by Rosie Scott
Cyrus sighed, forlorn. Altan chuckled at his antics and slapped the other Sentinel on the back. “Don't you fret about a thing, friend. I'm sure defending Esen is on one of our to-do lists.” The fire mage glanced to Zephyr. “You get to drinking yet?”
Zephyr chuckled. “Not yet, Altan. I've been working.” She motioned to the crates at her feet.
“Well, we're here to fix that,” Altan replied. “Let's get dinner together.” His red eyes found the other Renegades and me. “I'm sure you all are starving for hot food.”
“After half a year on the gods awful sea? Hell yes,” Nyx replied.
Altan chuckled. “Zephyr, come with us.”
The fourth Sentinel exhaled impatiently. “I have work to do, Altan.”
Cyrus spoke up. “Allow yourself some rest, just for the night. All of us other than Altan will be returning to Mistral tomorrow. We may have information to share with each other before we part.”
Zephyr seemed to finally cave. “All right, fine. Give me a couple of minutes here. I'll meet you in the Cleveland Sails.”
The Cleveland Sails was a large tavern that sat facing the harbor, the building itself protruding out of the bottom rock of the towering Cleves. It appeared that Eteri had gotten the giants to chip away at the cliffs themselves, making the sides of them facing Makani almost perfectly vertical other than the businesses that were carved straight out of the rock. Since the cliffs had been tamed for the city's architecture, the grass and cobblestone streets led to land made out of smoothed stone as we approached the tavern, proving that the Cleves had long ago stretched farther down the country's eastern coast.
Beside the tavern was a well-lit tunnel that led up into the Cleves, the same path that could lead us to Welkin. I saw Jakan eyeing it curiously as if he remembered traveling through as a child. Some Vhiri traders and caravans were leaving Makani through the path, on their way to meet the supply and demand of Jakan's hometown to the north.
The Cleveland Sails opened up when we went inside it, remaining one story in the front while having three stories in the back once the establishment was in the safety of the cliffs. The front of the tavern had windows looking out to the harbor, but the back end of it relied on sconces for firelight. It was set up much like the tavern Theron and I had gone to together in T'ahal, as the upper floors overlooked those below them from through safety railings chiseled straight from stone.
Despite the hustle and bustle outside, the tavern wasn't terribly busy. Altan led us up to the third floor, where we pulled two tables together to seat our large party. We didn't have to wait long until Zephyr caught up with us, taking a seat between Altan and Uriel.
“So,” Zephyr started, once we'd all ordered drinks and food. “Where to begin?”
“How about with news of Kirek?” I asked her. “Did you hear anything from her or the battle for T'ahal?”
“No, nothing at all,” Zephyr replied, looking a little sad that she'd been unable to give me answers. “She hoped to be back to Mistral by Red Moon. If that's the case, I would have just missed her arrival back in Scirocco since I had to leave. Ten thousand soldiers went with her, you know. Kirek is a phenomenal general and fighter. I try not to worry about what has become of her.”
“It is possible she was outnumbered, and she is in a land unfamiliar to her,” Cyrus replied.
“Oh, come on now,” Altan chuckled. “Kirek is unfazed by everything other than joy. She'll be fine.” A few of us laughed at the joke, knowing it to be true.
“How many soldiers did you bring with you?” Uriel questioned.
“Ah, there were twenty thousand in Scirocco altogether. The queen told me to leave five. She probably figured Makani would draw most of the naval attacks. There's not much I could do from the city, anyway. Kirek took most of the ships.” Zephyr thanked the waiter as her ale was delivered, before taking a drink. “We just got here a few days ago. Ran into some trouble with a herd of manticores near the cliffs in the south.”
“I thought those things had been dealt with,” Altan commented.
Cyrus glanced over at the first Sentinel. “They had been. Uriel and I scoured those cliffs. They must be taking shelter in some caves or something.”
