water source. There were specially appointed riverwatchers whose job was to keep a close eye on the river, making sure it stayed clean. People caught emptying chamber pots or dumping refuse into its waters were heavily fined or otherwise punished.
The Coiyne not only sliced through the very heart of the huge city, but actually the city square itself. Here it was spanned by the beautiful, soaring Singing Bridge. Elisia, who’d told me all these things, had included the fact that the Singing Bridge had gotten its name from the enchanted Singing Stones, mentioned in the Artan’s prophecy. They were actually discovered by builders digging the bridge’s foundation.
The bridge was unusually high, designed for style and grandeur as much as function. It was tall enough to be seen over the rooftops of the city’s grandest mansions; in fact, it could be seen from any vantage point in Laytrii. Slender and elegantly arched, the Singing Bridge sported fanciful scrollwork railings carved so fine they resembled lace. And although built from the same delicate pink-and-silver marble as Laytrii’s palace, the bridge did appear white from a distance (hence its other moniker of the “white bridge”). It was for the middle of this vantage point that we now found ourselves fighting and running.
The Singing Bridge
Ahead of me, I saw Ilgard thrust his sword deep into a Doinum guarding the ascent of the bridge. We were only halfway up, and several more of this one’s companions blocked our way. While he fell to the warrior-lord’s sword, the next went to his yedin. Even as Ilgard withdrew his sword from one victim, he slammed his elbow into the face of the other. The Doinum went reeling backward. A swift kick took out the creature’s feet, and then the Simathe was plunging his yedin mercilessly into the creature’s chest.
The yedin, a weapon no longer than a Simathe’s sword, was three pronged with razor-sharp talons tipping each prong. Because of its ease of transport and use, Simathe generally carried a yedin, along with their other weapon of choice, when they went into battle. It was a yedin with which Ilgard had killed Jonase; seeing it now was enough to bring back a host of unwanted memories. I averted my eyes as we rushed past the Doinum’s corpse, not wanting to stir up further mental turmoil.
Lord Garett took out a screaming Aerisian man armed with a spear, and then we were in the middle of the bridge. With the Simathe and Garett hemming me in, I moved to the railing and looked down. Citizens and soldiers alike filled the city square, their rioting spilling out into the streets and alleyways beyond. In a few places they were stretched very far, as far as to the great gates through which we’d entered.
Had the battle not been raging, I would have enjoyed this—my first real view of the vast, handsome city. I’d been kept so busy at Laytrii’s palace the past few months that I hadn’t gotten a chance to visit the city. At present, however, the beauty wasn’t what caught my eye, but the cruel skirmishing and killing.
I was here now. Time to put my plan into action. But how to gain their attention? Shouting would do no good. I’d never be heard above the din. Could I amplify my voice? Even if I could, would that do the trick? Would anyone want to listen to just me, even a very loud me? I couldn’t risk it; I needed something impossible to ignore. Sifting through ideas, I remembered with a start the ball of flame I’d used earlier to kill the woman who charged me. Could I do something like that again? On a much larger scale?
I looked to my friends. “Get ready. I’m going to try something.”
My companions exchanged glances, but I closed my eyes and shut them out, concentrating on the task at hand. Dropping my sword to my feet and stretching my arms, I opened myself up to the river within, letting it fill and engulf and wash over me like a mighty wave. Retracting my arms, I mentally caught hold of a single ripple, which I sent flowing from mind to hands. Opening my eyes, I beheld with satisfaction the large sphere of floating, shimmering, blue-white flame hovering between my hands.
Holding it there by willpower alone, I searched desperately for a spot below, any empty spot…found it, and threw! The sphere streamed from my hands like a streak of blue-white lightning. Almost in slow motion, the glittering fire hurtled toward the cobblestoned city square. It struck, and a fountain of dirt, stone chunks, and flame sprayed dozens of feet into the air, calling an effective halt to the battle. People screamed, falling back in confused terror. Some tried to run, tripped over cobblestones, bodies, or broken pavement, and fell clumsily to their hands and knees. Confusion reigned.
In the midst of it all, a strong voice beside me cried loudly, “People of Laytrii, hear me!”
At the cry, a few swung their attention our way. Lord Garett shouted the same words a second time, even louder, causing more people to look toward us. By his third call, people were glancing at each other in confusion, shifting nervously, then peering up anxiously at us. Many dropped or sheathed their weapons. Most began edging closer, assembling in a massive crowd down below. Even those previously skirmishing in streets and alleyways gathered, having heard the explosion and come running to investigate.
A relative hush fell over the crowd as former enemies, fighting to the death only minutes before, gawked up at the strange group atop the Singing Bridge: several Simathe, a Ranetron, and a half-dressed woman obviously not Aerisian. I could only imagine what was running through their minds. As for me, now that I had their attention, I felt suddenly tongue-tied and edgy. I rubbed sweat-slick palms fretfully against my nightshift before raising them to grip the bridge’s solid rails. Hard.
What do I say to these people? Who am I to think I can end this insanity? Who am I to think I can lead them?
Below, someone in the crowd coughed noisily, breaking the spell fear had cast over me. Flicking a glance toward Ilgard, I caught his reassuring nod. Encouraged, I turned once more to the people beneath the bridge.
My people.
Their Artan
Clearing my throat softly, I began.
“People of Aerisia, of Laytrii—Simathe, Ranetron, Moonkind, all of you gathered here today… I am Hannah Winters. I was brought here to Aerisia from Earth, your sister land, many months ago. Most of you know this. Most of you kn
ow me as the woman said to be your Artan.”
I paused, stealing a moment to draw a deep breath and study faces before continuing. By the ever-brightening morning light, I could see the people below listened intently. Also, one by one, doors and shutters were opening as folk slipped outside or poked their heads out to see what was going on. Much to my relief, I noticed no more Doinum, and hoped they’d all fled for good or had been dealt with. Permanently.
Buoyed by these encouraging signs, I went on.
“For a long time, I was unhappy to be here. I refused to believe I was your Artan. I hated Aerisia and what coming here had cost me: a life on Earth with my friends and family. Everything I knew and loved, I was forced to leave behind when I was brought here.
“But after a while, all that changed.
“First, I was attacked by The Evil, and if not for the protection of your Ranetron High-Chief and these Simathe warriors”—I gestured in turn toward each of my companions—“I would now be dead. After this, for my own protection I was sent to Treygon, the Simathe stronghold. There, I learned to fight not just with weapons, but with the power within me.”
They were hanging on my every word. Though there were those who scowled in angry defiance, none dared interrupt.
“With the help of many people—the Elders, the Ranetron, Simathe, Moonkind, Spinners, and even a fairy—I learned more of what I was. Trust me, it wasn’t only you who had to be shown who I was; it was me also, and it took time for me to believe it. However, today, right now, I stand before you to tell you I am the Artan.
“By now, I’ve had to fight and kill servants of the Dark Powers, The Evil, more than once. They’ve tried several times to destroy me by taking my life…” Here, I hesitated, debating whether or not to go on. Something told me these people needed and deserved to know the whole truth if they were ever going to trust me implicitly. Steeling myself, I plunged ahead. “And when that didn’t work, they even tried rape.”
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