Chapter Eleven
The way to Hammerwall was choked with people. Families from the surrounding farms were desperately making their way to the Bastion, dragging all their worldly possessions behind them in wagons loaded to toppling. Children still dressed in their Hallowsphere finest stared numbly from bench seats, while their parents whispered in anxious tones. Those on foot muttered angrily each time the wagons pushed them aside.
“I don’t like this,” Mahk said. “A breach right after Hallowsphere? That’s supposed to be the safest time of the year.”
“Breaches can happen at any time,” Rae said.
“They can, but it’s not likely,” Mahk said. “I feel like a pig walking calmly to the slaughterhouse. They’ll pack us in, then pick us out of the herd.”
“Do you honestly think the justicars would blow the breach alarm just to catch three runaways?” La asked.
“I believe that as much as I believe a high mage would be looking for us in the first place,” Rae said. “But I think we can put that worry to rest.” He pointed to the south, toward Dwehlling. The far horizon was dark purple, and roiling clouds the color of fresh bruises reached up to the sky. The clouds were moving faster than mere wind would allow, churning and bright. “That’s not natural. It’s not Ordered. The breach is real.”
“Always thought it would come from the north, away from Fulcrum,” Mahk mumbled. The storm had caught the attention of the crowd. Worried mumbling rose up all around them, and the press forward became more desperate.
“Hammerwall is cut off from the rest of the Ordered World,” La said quietly. “Chaos in all directions. Could be that something about Dwehlling weakened the orderwall in that direction.”
“Dwehlling, or our friend,” Mahk said.
“Today is full of surprises, I guess,” Rae answered. His mind filled with memories of the breach at Hadroy House, and the sound the clouds made when they rushed toward his family. At least the distant storm was still silent. For now. “I don’t want to be stuck outside the Bastion when that thing gets to us.”
“Lotta people looking for shelter,” Mahk said, his shoulders hunched tight to his head. “Not a lotta room inside the Bastion.”
“The guards will make room. And that justicar is somewhere around here. He’ll know what to do,” La said. “Even if it means we’re all standing in the streets for two days, waiting for evacuation.”
“I heard stories about Briar Tower, when it fell,” Rae said. “That it took three weeks to get everyone out. And then—” A thunderous keening sound cut Rae off. A windship, its sails trimmed to the quick, tore over the tree line and careened toward Hammerwall. A storm boiled in the ’ship’s sails, turning the air crisp with static electricity as it passed overhead. The mages on board were trying to get down before the breach made the trip dangerous. The line of refugees flinched away from the sound, then watched hungrily as the ship disappeared behind the trees, leaving a stream of cumulus clouds in its wake. The clouds blossomed outward, rumbling with thunder.
“There aren’t going to be many more of those coming in,” La said.
“Sure there will,” Rae answered. “They’ve got to get us out somehow, don’t they?”
Mahk snorted and picked up the pace.
“So who’s this clever criminal we’re going to visit?” La asked as they marched. Her long legs kept easy pace with Mahk’s lumbering stride, but Rae was having trouble keeping up.
“Marcus Indrit. He was a court mage, before he fell in trouble with the Iron College. But he’s Fulcrum trained. If anyone can figure out why this blade is important, it’s him,” Rae answered, hugging the burlap-wrapped sword closer.
“Why do you keep carrying that thing around?” Mahk asked. “Why not just stow it in your soul, like all them other spiritbinders?”
“‘All them other spiritbinders’ have their souls imprinted on their blades. I just found this, and used it as best I could. When it comes time to make my own spiritblade—” Lalette interrupted him with a derisive snort. Rae soldiered on. “When I make my own spiritblade, I will have to start with a scrying of my soul. Which I have already done.”
“You what?” La exclaimed. Rae sniffed and ignored her. They walked in silence for a while before La returned to the conversation.
“This can’t be a coincidence, can it?” La asked. “Everything that’s happened, with . . .” She dropped her voice, suddenly realizing they were surrounded by very nervous farmers. “With the guy in the suit? And now a breach?”
“We’ll have time to worry about that once we’re inside,” Rae said.
The closer they got to Hammerwall Bastion, the more crowded the road became. Smaller paths flowed into the main road, bringing with them more farmers and merchants hurrying to get behind the protective walls of the Bastion before the breach reached their homesteads. Even with Mahk leading the way, it wasn’t long before the traffic was at a standstill. They were at the intersection with the main southern route that led to Dwehlling, and within sight of the gates of Hammerwall. But there was no way they were getting a single step closer. Bullhorns sounded from the gates, the words drowned out by the breach siren droning from inside the city. All the while, the tumultuous clouds of the chaosstorm were getting closer and closer.
