The Burning Kingdoms

by Sally Green

  Edyon was surprised to find himself saying, “No. I won’t flee. I’ll fight.”

  Thelonius shook his head. “You’re brave and true, Edyon, but you’re not a soldier. The boats are only to be used as a last resort—you won’t need them, but they’re there.” He looked to Byron. “Stay with Edyon. You saved us before, Byron, and I know, should anything unexpected happen, that you will do all you can to protect Edyon.”

  Thelonius embraced Edyon, and they said their good-byes.

  Edyon watched from the ramparts as Thelonius rode out of the castle with his men. At the same time, the first of the townspeople began to arrive to take shelter. None were empty-handed; all seemed to be carrying what they could—food, clothes, chickens, some leading cows, others herding goats. It was as if the people knew what to do already. They’d been through it before, as had his father and many of the soldiers. They’d survived before and won, and Edyon had to believe they’d do it again.

  TASH

  DEMON TUNNELS

  TASH WAS running for her life again. This time from Brigantine soldiers and along her own tunnel through the demon world.

  Just keep going. Get to the surface and head south. Find the Pitorian army—that can’t be too hard, can it? Find Princess Catherine or Sir Ambrose or General Davyon or Rafyon or anyone who isn’t a Brigantine. And warn them that the first load of smoke has already gone, and they might be attacked any day.

  Tash stopped to listen but couldn’t hear anything behind her. Her tunnel was low and narrow—a huge advantage for her and a huge disadvantage for them.

  They won’t give up—they’re Brigantines. But I need to think about where I’m going.

  She put her hand on the stone walls of the tunnel, her tunnel.

  Perhaps I can use the smoke in me to help me find the others. If I think of them, maybe it will guide me to them, if they’re here.

  Right. So. Think of General Davyon.

  Tash thought of the general: grim face; serious eyes; glossy, gleaming blue hair.

  Nothing happened. The stone didn’t change.

  Right. So now think of Rafyon.

  Tash imagined Rafyon: handsome, broad-shouldered, and slim.

  Again, nothing happened.

  I’m losing my touch! Or they’re not on the Northern Plateau. Try again. Think of Geratan.

  Tash pictured him: smiling face, white hair tucked behind his ears.

  Immediately she felt the stone beneath her hand disappear. A new tunnel was forming. It’s working!

  The new tunnel continued to grow, branching off her old one.

  But I’m going to make sure this one is even smaller and more of a squeeze for those Brigantines behind me.

  Tash bent down so the tunnel was low, and smiled to think of the huge Brigantine soldiers trying to even walk through this new tunnel—they’d certainly not be able to run.

  Concentrate! Think of Geratan. Geratan. Geratan. Geratan. White hair. Calm face. Great dancer. Strong. Brave. Polite.

  And, as she thought of him, the tunnel opened faster and faster, until she was jogging along in her half-crouch. As she ran, the vision she had of Geratan began to sharpen, and she realized that his hair wasn’t white.

  Crimson! What’s that about?

  And she could see he was among other soldiers—all with the same colored hair. And Sir Ambrose was there. But not Davyon and not Rafyon.

  This is like the vision I had of Frost. The smoke is showing me my destination. I must be nearly there.

  And, at that thought, the tunnel turned sharply upward. Tash scrambled up the slope as it formed ahead of her, the air changed, and she took a breath of wonderfully cool air as she pulled herself out, back into the human world.

  It was night; the sky was full of stars and tall pine trees. And ahead was a small fire with figures sitting round it.

  And then someone grabbed her, pinning her arms to her side, a rough-skinned hand over her mouth. She could hardly breathe.

  “And what have we got here?”

  “Wee gahr shirring shirring shir!” Tash shouted, and kicked viciously at the man’s shins.

  “Bloody hell. She’s a wild one. Look at this, Geratan.”

  “Geraghaan!”

  “Don’t know what she’s—OW!”

  Tash shook her teeth out of the man’s hand and shouted, “Geratan!”

