Keir looked away in shame. She had meant her words to make him feel better, but they had left him humiliated. To her he was just a frightened boy, and her low expectations had been met. He had never felt so alone, and longed to run back to Madden’s Tower to see Kelsey; but what could he possibly say to her to explain himself? He imagined the disappointment on her face, then realised it was nothing compared to how his father would have looked at him.
‘Shit,’ said the sergeant, throwing her half-smoked cigarette to the ground. ‘Here they come.’
She pointed to their left where a thick wedge of Rahain, their shields locked together, had rammed through the imperial lines. The gap was widening, as troopers on either side began to retreat down to the ruins of the Outer City, holding their formations as the Rahain poured through. Whistles blew, and the imperials started to withdraw from a long section of the rampart, between the ruined stumps of two old wall towers. That section included the area directly in front of where Keir and the sergeant were standing, and their position on the upper floor gave them a full view of the collapsing front. Troopers raced down the face of the rampart, re-forming in the street at the bottom, then pulling back in lines into the warren of devastated roads.
The sergeant lifted a crossbow to her shoulder and loosed into the advancing mass of Rahain.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I need to get you out of here.’
‘Aren’t you going to join the battle?’
‘I’ve been ordered to protect you with my life,’ she said, ‘by the general, and by the governor. I don’t know who you are, but your arse is deemed valuable.’
‘I’m a Holdfast.’
She shrugged. ‘Means fuck all to me.’ She gestured to the stairs. ‘Stay close.’
Keir followed her to the top of the steps as a loud rumble echoed across the sky. A flash caught his eyes, and he glanced up to see a bolt of lightning over the Inner Sea. The wind picked up, blowing through his dark hair.
Troopers were occupying the ground floor of the tenement when they descended the stairs, and some squeezed past them on their way to the upper floor. An officer was standing by the door as the troopers loaded their crossbows and checked each other’s bloodstained equipment. The sergeant led Keir through them to the entrance and past the officer, who paid them no attention. Out on the street, several units of imperial soldiers were getting into position behind low ruined walls, or by the corners of buildings. To their right, the Rahain were re-forming at the bottom of the rampart, getting ready to renew their advance.
Keir stared at the long row of shields, held by thousands of Rahain, and only fifty yards away. The sergeant yanked his arm, pulling him along.
‘Might be best if we run,’ she said, but his legs felt like lead.
She pushed him down the street as his mind went blank with fear, his feet almost tripping over the piles of rubble.
A great roar of voices cried out behind him, and the Rahain charged in the darkness. Keir looked for the sunrise, but thick, black clouds were covering the town. The first drops of rain hit the dry ground and Keir began to run, the sergeant urging him along as the street behind them became a battlefield. They reached a corner and ran into a roadblock, where carts and wagons had been over-turned, and were blocking the street. The sergeant swore, and they raced to the left. They ran down a narrow lane, ruined walls on either side, then emerged into a wider lane, where a mass of Rahain were advancing. Their led units turned, seeing them. The sergeant covered Keir with her shield as they skidded to a halt. A bolt flew past Keir’s face as they retreated back down the alleyway, Rahain soldiers in pursuit.
The rain grew heavier, disturbing a layer of dust that had lain untouched for thirds. Streams of water ran down the lane as the downpour became torrential. The sergeant shoved Keir through a entranceway and into the ruins of a small courtyard. She hauled him down behind a wall, a finger to his lips for silence.
Thunder rumbled, drowning out the sound of the Rahain soldiers’ boots as they fanned out down the alleyway. Keir remained still, hardly daring to breathe. He listened for the soldiers, helpless and terrified. They were going to catch him, and he was going to die.
It wasn’t fair.
To be killed in the ruins of Rainsby, was that to be his fate? He rankled at the injustice of it. Wasn’t he meant for greater things? His father had been a hero, and so too his mother, who was now one of the most powerful leaders in the world. And his aunt, Keira? Was it to her that he owed his fire powers? Yes, he thought. His fire powers were from her, and his vision powers were from his mother.
His vision powers?
He had been so panicked and fearful about using his fire powers, he had almost forgotten what else he could do. He glanced around in the gloom, and caught sight of the remains of a tower. Its upper floors were gone, but some vertical struts remained in place, and he visioned out to one, feeling a release of energy and joy as his sight leaped the distance in an instant. He gazed down at the long alleyway where they were hiding. Rahain soldiers were about halfway along, searching the apartments to either side. A swathe of the Outer City was visible from his vantage point, and he took in the positions of the advancing Rahain army. More were continuing to stream over the rampart, while pockets of imperial troopers were harassing them on each side as they steadily pulled back.
He pulled his sight back to his body and nudged the sergeant. ‘I’m a vision mage too.’
She stared at him. ‘Quiet. Wait, what?’
‘The Rahain are only halfway down the alley,’ he said, ‘if we get over that wall ahead, we’ll lose them.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You saw that?’
‘I did.’
‘But I don’t understand. You have fire and vision powers? Is that possible?’
‘I’m probably the only person in the world with both. I’m half-Kellach, half-Holdings.’
