Hurricane

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Hurricane Page 10

by Michael Wisehart


  The debris that had been raining down from the second floor windows had ceased. The brunt of the battle was now in the streets, and Hurricane was not winning. Not by a long shot. If we didn’t do something now, there wasn’t going to be anyone left to save. I hoped Reevie was keeping himself hidden and hadn’t decided to play the hero and come look for me.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “The only thing we can do.” I raised my hands to my mouth and shouted. “Retreat!”

  My shout only added to the chaos. Our beaters were surrounded and outnumbered. If they were going to have any chance of escape they were going to need a distraction.

  Another vision hit and I grabbed Sapphire and yanked her to the side as a large chunk of rock from one of the windows smashed into the street where we had been standing.

  Sapphire looked up at the windows. “How did you—”

  My magic warned again and I ducked to the side as a thick piece of wood just missed my head. I spun around and cut the kid’s stick in half with my sword.

  “I’m on your side, you imbecile! Can’t you see the armband?” I pointed frantically at the blue piece of material on my right arm. Blood was flowing down both sides of the boy’s face. I recognized him. It was one of the kids who had complained about not getting to the armory in time.

  There was no time to wait. I grabbed him by the shoulders. “Fall back! And take as many with you as you can.” I turned to Sapphire. “Force them back. They’ll listen to you.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Something stupid.” I pushed the wounded kid into Sapphire’s arms. “Now get them out of here.” She started yelling out orders when another vision struck and I leapt to the side. A sword came down just inches from my left ear. I spun and ducked under the butt end of a spear. There were three of them. A single swipe from my blade and I opened the tendons on the back of the first boy’s leg. He dropped his sword and rolled on the ground clutching his bleeding calf. The girl with the spear moved back to keep out of range of my sword.

  The third had a long chain that allowed him to attack from a distance. Having already seen it coming, I stepped to the side and it clanged harmlessly against the street. I grabbed the loose end before he could retrieve it and jerked him forward. He stumbled into the path of the girl’s spear as she swung for my head. The wood caught him in the mouth and sent him tumbling. I flung the chain around her legs and pulled. She hit the cobble, and I could hear her breath wheeze from her lungs.

  More Avalanche fighters were on their way, so I grabbed one of the downed kid’s white armbands and made a run for it. As dark as it was, it wasn’t hard to disappear within the shadows, especially when I was heading away from the battle and not towards it. I replaced my blue armband with the white one and headed toward the Avalanche compound.

  It’s amazing what a simple arm band and a barely lit night could accomplish. Those members of Avalanche I passed never gave me a second look.

  The street ended just in front of the compound. It was too well lit and guarded for me to attempt a direct assault there, so I scanned the last buildings on the street and found a clothesline hanging low enough to reach. I fished a small tinder box from my trousers, one I had found lying around Reevie’s healing quarters during our packing. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, but what choice did I have? I looked around one last time, but no one was paying attention. I struck the flint and watched the sparks ignite one of the tunics. With the warm breeze, it didn’t take long for the fire to spread.

  I left the growing blaze and ran toward the battle. As soon as I came within shouting distance, I raised my arm with its white band and started yelling at the top of my lungs. “Fire! Fire! Avalanche fall back! Fire!”

  Those beaters close enough to hear me turned. One look at the fire and they joined in the shouting. Pretty soon, the entire Avalanche force was in a panicked retreat, all thoughts of wiping out their enemies replaced by the desperate need to stop the spread of the flames. By now, all the garments between the two buildings had ignited and the fire was quickly spreading toward the buildings themselves. Smoke filled the street.

  I moved to the side of the street to get out of the way of the stampede, tripping over bodies as I went. I didn’t have time to check on the injured. I needed to get back to Reevie.

  The wind coming in off the bay forced smoke up the street after me. I couldn’t believe how fast the fire had spread. I could barely see where I was going. By the time I finally found the stack of crates where I had hidden Reevie, my eyes were burning and my lungs ached.

  Reevie jumped out and tossed an open bottle of something at me. My magic kicked in and I dodged the flying projectile. I heard the bottle bust on the street and the strong smell of ether joined the overpowering smell of smoke.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” I asked, getting ready to duck in case he decided to hurl anything else.

  “You came back,” he said, coughing through the smoke. “I thought you were one of them.” He handed me two of the medical packs, and then slung the third over his shoulder. “We need to get out of here.” Reevie had tied some of the cloth bandages around his face to cover his nose and mouth, using them as a filter for the fumes.

  I grabbed a bandage from one of the bags and did the same. “No need to tell me twice.”

  I put my arm around him and we hurried down the side of Barrel Street, stumbling as we went. I was glad Reevie was there to tell me where to go. If it had been up to me, I’d never have found my way out. I could see why they called it the Maze.

  Even with Reevie’s limp, it didn’t take us long to catch up with the rest of Hurricane. With that many wounded and frightened kids trying to get from one side of Cheapside to the other, it was going to be slow. Many needed immediate attention.