“Gates are still open, and the wards haven’t spun up yet,” Rae said, pointing to the eight towers that overlooked the Bastion’s walls. Each tower was crowned by a whirling device that could invoke one of the realms, known as a ward. For now, the sigils hung still in the wind. “So that’s a good sign.”
“The gates are only so wide,” Mahk said. “And it won’t be long before people start trying to go over the wall.”
There was a buzz of movement at the front of the crowd, then a pair of lean windships rose from inside the Bastion. They were clippers, the open decks of their narrow hulls bristling with cannonades, and an iron-tipped ram at the prow. Their sails fanned open, catching the winds channeled by the crew of stormbinders. They shot south.
“There go the justicars,” Rae said. “Must be desperate if they’re leaving the Bastion.”
“What happens if they can’t contain the breach?” Mahk asked.
“I’d rather not think about that,” Rae said. He knew the kind of spiritbinders who got assigned to a place like Hammerwall—outcasts and zealots, mages whose talents wouldn’t be missed, if the orderwall fell. Fulcrum had already given up on this bastion years ago. “They’ll do what they can. And then it will be up to the Bastion walls, and Order’s mercy.”
Gunfire crackled to the south, followed by a wave of nervous murmuring from the crowd in that direction. Mahk straightened to his full height, looming head and shoulders over the rest of the crowd. He frowned.
“What’s going on?” Rae asked nervously.
“Hell hasn’t reached us yet,” Mahk said. “But something just as bad is nipping at our heels.”
Rae hopped onto the wheel of a nearby wagon, clambering up until he had a good view of the southern approach. The crowd they were a part of extended for another sixty yards or so, spreading out into a half dozen streams that followed the roads and more common trails. Beyond them, on the main southern road, another crowd was approaching.
No. More than a crowd. An army. Their ranks bristled with weapons and armor, a loose skirmish of rough-looking individuals carrying flintlock rifles in the van, and a cadre of mounted soldiers riding mismatched horses on one flank. The rest of the army carried makeshift polearms, rusty swords, or truncheons wrapped with barbed wire. A scattering of shots went into the air, plumes of smoke appearing like summoned spirits over their heads. A curl of howls rose up, like mad dogs catching the scent of their prey.
“What is it?” La asked.
“Unless I miss my guess, that’s the entire population of Dwehlling,” Rae said. “Come to take the Bastion, and our lives.”
A ripple of panic went through the crowd as people slowly realized what was happening to the south. The twin clippers were swooping back and forth over Dwehlling’s ragtag army, firing into the massed ranks. So the justicars aren’t handling the breach at all, Rae realized. An enfilade of return fire punctured the sails of one of the windships, shredding it into rags. The ’ship clawed its way into the sky, listing badly to one side, the bound Air elementals wrapped around the hull as the crew tried to get away from their attackers. The hull slowly keeled over as the damaged vessel corkscrewed into the forests to the south. It disappeared behind the trees. An explosion shook the ground a short time later, followed by a plume of released storm elementals from the anti-ballast, laced through with flames from the gunpowder stores.
That was the last straw. Panic gripped the crowd. They surged forward with a roar, stampeding toward the still-open gates of the Bastion. As soon as the guards realized what was happening, they abandoned any effort to check the credentials of those entering. Mothers carried children over their heads, husbands broke the ranks in front of them to make room for their families, and siblings clung to one another as the mob surged forward. Panicked horses shoved their way out of the melee, trampling anyone who got in their way. Rae and Lalette fell in behind Mahk. The big man was twice the bulwark they needed. They would have been crushed without him.
Lalette laced her fingers through Rae’s hand. Rae shot her a look, and was surprised that his sister looked less scared and more determined. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.
“It’s okay!” she shouted, her words nearly swallowed by the panicked screaming all around. “We’ll get inside.”
Rae returned the smile, but not the sentiment. There was no guarantee. People died in these situations. People were dying right now, not five feet away. He could hear the panic in their voices as they realized what was happening, that no one was going to stop to pick them up, to help them. Panic turning to pain, to maddened shrieks, to silence. It was happening right now. It could happen to them. He tightened his grip on La with one hand, and grabbed Mahk’s coat with the other. Mahk pushed his way forward an inch at a time. The pace was painfully slow. And then it was slower. And then they stopped, the crowd backing up at the gate while the masses behind them kept shoving forward. Rae pulled La close, tucking her between himself and Mahk, but the crowds kept pushing. They were crushed against the big man’s back. For a second, Rae worried about falling down and being trampled, but then he realized he couldn’t have fallen if he wanted to. His legs could have been cut out from under him and the press of bodies would have kept him in place.