“Anyway...” Zephyr trailed off, bringing our attention back to the initial subject. “My orders were to secure the city until your return. Then I'm off to reinforce Esen in the north. I've been working on resupplying the city and getting people to rebuild everything that's been destroyed.”
“You should leave tomorrow,” Altan told her. “I'll take care of Makani. Those were my orders, anyway. It'll take you a while yet to reach Esen, and it needs reinforcements as soon as possible.”
Zephyr sighed with relief. “I'd greatly appreciate that, friend. Thank you for the offer. I'll get my men to pack and prepare tonight. Do you need me to leave any of them with you? How did your numbers fare?”
“Started with thirteen thousand, including the men we left here. Lost four,” Altan replied. “I'll be fine. Those soldiers are my own.” Throwing a finger our way, he added, “They can gather men in Mistral.”
“Ahh, yes, I nearly forgot,” Zephyr commented, glancing at me. “You'll be taking the fight to Glacia with Bhaskar. Kirek told me that recent intel indicates their numbers are great.”
“Let's stay positive,” Altan retorted, unwilling to hear it.
Zephyr chuckled. “Let's stay realistic,” she argued. Looking back to me, she added, “Did you ever find out a way to protect our ships from their mages?”
“Yes,” I replied. “A way that will refuel our own soldiers. It utilizes alteration magic, though, so I need time to teach it to the soldiers who will come with us. Altan's men are the only ones so far who know it.”
“So much to do, so little time,” Zephyr said, sympathizing.
The group of us ate dinner together, savoring a variety of cooked dishes which were many leagues ahead of the mostly dried meals and fish we'd had to resort to over our trip. We filled Zephyr in on the details of our battle at Narangar, in addition to some of the things she'd missed out on while in Scirocco which included the destruction of Tal.
Within a few hours, our plates had long been cleared away, and many of the others had eyes glazed with the buzz of alcohol. The sun had set some time before, but the murmur outside only lessened. Even at night, many of Zephyr's soldiers were working to make this city whole again. Little noise other than the movement of tools and supplies filtered in from the small windows of the first floor.
It made the screams that much more noticeable.
“Attack! Eteri is being attacked!” The voice was male and hoarse with panic, booming close to the tavern before moving into the city, where the man kept screaming, his words becoming muffled with distance.
We all stood up from the table abruptly, stone chairs skidding harshly back on hard floors. Altan was first to the stairs leading down to the first floor, though he nearly tripped over them from his tipsiness. We were but a stampede rushing out into the night, our senses sharpened from adrenaline.
I looked right, then left. I could see no enemies or reason to be concerned. The screaming man's voice was muted from behind a cluster of buildings, but his yelling was causing both soldiers and civilians to come out of buildings to see the ruckus. The Sentinels and Renegades alike ran through shadowed streets until we finally caught up to the man leaning against a statue of Aleyah in the midst of one of Makani's city squares.
The man was Vhiri, and he wore the yellow and black armor of Eteri's mage soldiers. The armor was scorched by fire just below his right collarbone and to his arm, leaving the yellow tinged with black. He breathed heavily from running and panic, before lifting his face back up to the night skies.
“Naolin Zeru has fallen in battle! Esen is taken! The Icilic invade to the north!”
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. My eyes flicked to the right. Cyrus held his head with a hand, and it shook as he dragged it down his face.
“Gods, no,” the wat
er mage murmured.
“What do you mean, invade?” Altan grabbed the man's shoulder desperately. “Have they taken Esen or are they moving south?”
“Both! Both!” The soldier wailed, shaking.
I thought of Naolin and how open and friendly she'd been with us all, and my heart was seized with sadness. The Sentinel herself had requested reinforcements multiple times, desperately trying to avoid such a thing. Now, our worst fears were realized.
“How many?” Uriel demanded.
“Oh, there were...” the soldier trailed off. “Gods, there were tens of thousands. A whole fleet of warships. They were bigger than ours. Each one held far more mages than I could have imagined. Our ships were overtaken because our mages couldn't use their magic if they were using the wards.”