  Sapphire had managed to get most of Hurricane’s remaining beaters out before the patrollers arrived. They had taken a slightly different route, but we met them in a small deserted part south west of the compound. With Sapphire’s help, we organized a couple of healing stations underneath the street lamps for the most severe–those that wouldn’t last the journey back to the Temple otherwise. There were some that wouldn’t make it back no matter what we did.

  It was nearly morning when the Temple’s gates came into view. By then, the stars had winked out of existence and the sky had shifted from black to dull grey. The Watchers on the wall didn’t bother with the password. One look at Sapphire’s face and the gates swung open.

  Spats, and what was left of the Guard, had made it back without incident. Before heading for his sleeping quarters, Spats had ordered a double watch posted. He didn’t care if they had to wake the cleaners and the kitchen staff to do it, which explained why Cook’s blurry-eyed face was the one to greet us on our arrival.

  Our return was anything but triumphant. Those still carrying weapons drug them behind as they passed through. Many had dropped or discarded theirs along the way. It was a clear trail of breadcrumbs. If there was ever to be an investigation into tonight’s events, it would certainly lead them to the gates of the Temple.

  Reevie commandeered the dining hall for triage since it was the largest room available. The little healer barked out orders, and those of us who were still capable of standing on our own jumped to obey, laying out sheets and blankets for the wounded.

  We stripped the clothing from injuries and organized the kids into sections, putting the most serious near the front. By the time Reevie had made a single pass of every patient to determine their status, dawn had come and gone and Cook was busy lighting up the hearth.

  The cries and groans from those who weren’t going to make it, or at the very least were going to lose a limb or two, was heartbreaking. What had it all been for, I wondered. Were a few stolen items from a warehouse really worth all of this? I wondered what the repercussions would be. Anyone capable of pulling off tonight’s decimating ruse was hardly someone to let this attack go unanswered.

 
Nearly a week had passed since our battle with Avalanche. Life at the Temple was slowly returning to normal. At least, what could be considered normal with half your tribe out of commission. Some of those left behind in the battle had found their way back the next day. Most of these had been knocked unconscious prior to our retreat. All of them had severe cases of smoke inhalation.

  I organized rescue parties to return for all the others we had been forced to leave behind. I led an army of stretchers and hand carts back to the battlefield. Apparently, there was some unspoken rule by the Guild that allowed for safe retrieval of the dead and wounded. Breaking that rule, according to Reevie, would incur the wrath of the other tribes.

  The worst of the injured beaters had either died or were slowly fighting their way back under Reevie’s constant supervision. Those with amputations or deep wounds were looking at a long, painful road ahead of them. But as long as the pickers were able to keep us stocked with medicinal supplies, they stood a good chance of recovering. Many would never be able to hold a weapon again. They would mostly likely be reassigned to a position on the watch or the cleaners.

  Avalanche had managed to contain the fire to a single building. The two upper floors were gone and the lower ones had enough structural damage that they weren’t worth salvaging. I was thankful the fire hadn’t spread to other sections of Cheapside. I don’t think I could have lived with myself if any of the surrounding neighborhoods had been caught in the blaze.

  Sapphire helped where she could, which was usually at night or her meal breaks. Ever since his humiliating defeat, Spats had demanded that the Guard be on continuous watch. I don’t even think he went to the privy without one of them to wipe his backside.

  By the time Seconday rolled around, I was going stir crazy. I knew Reevie wouldn’t leave his patients but I needed to get outside the walls. I told him I was going to go check in on Master Fentin and Mistress Orilla. It had been a few weeks since I had been by the shop, and the thought of one of Mistress Orilla’s mystery-meat sandwiches had my legs moving with a little extra zeal as I headed for the front gate.

  “Ayrion. Ayrion,” someone called. They seemed anxious. I ignored them, watching the gate, willing the heavy crossbeam to move faster. If I didn’t turn around, maybe they wouldn’t see me. The large metal doors creaked open, a sliver of freedom showing from the other side. I could almost taste the bread and cheese melting in my mouth. Hurry up and open the flaming gate!

  “Ayrion!”

  “He’s over here,” one of the watchers on the wall shouted. I cursed. If I’d had a rock within reach, he wouldn’t have been up there much longer.

  “There you are.”

  I took a deep, irritated breath and forced myself to loosen my clenched fists and turned around. One of the cleaners was running toward me. She was tiny and had a white sheet tied around her waist. It hung all the way to her feet, and was stained from where she’d been kneeling on it to scrub the floors. Her smudged hands and face matched the apron. She tripped on it halfway across the yard and fell face first into the dirt. Served her right for cutting off my escape.

  I released the breath I’d been holding and tried not to look like I wanted to choke her as she dusted herself off. Maybe whatever she needed wasn’t anything serious. Maybe Reevie wanted me to bring him back a sandwich.

  “Spats wants to see you.”

  I groaned, not bothering to hide my displeasure. She had hardly finished speaking before she was off again. It was a good thing too, because I nearly changed my mind about the choking.

  What could Spats possibly need to see me about? If he wanted to know about the beater’s progress he could just ask Reevie. After Spats’ cowardly behavior on the battlefield, I wasn’t sure if I wouldn’t choke the life out of him when I saw him. I’d be doing the entire tribe a favor if I did. But if I tried to kill Spats, that would cause a lot of problems for Reevie. He was the one who had sponsored my entrance. I grumbled and forced down my desire to disfigure ol’ Weasel Face.