  “What’s going on? Silence!”

  It was Sir Ambrose’s voice, rushing toward her from the fire. And with him, Geratan.

  “It’s me, Tash!” she shouted, giving the man holding her another kick in the shins. He swore loudly but still didn’t let her go.

  “You can release her, Anlax.”

  “Gladly.”

  And the man dropped Tash, and she was in Geratan’s arms, being hugged. His smile was something to see.

  “You’re alive, Tash. You’re alive!”

  “Course I’m alive.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Tash sat by the fire with Geratan, Sir Ambrose, and his men—the Demon Troop, as she’d discovered they were called—and told them everything she’d done in the demon world. Some of it sounded daft even to her own ears, but by the way Geratan looked at her and nodded, she was reassured that he trusted everything she said was true. And if he believed it, then Sir Ambrose did. And if he believed it, then—well, the Demon Troop would too.

  She was just explaining how she’d made her way back to the surface when she remembered something.

  “Oh shits! The tunnel. The Brigantines will be coming!”

  “Anlax, take two men and keep watch outside the tunnel. If you hear or see anything, sound the alarm.” Anlax nodded and hurried off. “Thank you, Tash,” Ambrose continued. “Your information is incredibly valuable. So the Brigantines have shipped out some of their smoke but still have a lot stored down there. We need to destroy it, if we can.”

  “But I want to hear your story too,” said Tash. “What happened after Geratan and I got separated from you and the princess?”

  Sir Ambrose gave a weak smile. “I’ll tell you all our adventures properly when this is over, Tash, but I’m afraid there’s some bad news in them.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry, but Rafyon was killed. Not by demons, but by an assassin. He died saving Princess Catherine’s life.”

  Tash could feel the tears coming. She hated war. Hated how one moment her friends were alive and well and loving you, and the next moment, gone.

  “And everyone else?” she asked. “The princess?”

  “Alive and a queen now. Married to King Tzsayn.”

  “Queen, eh? And are you still her . . . what was it?”

  “Personal guard. No, I’m head of the Demon Troop now. Somehow I don’t think King Tzsayn is going to want me around.”

  “And you’ve been sent up here on a mission to kill the Brigantines and win back the demon world.” Tash pursed her lips. “Well, lucky for you I found you. I think I can help you with that . . .”

  AMBROSE

  NORTHERN PLATEAU, PITORIA

  AMBROSE WAS feeling positive again.

  Thanks to Tash, he had access to the demon world and a guide to show them the way to the smoke store. Armed with Tash’s information about the numbers of the Brigantines and the lack of demons, their chances of success had soared. Even with just fifty men, he felt he could take the central cavern. From there, they should be able to capture and destroy the smoke store. First, however, they had to deal with the Brigantines who would be coming along Tash’s tunnel.

  Ambrose said to Geratan, “If we meet them in the tunnel, some will escape and warn the others, and the element of surprise will be lost. We have to wait for them all to come out here, lay a trap for them; none can be allowed to return to the central cavern to warn of our presence.”

  He positioned the men in the trees su
rrounding the tunnel, making sure that the only footprints visible were Tash’s leading off to the south. Then they settled in to wait.

  They didn’t have to wait long, as just a few moments later, a long-haired Brigantine, covered in scratches and growling with anger, emerged from the tunnel. His sword wasn’t drawn, and he was clearly not considering he might be surrounded by Pitorian soldiers. Another Brigantine soldier appeared and more joined them. One began looking for tracks, easily finding Tash’s footprints. Soon the Brigantines had gathered together—eight in all—and Ambrose could hear the leader giving orders.

  “Hugo, you go back and inform the commander that the rest of us are following the girl. She can only be a short way ahead of us. We’ll be on her by the end of the day, now we’re out of that fucking tunnel.”

  Ambrose glanced over to Geratan and gave the signal to attack.

