“The girls are running,” Cal said. “They’re safe. Drina, you’re a genius.”
But watching the carnage, it was all I could do to keep my morning brew in my stomach.
With more beasts pouring into the square to enjoy the hunt, and the riders racing back and forth, I couldn’t pick one out of the swirl of motion for long enough to steal any magic. It was time to leave, while the Clans were distracted.
We were barely airborne when Sunshine shrieked, not in alarm, but anger. A warning, but not directed at me. I looked down, but could see nothing below, apart from an occasional beast lumbering through the streets. It was only when the sunshine disappeared, and I found myself in shadow, that I thought to look up.
There were a score of them, several eagles, but mostly the great white birds, which were even larger. And they were not being friendly.
Sunshine shrieked again, and Cal’s eagle joined in, but all the others screeched as well. The cacophony blasted my ears, but that was the least of our problems. We hadn’t noticed their approach, and now they were almost on top of us, feet extended to display their wickedly sharp claws.
I screamed. My mind was filled with panic, freezing me in place. My instinct was to protect myself, to cover my head with my arms, but I needed them to hang on to the leather straps. My fear of falling was greater than my fear of the birds. I ducked, but didn’t let go.
Fortunately, my eagle had better sense. She tucked her wings in and dived at a heart-crushing speed towards the rooftops below. Just when we must surely be smashed against the tiles, she flicked sideways, flapping upwards again. Then another sharp turn, wheeling, diving and ducking, and all the time shrieking her defiance at these birds – her kin, some of them – who dared to threaten us.
I couldn’t see most of our attackers. Sometimes I felt a rush of air as we whipped underneath one, and more than once the spike of a claw, as long as a dagger and just as sharp, ripped at me, snagging hair and clothing and, twice, the flesh beneath, a searing pain that took the breath from my throat.
As we tipped sideways again to brush past another aggressor, I caught a glimpse of Cal, engaged in his own battle of the air. He was lying low along his eagle’s back, as if on a galloping horse, gripping the saddle one-handed, and even as I watched he shot a stream of fire from his free hand. Another sharp manoeuvre took him out of my sight again, but the screams of pain from at least two birds made me smile grimly. We could defeat them!
It was a timely reminder to focus my mind. I had a weapon, too, but it was difficult to connect with a rider. They were above me or behind me, and they dived and spun as much as my own mount, moving together, then apart until it was impossible to tell one from another. But if I concentrated…
I let my eagle do what she wanted, and shut out everything else. Then, I probed outwards… There! As soon as I had contact, I took his magic. And another one, then a third. I lost count, it was so easy.
In a handful of heartbeats, they were gone, out of my reach. Sunshine levelled out, wings stretched lazily, and I gazed around, trying to pull my mind back into my surroundings. The sky around me was clear, the birds no more than specks in the distance, making fast for Candle Mountain.
Cal materialised beside me, whooping with glee. “Well done!” he yelled across. “That showed them, eh?”
“Where did the others go?” I called back. “The birds you hit, and the riders whose magic I took?”
“Gone down,” he said, pointing to the ground. “We can’t do anything with them now. Time to go, I think.”
He was right. But our foray beyond the Keep had failed. We had survived the birds’ assault, but another time we might not be so lucky. We would have to think again.
39: Magical Defences
“It was a foolish idea right from the start,” Mother scolded, as she washed blood from my face. “I told you so, didn’t I? But you wouldn’t listen. What a pair you are!”
Cal was in better shape than I was. His fire magic had kept the birds well away, and he only had a couple of very mild scratches. I had a deep gouge on one arm, and lesser wounds on the other arm and my head and back. Mother had healed me straight away, but I was still covered in blood.
“Yes, but Drina was amazing,” Cal said, his eyes shining. “You should have seen her, Kyra. She saved the two girls, and then she saved us.”
“Hmpf,” Mother said. “Well, you got away with it this time, but you might not be so lucky in the future.”
I could see Cal preparing to argue, so I stepped in quickly. “That’s true. We’ll have to find some other way to get at these people.”
“Well, I have an idea about that,” Mother said. “What about the Imperial City? What if we could lure these people in there?”
“The Blood Clans have magic, so they can enter the Imperial City freely.”
“Yes, exactly, they can come in, but what if you then take their magic? The birds would come and take them away, wouldn’t they? The City has its own magical defences.”
“The riders, yes, but what about the lions and so on?” I said. “You’d have hordes of riderless beasts rampaging through the Imperial City.”
“Oh, I can deal with those,” Mother said airily.
It was a sign of how exhausted our minds were that we all thought it a good idea.
~~~~~
While the mages planned how to entice the Clan riders into the Imperial City, I had some good news for a change. The Mirror Room, which connected the Keep with the scriberies, had continued to operate during all the upheavals. It was wonderfully reassuring in the midst of such havoc to receive dull reports of roof repairs and grain stores and the occasional birth or marriage from far-flung parts of the realm, which were unaffected by the war. If only it could stay that way! So far, the Blood Clans had simply roamed around the city, showing no signs of moving on, nor had reinforcements arrived.