“Mahk!” Rae shouted. “We have to do something!”
“I’m open to ideas,” he answered.
Lalette tried to say something, but it came out as a squeak, and then she was struggling to breathe at all. He could feel her ribs pulsing as she tried to force air into her lungs. Her mouth hung open like a fish out of water. Her eyes started to flutter.
The eight wards on top of the wall started to spin and groan with power. Lightning bristled from the wards as they got up to speed. Reality bent around them. Rae could feel it in his soul, could feel the barrier slithering over the walls as the Bastion sealed shut. There wasn’t a lot of time left. Engines roared and metal shrieked as the gate started clanking shut. A scream went up from the crowd, but no one could move.
“They’re spinning up the wards!” Mahk shouted.
“I know,” Rae answered. The storm mote stitched into his soul started to vibrate through him. What would happen if he died here, if the storm mote tore free in the middle of this crowd? A quicker death for some. Could he do something with it? Could he save himself, and La, and Mahk? Did he have that much power?
Probably not. But he had to try.
Rae held the sword over his head, still swaddled in blood-splattered burlap. He closed his eyes and tried to still his mind. It was difficult, in the middle of being crushed to death, but he reminded himself that justicars learned to channel their spirits through pain and distraction, so they would be able to keep control even if wounded in battle. Maybe the pain sharpened their focus. He tried, leaning in to the pain, letting it wrap around his mind. The storm spirit responded, twining itself through his attention, almost calling him to it. Beneath the rough texture of the burlap, the sword grew warm in Rae’s hands.
Maybe it was their proximity to the orderwall, or the influx of Chaos that, somewhere in the steading, was pouring through the breach. Maybe it was Rae’s talent, noted by the renegade Mister Indrit. Or maybe something had shaken loose from Rae’s heart with the death of his parents, some kind of raw power that he had never tapped before. Whatever the source, a surge of primal energy coursed through Rae’s soul. The elemental mote sang with such force that Rae was sure it would burn straight through his skin.
He started to scream. His voice became the keening storm, crackling with lightning. The crowd around him pressed back, the frightened faces of farmers and merchants suddenly turned to the danger in their midst.
“Demon! Demon!” someone shouted, spreading the panic. Screams filled the air, drowning out the sound of Rae’s channeling. A shot rang out, then another, then an enfilade from the Bastion walls, trained at the crowd below. Bullets ripped through the air near them. Rae struggled to regain control of the elemental, but it was tearing through him, shaking him, pushing against the bounds of his soul.
Lalette slapped him full in the face. Rae went down, and the spirit went with him. The storm broke. The crowd’s panic, though, did not.
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Mahk said. He reached down and lifted Rae off the ground, setting him on shaky feet. “But it’s done the trick.”
The crowd was scattering. The musketeers on the wall were turning their attention to the approaching force from Dwehlling, and the guards at the gate were ushering in the nearest refugees, even as they cranked the gate closed.
“Quickly,” La snapped, dragging at Rae’s arm. “Before they seal the gate.”
“I don’t know that I can make—OOF!” Rae’s breath left him as Mahk scooped him up like a sack of potatoes and threw him over one shoulder. The ground rushed past, each step a breath-wrenching jab in the ribs. Rae craned his neck around and saw that Lalette was already to the gate, and arguing with the guard to hold it open a few seconds more. The guard pushed her aside and was about to slam the gate when a voice came down from the wall.
“It’s alright, Haeftenant,” the voice called, booming with authority. “Let them through.”
“Thank the gods,” Mahk said, out of breath. He slung Rae down, carefully setting him on his feet.
“Well, be quick about it,” the guard said glumly. He stood aside, leaving just enough space for them to squeeze through.
“Thank you, sir!” La shouted, waving up to the wall. Their benefactor was nothing more than a shadow at first.
“Yeah, thanks,” Rae said, craning his neck to see who had commanded their salvation.
The shadow shifted. Rae froze in place.
Up on the wall, the high mage nodded his approval, then disappeared. The light of the sun flickered off his isolation suit. The others hadn’t seen him. Only Rae.
“You coming or not?” the guard asked.
“Yes, yes,” La said. She grabbed Rae’s hand and pulled him through the gate. He tried to protest, but the shock took his voice. Mahk hustled in after them.
As soon as they were inside, the guard threw the wheel and cycled the gate. The heavy door swung the last few feet, latching with a boom that shook the ground. They were safe, inside the Bastion, protected from the breach.
And locked in with the man who had killed their parents.