  It was brutal and swift. The Brigantines fought to the end, but the end came quickly. Only one of the Demon Troop was wounded, with a cut to his arm. While this was bandaged, Ambrose congratulated the troop on their first victory. But there was no time to waste. Now, finally, the real part of their mission was to begin.

  Ambrose knelt on the rim of the hollow, lowered his head, and pushed forward.

  He’d almost forgotten how hot it was in the demon world, how strange and red-tinted the light was. However, it was nothing like the demon hollow he’d been in before. There was no room to move. He could hardly fit his shoulders through Tash’s tunnel. He returned to the human world and asked Tash, “Any chance you can make the tunnel a bit bigger? Anlax has lost a bit of weight in the last few days, but he still won’t get his stomach through there.”

  “I’ll try,” Tash replied. “If I lead the way, I might be able to widen it as I go.”

  Ambrose followed her, curious to see what she did, expecting her to touch the tunnel walls, but she didn’t even need to do that. She spread her arms out wide and the stone walls retreated from them, and as she walked forward, the tunnel widened and the ceiling rose.

  Ambrose followed Tash and looked back to check that the rest of the Demon Troop was following. He felt a touch on the bare skin of his hand and heard Geratan’s voice in his mind:

  Everyone’s in.

  Their pace wasn’t fast—more of a stroll than a march—but it was quicker than trying to squeeze through a narrow tunnel. They walked on and on until the tunnel joined another. Ambrose touched Tash’s arm.

  What’s this?

  This is my original tunnel. If you go right here, it takes you back to the surface. The way to the left goes down to the central cavern. We’re probably about halfway there.

  That’s great, Tash. If you sense anything that feels wrong, stop and tell me.

  Ambrose sent the message back up the line to his men that they were halfway to the cavern. They proceeded slowly, Tash still widening the tunnel, but everyone was even more careful about not making a noise.

  After a time, Tash stopped and lowered her arms.

  Sorry. I’m just a bit tired. I’ve got to concentrate so hard.

  That’s fine, Tash. You’re doing brilliantly. Rest if you need to.

  Tash nodded and sat down. Ambrose looked back at his men. They too were resting, preparing themselves. They knew the fight wasn’t far ahead.

  When she was ready to move again, Ambrose and the Demon Troop rose as one and followed.

  Now Ambrose noticed a change in the light—it had a more purple glow. Surely it was coming from the central cavern.

  Tash grabbed Ambrose’s arm, her warning loud and clear.

  Brigantines! Guarding the way into the cavern.

  Ambrose nodded, his heart beating faster as he drew his dagger. Let me get past.

  Tash shook her head. There’s too many. Someone will raise the alarm. Back up and I’ll make a new tunnel so we can come out farther down.

  Everyone moved backward, calmly and silently. Tash set to work making a new tunnel that cut off to the right, then swerved to the left and opened up into the cavern. Ambrose wanted to laugh at how easy Tash made it seem. She checked left and right before dropping to her knees and crawling out onto the terrace. Ambrose followed, signaling the others to wait.

  Geratan had described the cavern to him, and Tash had told him the cavern was shrinking, but it still took Ambrose’s breath away. It was huge. The sides were covered with terraces—on the very highest one he spotted the red figure of a demon. Farther down, some Brigantines were guarding a few tunnel entrances, but others seemed to be relaxing. And in the center of it all was a deep hole with a column of purple smoke swirling out of it. The core.

  That’s changed again, Tash told him. There’s more smoke than before, and it’s moving faster. The demons are making it happen. Far below us, beneath the core, they’re throwing themselves back into the smoke. Making it bigger.

  The Brigantines don’t seem bothered by it, said Ambrose, looking at the relaxing guards.

  Tash wrinkled her nose contemptuously. The Brigantines just think they’re going to get more smoke, but I wonder where it’ll end.

  I don’t know, Tash. But I do know we have to destroy the smoke store if it’s still there. First, though, we need to mark this tunnel so we can find it again—it’s our way out.