But amidst the routine matters of the provinces was one message which cheered me enormously. Riders had managed to reach Yannitore with news of the border fortress. Arran was safe! That was the first fact that jumped out at me as I anxiously scanned the pages. His name was mentioned several times. Then there had been no sign of any further invasion troops, which was even better news.
Best of all, small numbers of survivors from the forward camp had begun arriving. It seemed that a great many soldiers had been out of the camp when the attack happened or had managed to escape, and had been slowly making their way back to the border ever since. It seemed likely that as many as half the camp would eventually turn up, although sadly not the High Commander.
I was full of hope, all at once. My beloved Arran was not, after all, lying broken at the fortress gates, trampled by some monster from a nightmare. Ly-haam had nothing else to throw at us, and we would soon reclaim the streets of Kingswell. Perhaps the little bursts of magic I’d absorbed from the bird riders had helped my mood, too, but whatever the reason, everything looked a lot more positive.
The plan for the Imperial City began to fall into place. Cal would open the main gate from the guardroom just inside the walls. I would wait about halfway up the main street, with Mother. I would have to be inside one of the buildings, to avoid attracting the City’s protective birds. Then, with the gates open, we hoped a few beasts would wander in. I would take the riders’ magic, and Mother would take care of any rampaging beasts.
Such a simple plan, and so many things could go wrong. But we had to try it. It was unbearable to sit tamely inside the Keep, waiting for weather or boredom or random chance to drive the Clans away.
The skies were heavy with impending rain when we flew into the Imperial City. Our eagles we sent back to the Keep, in case their presence deterred the Clan riders. We landed in the main street, and Cal set off to the guardroom beside the main gate. Mother and I raced to the building we’d chosen and dashed into the entrance hall before the magical birds could be triggered. I wasn’t sure what building it was, but like all those on the street leading up to the libr
ary, it was constructed on a grand scale, with intricately carved stone pillars, and plain marble floors and benches. Marble statues of people in flowing robes gazed benevolently down at us, and above the inner door a frieze depicted an airborne battle of dragons, with tiny riders perched on their necks. I’d thought riding an eagle was impressive, but I couldn’t imagine riding a beast of that size, something bigger than our house at Zendronia.
Inside, with the doors safely closed, Mother smiled and exhaled gustily. “Well! That was nerve-wracking. Stay away from the doors, dear, until the creatures are outside. There’s a window in the next room. I’ll watch from there.”
She vanished through a side door, while I wandered about the entrance hall, running my fingers over the statues and admiring the skill of the sculptors. Such lifelike reproductions! We had no artisans capable of such work. There were talented painters, and some woodcarvers had great skill, but our statuary was crude by comparison.
I wondered what these people had done to deserve to be immortalised in marble. Would I ever have my likeness displayed somewhere, to be stared at and touched by generations not yet born? How strange to live on into the future, dead but still a presence in the world.
The line of statues led to the inner door, and then back along the other side. Around the base of each plinth was carved some sort of plant, a different one for each statue. And then I was back at the front door, and that, too, was carved, with scenes of forests or rocky shores or peaceful dunes. Even the bronze handle had a face sculpted onto it. I wondered what I would find if I looked at the outside of the door. More pictures? Or was it plain? I hadn’t noticed when I came in.
My hand reached for the door handle, turned it, pulled it—
“Stop!” Mother came pounding out of the side room. “Drina, you mustn’t go outside! Come away from the door! The bird is here – you must hide! Quickly!”
The door stayed closed, but it was not enough. For anyone else, perhaps a solid wooden door would have been sufficient. But for me, the bird’s magic drew me relentlessly. Or perhaps I drew it, who knows. And now I could see its magic in my mind, I could feel it, taste it, almost. I had only to reach out—
“Sleep!”
I crashed against the marble floor with a bone-jarring thud that made me squeal, pain lancing through me. My head spun. What had happened? It was too confusing. I tried to push myself up, but I was too dazed.
Then Mother was there. “Drina! Are you all right? Gods, how did you—?”
She knelt beside me, resting a hand on my forehead, and the healing warmth of her magic poured into me. The pain vanished instantly, although it took a moment longer for the room to stop spinning.
“What was that?” I said. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I. That shouldn’t happen at all. I’ve used that spell so many times—”
“Wait! You spelled me? Why would you do that?”
“To stop you running outside. But you just ate my spell! It was strong enough to sink an ox, but you just fell over. You never slept at all, did you?”
Shaking my head, I smiled weakly. “That’s what I do, Mother. I eat magic, remember? At least you broke the connection. The bird has gone. Oh but… there are Clan riders outside.”
I scrambled to my feet, the dizziness gone, and raced to the outer door. But then I hesitated. I didn’t need to be outside for what I had to do. If I could sense them from the safety of the entrance hall, I could take their magic, too. My hand rested on the door handle.
“No, don’t,” Mother said. “Safer inside, with lions and such like wandering about. Let’s go to the window.”