My stomach fell. I hadn't had a chance to teach Naolin's soldiers the alteration shields while we'd been in Esen. I had to wonder how much of a difference they would have made.
“How well did Naolin and your army fare?” I asked the soldier.
“It was a bloodbath,” he breathed, shaking his head in mourning. “We defended for as long as we could, but they had us surrounded. They sent their ships in waves, even unloading them in the western harbor. Slaughtered everyone. Soldiers and civilians alike. We lost all of our healers by the fourth day. That's when it all went downhill. Naolin was decapitated before they rose her from the dead. That's when the rest of us fled.” The soldier pointed off to the Pedr Crags. “Many of them ran for the Pedr Crags because they were closer, but I ran for the Cleves because someone needed to bring the news to Makani.”
“Are they coming here or are they going to Mistral?” Altan inquired.
“I...I don't know.” The soldier looked up to the Cleves standing tall above the city. “But when I was in the highlands, I could see them moving south. A huge army. Tens of thousands. Too many to fit on the ships, so maybe they brought more. Last I saw them, they were nearing the river just north of the Highland Pass.”
“When?” Uriel prodded.
“Just a day or two ago. They're moving much slower than I was since they stayed to take the town, but they'll be here within the moon.”
“Did any of them follow you to the Cleves?” I asked the soldier, fearing that the city could be attacked directly.
“I...don't know. I've been rushing to get here this past moon that I barely stopped to rest,” the soldier admitted. “They saw me flee. They were trying to kill all of us who ran. Even...even if they didn't see the tunnel into the cliffs, there is an entrance to the tunnels here at the river. It's possible they'll find it.”
“We're not going back to Mistral,” I murmured, flicking my eyes between Cyrus and Uriel.
“No,” Cyrus agreed.
All of our previous plans were put on an abrupt hold. The Sentinels and Renegades talked far into the night, rushing through ideas for the oncoming attack and how we would approach it. We had little time to react, and the consequences of failure would be enormous. If Eteri were overrun, all would be lost.
The plan we finally agreed on was only set in stone once the sun rose over the city of Makani and my body was heavy with severe fatigue. Altogether, we had twenty-four thousand soldiers in Makani. Five thousand would stay in the city to defend its two entry points from the north, which included the tunnel leading up into the highlands. Zephyr would lead twelve thousand to the entrance of the Highland Pass, blockading the Icilic Army from their advance southward and putting them at a severe disadvantage as they filed through the narrow passage. The other Sentinels and I would lead seven thousand soldiers through the tunnels and to the top of the highlands, enabling us to both protect Makani's second entry in the case the Icilic found it and fire ranged attacks at the army from above.
Both armies in this upcoming battle were full of mages. It would be unlike any battle I'd ever participated in. Even in the Battle of the Dead, mages were the minority on both sides. In the upcoming fight, smart use of energy would be imperative. The weather over Eteri was constantly moody with the cooling temperatures of Red Moon combined with the chaotic storms seeping in from the north, which would help to fuel all magic wielders. At the same time, with such overwhelming numbers of mages, even that energy could not last forever. I expected a highly magical battle to turn into a melee brawl once reserves ran dry. Of course, the soldier had mentioned that Naolin had been raised from the dead. Perhaps Glacia was able to keep their trading relationship with Chairel while utilizing necromancy simply because the Icilic were so isolated and secretive with its use.
We only stayed in Makani for one further night before setting off, taking just long enough to prepare our soldiers for an immense battle. Azazel, Nyx, Jakan, Uriel, and I taught the lesser magics to as many soldiers in Naolin's army as we could during that time, with the intention of those soldiers teaching it to others while traveling to battle. It was a last minute fix, but it was all we had. After all, we couldn't be sure whether the Icilic Army was as well-versed in these magics as the assassins underground had been.