  Tash nodded. I can maybe make it a slightly different shape. Give it a lopsided look?

  That’ll do fine. Then we need to get to the smoke store. Can you make a tunnel to it?

  Easy.

  Good. Five of my men will go with you and Geratan to destroy it.

  What are the rest of you going to be doing? Tash asked with a frown.

  Ambrose grinned. Causing chaos.

  CATHERINE

  ARMY CAMP, NORTHERN PITORIA

  Advantage must be exploited swiftly and decisively.

  War: The Art of Winning, M. Tatcher

  TZSAYN STILL wasn’t well enough to go to the war council, but he was well enough for the war council to come to him. The king sat in a comfortable chair, his bandaged stump covered by a blanket, while Catherine, Hanov, Davyon, and Lord Darby stood round the map table as Ffyn made his report.

  “For weeks the Brigantine invasion force has stayed put in their camps around Rossarb, but our spies have learned that Lord Thornlees and his men are in Brigant.” He looked at Lord Darby. “That’s two thousand men on foot and horse. They are heading for Calidor.”

  “Only Thornlees’s men?” Darby asked.

  “We believe it’s just his force that is on the move, and we’re sure that Aloysius is still in Rossarb. But it looks like the war is entering a new phase.”

  “I’ll send word immediately to Calidor,” Darby said.

  “Your message might not get there ahead of the Brigan-tines. I’m afraid the information is a little old,” Hanov said, looking miserable.

  “But at least the message will get through,” Ffyn added, picking up a model boat from the map. “The scullers have enabled us to break Brigantine control of the Pitorian Sea. Several of their ships have been picked off, and the threat of a naval invasion of Pitoria has been almost eliminated.”

  “Indeed,” Catherine said. “And now we need to put the scullers to their other use. We must attack the northern land route while Aloysius is still at Rossarb.”

  “A bold move,” Ffyn commented. “But risky. Aloysius will bring all his forces to bear against them.”

  “Not if he’s also being kept busy to the south,” Catherine replied. “The scullers will carry one force to the north shore of the Bay of Rossarb. These men are to take the forts and hold the road to prevent Aloysius from retreating. Meanwhile, the other prong of the attack is by land—the blue-hairs and white-hairs converging on Rossarb, one from the south, one from the east.”

  Tzsayn spoke now. “Queen Catherine’s white-hairs will travel north from here to the Ross River Roa
d before cutting west. Ffyn, you will go with that force and ensure that the queen is safe at all times. Davyon, you will lead my blue-hairs, who will advance from the south. You will coordinate your attack on Aloysius’s forces just outside Rossarb.”

  Davyon said, “What about the boy army? Any details about their location?”

  Hanov stepped in. “Information on the boys’ brigades is sparse, to say the least. They move quickly and with minimal support—no horses, no baggage, no camp followers—so tracking their location is almost impossible. However, we believe Prince Harold has taken overall command of them, and we believe he’s somewhere in the south of Brigant. I don’t know if all the boys are with him, but that would make sense.”

  Tzsayn nodded. “With Thornlees moving south, it looks like the Brigantines are intent on beginning an offensive, spearheaded by the boys’ brigades. If so, the attack has probably already begun—our information is days old.”

  “And yet the conquest of Calidor is so personal to Aloysius,” Darby said, “I can’t believe they would launch a serious offensive without him.”

  “Which is another reason why we must not delay our attack,” Catherine said. “We want my father trapped in the north. This is our chance. His forces are weaker for the loss of Thornlees and the boy army. But if they are able to con-quer Calidor and then reunite, we will be outnumbered again.”

  “You haven’t mentioned the mission to the demon world,” Hanov said.

  Catherine held her breath. It had been a week since Ambrose had set out. Every day she asked for news but so far there had been nothing.

  Davyon replied, “We didn’t expect to hear from them, but I have confidence that Sir Ambrose and his men will be doing whatever they can to stop production of the demon smoke.”