The side door led into a small room with sofas, chairs and small tables dotted about. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in golden light, too bright to be natural, given the heavy clouds outside. A central fireplace burned with low flames that gave no heat. On a side table, decanters of wine were set out alongside exquisitely delicate spun glassware and plates of sweetmeats that looked appetisingly fresh. Another door led into the body of the building. An ante-room, then, where guests waited to be received.
Mother waved me across to the window, which showed the main street lit by brilliant sunshine instead of the grey, overcast sky I knew existed out there. A magical trick to impress visitors, perhaps. Mages showing off. That was exactly the kind of hubris that led to the Catastrophe. Well, they got their proper reward for such flamboyance, for they were all dead now. Magic couldn’t save them, in the end, and their descendants suffered for their loss every hour. We still had magic, of a sort, and spellpages could do many things, but they were feeble shadows of the glory of the mages. Even Mother’s power was nothing compared with the Imperial City and all its wonders.
Outside, I could see one of the running birds, and a massive bear.
“Is that all?” It was a disappointment. I’d hoped for a better haul.
“The rest have noticed that the gate has closed behind them. Look.”
Leaning forward, I could see right down the main street, where a gaggle of beasts and riders milled about at the wall where the gate used to be. Now that it had closed, there was no sign of it, and the wall was smooth and blank. I could just hear the shouting, as the riders argued about it and struggled to make sense of what had happened.
“They’re too far away, I can’t— Wait! Something’s coming, something magic.”
“The magical birds?”
“No. I don’t know what—”
We both gasped as, out in the street, nets materialised out of thin air. Shimmering, gauzy affairs that looked too flimsy to hold anything. One descended over every rider and beast. As soon as they made contact, both rider and beast froze, caught motionless in whatever position they had been in when the net struck.
And then, in no more than a heartbeat, they were gone. All of them. The main street was empty.
~~~~~
Cal’s eyes shone with excitement. “The Imperial City detected their hostility and dealt with it, that’s all. But we should have guessed. Of course there are defence mechanisms everywhere within the Shining Walls. Nothing ever triggered it before, that’s all. And they reappeared outside the gates. Isn’t it amazing?”
Some of the other mages shook their heads. We were gathered in the observation room, the commanders hunched on one side of the table, and the mages on the other. None of them liked such surprises in the Imperial City. The commanders, who lived their lives by action and battle plans and human-level interaction, had a natural suspicion of anything which disrupted the normal course of events. Magic was very much in the disruptive category. The mages were comfortable with magic, but only the familiar kind – spellpages, and the spoken or mental variants of that. Both groups agreed that the Imperial City was dangerously unpredictable.
Cal and Mother, on the other hand, had a touching faith that it was their city, built by and for mages. Their magic made them its natural citizens, and therefore, whatever surprises it might throw at others, it was perfectly safe for them.
“It may be amazing,” I said acidly, “but it doesn’t help us. There is little point in drawing these people into the Imperial City, if the City itself is going to gobble them up and spit them out before we can get to them. If it would throw them into the dungeons, or some such, that would be useful to us. We could, in time, get rid of most of them. But if it simply tosses them back over the wall, our efforts would be wasted.”
“Two riders died from landing too close to one of the beasts,” a commander said. Then he shrugged. “But I suppose it is not much help.”
“So what are we to do?” I wailed. Tears welled up, but I would not cry. I straightened my back, and took a long breath. “Well, we are stymied for the moment, but we have time. We will think of something. Is there any more news from Yannitore?”
“Not regarding the northwestern fortress, Most Powerful.”
“Any more sightings of our own people on the streets?”
“Not that we have seen, Most Powerful. But the bea
sts have been quiet at night, possibly asleep, so if I were holed up in a basement somewhere, I would creep out when it was dark to fetch supplies. Or just stay hidden away. Many of the larger houses have their own well, and the cellars will be fully stocked at this time of year.”
“That is true,” I said. “But why do these creatures sleep at night? They arrived here in the dark, didn’t they?”
“Why do they do anything?” the commander wheezed, with a wry grimace. “But if I had to guess, I would say that they are exhausted. They reached us so quickly, they must have marched directly here without resting. Even creatures like these cannot sustain that pace indefinitely. They need to sleep, just as all animals do.”
It made them seem a touch less fearsome when I thought of the lions curled up in slumber, their riders tucked alongside them. It was an illusion, of course.
One of the commanders coughed. “Most Powerful…”
“Yes?”
He looked embarrassed. “There is smoke to the south. From a part of the merchants’ quarter.”
“Smoke? Not chimney smoke? A burning building, you mean?”
He nodded, still not looking me in the eye.
A fire. And no one able to put it out. So now the city would be razed to the ground while we sat around discussing what to do. Step by step we learned more but still had no way to turn the tide. Here we sat, safe in our refuge, but helpless to break the siege.
We were trapped here until the Clans left or we all died of starvation. And how much of Kingswell would be left by then?
40: Searching
I was restless that night. We all went to bed early, but after I’d dismissed the servants, I lit some extra lamps and picked up a book about a war with the Blood Clans that had happened several hundred years ago. It was written more recently than that, so the accuracy was questionable, but it was still a vivid insight into their methods.
The Fire Mages' Daughter Page 37