Our armies departed Makani on the 13th of Red Moon. Each of the Sentinels carried a war horn for use during battle, and now, so did I. All of the Seran Renegades were treated as one prestigious unit under my own command, so my horn would speak for us all if I would need to utilize it in battle. In the case of my death, I left it up to Azazel to command the others, and in the case of his death, the responsibility would be Cerin's. We didn't plan out further than that because we refused to believe that any of us would lose our lives in this fight. We'd gotten this far together. There had been many allied casualties in the war thus far, but only one Renegade had ever fallen.
Once we passed through the underground tunnel and emerged in the midst of brisk winds howling over the highlands, however, that Renegade's voice compounded in my head like a shout.
Trust your gut. Trust your gut.
I did trust it. And it told me that all of our foreboding thoughts and worries over the past year were soon going to come to a head.
Thirty-one
28th of Red Moon, 422
Being on top of the Cleves was like being in the rolling Eteri grasslands, because though we stood upon land that towered far above the Servis Ocean and the nearby Highland Pass, we were surrounded by sheets of waving green. The skies above were nearly purple with their intimidating opacity, thick clouds moving so quickly through the heavens that we could watch them come and go from one horizon to the next. An ominous rumbling echoed in the distance, accompanied by the flickering veins of natural lightning to the north.
It was our third day waiting on top of the Highland Pass, and our time here so far had been spent continuing to teach the soldiers alteration and illusion magic. Our army was too large to allow us to reach everyone, but the time the soldier's warning had given us could have been the difference between the upcoming battle's loss or win. A griffon messenger from Makani had been sent to inform the queen in Mistral of the impending fight, but we did not expect reinforcements. Even if Tilda wanted to send them, they would arrive too late to help us.
We used Azazel as a scout for the entire army. With Zephyr's location at the end of the Highland Pass, she could not scout unless she sent someone directly forward through the narrow path and into the fray. We needed someone to travel farther north on the Cleves to keep an eye and ear out for the approaching army, and since Azazel's senses were better than the rest of ours, he was chosen.
Azazel reported back to us in the middle of the night that the army was within his view. They were half a day from reaching the northern end of the Highland Pass and had stopped beside the last arm of the river to rest their army for the night. The archer couldn't have possibly counted how many soldiers the Icilic Army had, but he told us that they had more than us without any doubt.
The Icilic had never sought to take land via conquest before so the battle ahead would be historic whether or not we were the victors. In a twisted way, I understood the enemy's plight. If my own homeland
threatened to disappear below my feet, I too would take desperate measures to stop it. I couldn't be sure if the idea to take Eteri was originally theirs or Vertun's, but it was a plan that would benefit them both. Glacia was desperate, and Vertun was full of resentment.
So here we were.
The army of seven thousand under our command was spread out on the plains of the upper highlands between Makani and the northern section of the pass. They remained out of sight and as quiet as possible as we had commanded. Any noise they did make was mostly kept hidden by the howling of winds so harsh they made the temperature drop a significant degree. The use of the Highland Pass in this battle was too important; allowing the Icilic Army to know we were in wait could encourage them simply not to enter it, taking away any advantage the land had to offer us.
Azazel and I crouched low near the cliff edge facing northwest, our eyes on the army advancing toward us like a plague. I held binoculars over my face, allowing me to see as much of them as I could.
The Icilic Army was both a beautiful and terrifying sight. Even from my distance, the natural glow of their skin glimmered in the late morning sunlight, so pure white that it sometimes appeared opalescent blue. I remembered that someone had once described them as being like creatures of the ocean. Now that I had been underground and witnessed such creatures for myself in the aquariums of Quellden, I understood this to be true. Cicero had appeared fully Icilic, but the darkness of his dungeon cell had prevented us from fully appreciating it. Each man and woman in the army before us was a collection of shimmering colors over a base of white as if movement itself could change the hues of their skin tone. It was almost as if the elves mimicked the shimmering shades of the ice and snow that would often appear over the lands of Arrayis in Dark Star.