  The gate boomed shut behind me and the crossbar dropped back into place with a thud. I was doomed to waste away inside these walls. With slumped shoulders, I made my way to the main building. I still couldn’t figure out why anyone was listening to a single word that waste-of-breath had to say. Had the entire tribe lost the ability to think for themselves?

  My stomach growled its complaint at having been denied its sandwich as I waited outside Spats’ office. The same two boys were standing in front, blocking my way. They weren’t sneering as they had before. They simply stood there staring at the wall in front of them.

  I felt queasy. My goal of just keeping my head down and staying out of people’s way had been destroyed during the battle. I had no idea what Spats wanted, but hoped it was just an update on the injured.

  His door opened and Sapphire was there to greet me. Her bright blue eyes were kind, but determined.

  “Are you just going to stand there?” Spats called out from the other side of the room. “Come in, and close the door behind you.” He sounded eager, which was worrisome. The two guards didn’t bother following me inside.

  The chief’s study was in shambles. There were papers scattered everywhere, weapons within quick reach from any location in the room, and even a large cot at the back. This looked to be a case of full-blown paranoia. How was he going to lead an entire tribe when he could barely lead himself from one side of his study to the other?

  Around the perimeter of the room, a couple members of the Guard stood watch. I felt like a prisoner on trial, with my executioners just waiting for the signal. I started running through scenarios in my head of how I was going to fight my way out in case Spats had decided I was too much of a risk to have around.

  “I’ve never done this before,” Spats said in his annoyingly high-pitched voice. He stood next to his desk, solemn, like a judge about to pass sentence. His arms were folded. He had a short sword strapped to one hip and a dagger on the other. After the battle we’d just survived, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a brace of knives tucked into his boots and a hatchet sticking out the back of his long underwear.

  “I don’t think any chief has done this before.”

  Spats’ pronouncement did little to calm my nerves. My palms started to sweat. I glanced at the Guard. They were armed to the teeth. I looked to see how close their hands were to their weapons, trying to determine whether their bodies were relaxed or tense, ready for action. Attempting to fight my way back to the door would be a mistake. My best chance would be grabbing Spats. I could probably use him as leverage to get myself outside the Temple’s gates.

  Spats opened a large chest in front of his desk, his back to me, blocking my view. Sure enough there was a handle to some sort of weapon sticking out of his trousers. I tried shifting to my other foot to see what he was rummaging for, but it didn’t help.

  I hadn’t received any visions of warning, but my magic had failed me before, during my melee with Red and her tribe. My fingers inched toward the knife in my jerkin when Spats turned and threw a piece of heavy black material at me. I ducked and the guard behind me caught the material in the face. He growled but handed the object to me.

  There was a wide, almost mischievous, grin on Spats’ face as I held up the material. I opened it all the way to get a better idea of what I was looking at. It was a roughly made piece of black leather with a hole on either side. Slowly it dawned on me that the item I was holding was a vest.

  Sapphire was beaming.

  “I don’t understand,” I said as I lowered the vest.

  “You’re getting promoted, you buffoon,” Spats said, looking a little perplexed at my lack of enthusiasm. “I just made you one of the Guard, and without having gone through the Soren Challenge no less.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I had no idea what he was talking about. I’d never heard of the Soren Challenge.

  Spats waited for my excitement to kick in, but it never came. “It’s a great honor,” he continued, as if feeling
the need to explain his actions. “Every kid out there dreams of being on the Guard, and I’m just handing it to you.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Spats said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He fingered his chin. “Hmmm, let me think.” He fingered his chin. “Maybe because you single handedly took out a dozen Avalanche beaters without them landing a single blow. I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.” Spats raised his arms and acted out a mock battle. “You were like, hah, take that, and that. And then you punched left and kicked right and flew over our heads like some crazy winged monkey. No one even came close to laying a hand on you. It was like . . . like . . .” Spats stared at me with a curious look and then waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, never mind.”

  I knew what he was about to say. It was like magic.

  I’d really done it this time. I gripped the leather considered the ramifications of my lack of forethought. I should have just let Avalanche have them. I probably would have if it hadn’t been for Sapphire, who was standing there with an even bigger smile on her face than Spats, if that was possible. She even had the audacity to wink at me.

  “You’re my new good luck charm,” Spats said. “And I have the perfect way to test you out. The Guild has called an assembly. You and Sapphire are going with me.”

  I offered a half-hearted smile. “Lucky me.”

  “Yes, I thought you’d like that.” Spats apparently couldn’t tell the difference between me being serious or sarcastic. Sapphire could, and she gave me a harsh look.

  “I’ve given you a great privilege. I hope you don’t embarrass me.”

  I wanted to laugh. Those were Reevie’s exact words before ushering me into the Temple for the first time. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my chief,” I said with a low deferential bow. I even threw in a sweep of my hand just for flare.

  Spats clearly appreciated the gesture as he straightened his back. “Pack whatever weapons you might need. You will have free pick of whatever we have.”

 

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