‘Shit,’ she grinned. ‘We might just get out of this. Alright, which way?’
‘Let me check again. I want to work out a clear route for us to take.’
He glanced back up at the high wooden strut and sent his vision across to it just as a flash of lightning burst from the sky. Keir gazed out from the end of the strut as the tip of the lightning bolt hit it, and his vision was enveloped in a blinding explosion of white light. He sensed his body topple to the ground, his limbs shaking, as his vision seemed to entwine with the lightning for an instant; as if he were joined to it in a painful ecstasy. His fire powers woke, feeding off the energy, and combining with his vision to create something else.
The lightning flash dissipated, and Keir’s vision snapped back to his body. At once, the trembling ceased, and he felt renewed, as if the energy of the storm had penetrated his being. He opened his eyes and gazed up into the sky, where dark storm clouds were circling, the heavy rain falling into his face. He thought of his parents, fire and vision, and smiled. He was going to make them proud.
‘Are you alright?’ whispered the sergeant, her hand on his shoulder.
He sat up. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Ready?’ she said. ‘For what?’
‘I need to get somewhere high, from where I can see the town.’
‘I thought you could see with your vision powers?’
‘It’ll be easier if I have a clear view.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Come and watch,’ he said, and got to his feet. He sent his vision across to a ruined building and checked the way was clear, then ran, vaulting over a low wall, the sergeant a pace behind him. He glanced around. The tower where the lightning had struck was still the highest structure in the area, despite the upper floors having long been demolished. He ran along the rain-soaked street towards it, using his vision to watch out for the Rahain.
They reached the base of the tower and began to climb, Keir’s clothes sodden and heavy. He went through a broken hatch and emerged onto an intact wooden floor. Ruined walls ringed the surface like broken teeth, and Keir gazed at the view, the
rain pelting down onto him and the sergeant as she climbed up through the hatch to join him.
Around them sprawled the devastated suburbs of the Outer City, swarming with thousands of Rahain soldiers who were pressing ever closer to the walls of the Old Town. In the distance, the rampart was alive with movement, as more soldiers continued to join the attack. Most of the imperial stone-throwers had fallen silent, their positions turned by the surge of Rahain. The torrential rain had turned the muck and grime into a thick mud, which was sticking to the soldiers as they fought in the narrow streets. Lightning was flashing on the hills to the left and right of Rainsby. A bolt hit the Old Town behind them, brightening the sky for an instant.
Keir raised his arms.
His vision rose up to meet the storm cloud, its energy sizzling in his presence. He relaxed, feeling the currents of the storm surge and boil around him. He drew on its power, and it responded.
A ferocious lightning bolt flashed down, Keir’s thoughts guiding it, his will pulling down the might of the storm. He aimed for the far side of the rampart and, starting at one end, he threw the lightning down. It struck the massed lines of advancing Rahain in an explosion that blew a deep crater into the earth. Keir drew into the storm for more, and the bolt stretched into a vast sheet, racing across the length of the valley, obliterating everything in its path from end to end.
Keir pulled his power back, and staggered.
The sergeant took his arm, steadying him. ‘That couldn’t have been… was it?’
Keir gasped, letting out a gargled cry. The sergeant passed him a flask and he took a drink, his throat burning from the whisky.
‘That was incredible,’ she said, rain running down her face, ‘but there’s plenty more.’
He nodded, and took another swig, smiling. Controlling lightning was a better feeling than anything he had experienced before. His nerves were tingling all over, as if part of the lightning had remained with him.
He lifted his arms again, and summoned the storm from where he stood. Clustered forks of lightning burst from the sky, Keir’s senses directing them where he willed. He sought out the largest concentrations of Rahain soldiers, and commanded the storm to strike. All over the Outer City the bolts of lightning came down upon the Rahain, incinerating many, and setting dozens of others alight. Keir lowered his focus onto the several small fires that he had ignited. Using his vision powers to enter the flames, he found he could control fire well beyond his normal range, further than any fire mage in the past. He gathered the flames into vast balls and rolled them down the streets, burning the massed Rahain to ashes. He moved from fire to fire, sending each on their way, pushing the fleeing Rahain back from the Old Town and towards the rampart. The remaining imperial troops rallied, rooting out the few survivors of the fires that had incinerated their comrades. Keir watched the Rahain flee, and increased the speed of the fire balls, pushing smaller shoots of flame down the side streets and alleys to ensure that none escaped. By the base of the rampart, thousands of Rahain were struggling to flee, slipping in the thick mud that the rain had created. The fireballs fizzled out as they reached the open space before the rampart, so Keir reached back up into the storm, drawing again on its power, building it like a coil under tension, then unleashed it onto the fleeing soldiers. A sheet of lightning struck them, burning up hundreds as they pressed together in the mud, and leaving scattered survivors to crawl up the long slope of the rampart to safety.
Keir lowered his arms.
The storm began to disperse, as if he had used up all of its energy, and a faint glimmer of sunlight peered over the eastern horizon. The rain had extinguished most of the fires, leaving wide trails of thick, sodden ash and charred bones down the main roads of the Outer City. By the base of the rampart was a black, smouldering mass of burnt bodies, heaped up in the mud.
Keir swayed as a ray of sunlight struck the tower where they stood. He glanced down, and saw a few groups of imperial soldiers, advancing back towards the rampart.
His energy vanished in an instant, and a sudden exhaustion dropped him to the ground.
He was awoken by the roar of a crowd. He was rocking from side to side on a stretcher, carried by imperial troopers. Ahead, the great gates of the Old Town were open, and he was being cheered through by thousands of imperial soldiers, waving, and raising their weapons to salute him. The street was packed, as were the battlements of the old walls to either side of the gate, and the gatehouse itself.
Sergeant Demi glanced down at him as she walked alongside the stretcher.
‘Well, well,’ she said. ‘The saviour of Rainsby awakens. I thought you were going to be out for days.’
He squinted from the dawn light and gazed around. ‘What’s happening?’
She laughed. ‘What do you think? You saved the city; you’re a fucking hero.’
Keir smiled. He liked the sound of that.
Chapter 29
The Rightful Owners
Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 9th Day, Second Third Summer 525
‘As much I respect your opinion, Agatha,’ said a voice, ‘I still believe it would be prudent to kill her.’
Karalyn opened her eyes, but could see nothing, feeling a rough blindfold covering her face. She was sitting, her arms tied behind her back.
‘We will, I assure you, Witten,’ a woman’s voice replied, ‘in our own good time. First, we need to learn who, or what, she is. My powers include the ability to see into the mind of every being on the Star Continent, yet I am blind to her thoughts. The mage skills she possesses are powerful enough to get her all the way into the Senate without us noticing, yet we cannot see or understand what those skills are, or whence they came. She should not exist, but here she sits. According to Gregor’s last report, she has siblings who also have powers. To rule, we need to destroy them all, and so, we need to understand them.’
‘As you will, ma’am,’ the male voice said. ‘You know best.’
‘Indeed,’ said Agatha, a smile in her voice, ‘which is why I was elected our leader.’
Scared as she was, Karalyn had to suppress a smile. Her two captors appeared to believe that, like vision mages, she needed her sight to be able to use her powers. She closed her eyes and allowed her dream vision to rise up from her, taking in the room where she was being held. It was the same chamber where they had found the Quadrant, which she noticed had been placed back on its wall-hooks. Half a dozen soldiers were standing by the door and walls, all aiming their crossbows at the three bound captives: her, Ravi, and Kerri. The two Rakanese were still asleep, their chins lowered against their chests. Karalyn stole into Ravi’s mind. He was in a dreamless state, and she went into his memories and wiped them clean of any hint of her mage powers. He would vaguely remember being rescued by her, but would have no idea how. She also fortified his spirit, by repeating how brave he was into his subconscious; telling him he was also resourceful, clever and fearless.
She skipped over into Kerri’s mind, and was plunged into a grey, forlorn wilderness, the wind blowing dust over the barren and broken ground. Dark clouds covered the skies, and in the gloom, she saw dream-Kerri standing alone, gazing into the distance.
There was nothing Karalyn could do about dullweed addiction, but she comforted Kerri as she dreamed, whispering words of home and safety, and telling her to be without fear; and to remember she was strong.
Karalyn withdrew from Kerri’s head and examined their captors. Agatha was still talking, while Witten was nodding by her side. She approached their eyes, and found them shielded, as she had suspected they would be. They were using the same, thin eye coverings worn by Belinda and the man who had killed Laodoc. Was he the Gregor that Agatha had mentioned? That made four; were there others?
‘It’s time,’ said Agatha. ‘Wake her.’
Karalyn watched from above as the man stepped forward and slapped her face. In her dream-vision state, she felt it as a soft touch somewhere in her consciousness, but knew it would hurt when she returned
to her body.
‘If you can hear me, respond,’ said the man, peering at her.
Karalyn went back into her mind, but left an echo of her powers in the room, so she could sense when anyone moved. She raised her hand a few inches.
‘Good,’ said Witten. ‘Can you talk?’
‘Aye.’
‘Alright. First question; how did you get in here unobserved?’
‘I can’t remember.’
Witten glanced at Agatha, and she nodded. Karalyn felt the back of Witten’s hand strike her cheek, and she gasped in pain, realising for the first time the predicament she was in. Her dream powers couldn’t stop them from torturing and killing her. If it got too bad, she knew she would be able to retreat out of herself, to a place where she would feel no pain, but that would be a last resort, something she might consider if close to death.
‘Don’t lie to us,’ said Agatha. ‘If I raise my finger, then every soldier in this room will loose their crossbow at you. You have no healing powers; you will die.’
‘Why don’t you tell me who you are?’ said Karalyn. ‘It’s you who doesn’t belong here, not I.’
‘This is our world, you fool,’ said Witten. ‘Made for us.’
‘Tell her nothing,’ said Agatha. ‘She seems to be confused as to which of us is the captor, and which the prisoner. Speak, Holdfast. Describe your powers.’
Karalyn said nothing. If she was going to die anyway, then she would remain silent. Better still, she thought, she could rile them.
The Magelands Epic: Storm Mage (Book 6) Page 41
