Liberating Fight

by Melissa McShane

  “Thank God you did not kill the king,” Edmund said. “I do not believe we could come back from that.”

  “He was gravely misinformed, and afraid, not evil,” Amaya said, “and I do not believe he should suffer for that. Do you suppose he will do as you instructed, and send the Army?”

  “I hope he has already done so.” Edmund stood upright and ran his hands through his hair, disordering it further. “Now we must decide what we are to do.”

  “What, decide? We will fight.”

  “This is not our fight, Amaya.” Edmund walked away down the hall. Amaya hurried to catch up to him.

  “It is our fight, Edmund,” she said. “We helped Mr. Valencia take Aranjuez. Even if we were wrong about what he decided to do—”

  “Yes, and that concerns me. He was very clear that he intended to subdue that city. His decision to march on Madrid instead can only be a result of our escape.”

  Amaya grabbed Edmund’s hand and made him stop. “How is that?”

  Edmund’s jaw was tight with anger. “If he knew we were free of Coercion, he must have guessed we would return to warn the king. That means he would lose the element of surprise he would otherwise have in capturing Aranjuez and Coercing its troops. And given that, there would be no point in his waiting to capture Madrid—would be actively detrimental to his plan, as our warning would permit the Army to amass in such numbers as even Jennet is unlikely to be able to sway.”

  Amaya nodded. “I understand. I wish Jennet had come with us.”

  Edmund scowled more deeply. “I wish you had killed her.”

  “I told you, I swore not to in exchange for your life.”

  That startled him. “You did not say that.”

  “Did I not?” She could not remember. “At any rate, I do not believe she is as evil as one might think. I believe she wants to be free of Mr. Valencia but does not know how.”

  “You are hopelessly optimistic,” Edmund said. “And it doesn’t matter now. We must tell Lord Enderleigh what has happened, in case the king decides to mount an assault upon our position here.”

  Amaya let him pull her along after him. She did not believe it was unnatural to wish Jennet to free herself, but she could not have explained why. They had nothing in common save a terrifying talent, and even that was a slim connection, given that it seemed no Europeans knew how deadly an Extraordinary Shaper could be. But Amaya could not help remembering how Jennet had looked when she offered the Coercer the chance to leave with them, how for the briefest moment, Jennet had seemed hopeful, like a prisoner who sees the light of day for the first time in years.

  Edmund threw open the door to Elinor’s drawing room with greater force than it required. Amaya could sympathize with the urgency that propelled him. Within, Elinor sat in her accustomed place near the fire, with Lord Enderleigh seated across from her. Sir William stood by the window and turned at the noise of the door slamming open. Under their collective stare, Amaya was conscious of her disheveled state, of her hair hanging in a horse’s tail down her back, and for the first time since entering English society felt embarrassed.

  Edmund seemed to feel no such thing. “My lord, my lady, forgive our intrusion,” he said.

  Elinor rose from her seat, saying, “Not at all. You must permit me to call Señora Zambrano—I cannot imagine anyone bothered to bring you food.”

  “We have no time,” Amaya said. “Señor Valencia—El Encendedor—he marches on Madrid, and the king believes we bring him here.”

  Lord Enderleigh stood as well. “Explain,” he said.

  Amaya was grateful the earl was not a man to waste time on irrelevancies such as “who” or “what.” “The king—” she began, then could not imagine what to say first.

  “You know the king believed we were Coerced and under orders to kill him,” Edmund said. “It seems El Encendedor, rather than consolidating his power in Aranjuez, chose to bring his forces north to Madrid. The king believes we lied about El Encendedor’s plans so the man might come upon the city secretly.”

  “How close is El Encendedor to the city?” Lord Enderleigh asked.

  “We did not see,” Edmund replied. “But by the king’s reaction, he has already reached the outskirts of Madrid.”

  “I can learn,” Amaya said. “I will go to the roof.”

  “No need,” Lord Enderleigh said. “I will see what I can discover. The rest of you—” He looked at Elinor, and a flash of understanding passed between them. “You should make plans to evacuate.”

  “Miles!” Elinor protested. “And leave these people helpless against a monster who thinks nothing of burning men alive? I may be their last line of defense!”

  “You cannot fight El Encendedor directly,” Lord Enderleigh said, “and I will not risk my wife and child for what is essentially a Spanish affair.”

  Sir William, who had had his head thrown back in the attitude of a Speaker, lowered his chin and walked forward to join Elinor by the fire. “I have spoken with my liaison in England, and he is quite clear that we should not endanger ourselves. If El Encendedor is on his way here, even your talent, my lady, will not be enough to dissuade both him and his forces. And the majority of our diplomatic party are not fighters, save perhaps Sir John. They will be a liability.”

  “My lord, Sir William, it is true we might leave,” Edmund said, “particularly since King Ferdinand believes we—Miss Salazar and I—are his enemy. In fact, we should remove from the palace to some safe location, as it is possible the king will send soldiers after us here and we are not capable of defending against such force. But it is in England’s best interests to have Spain indebted to us, something we might accomplish by fighting on their side. And, if I may be blunt—the world will know what happens here, and their fear of Extraordinary Scorchers will grow out of control if they believe one is capable of taking down a government.”

  Now Amaya looked at Elinor, who reddened, though Amaya judged her angry rather than embarrassed. “I do not fear you,” she told her friend, “as you do not fear me. But if you wish to leave, I will help.”

  “There must be something we can do,” Elinor insisted.

  “With both El Encendedor and King Ferdinand against us?” Lord Enderleigh said. “This is no naval battle, Elinor. Neither of us know how to fight on land, or how to defend a party of noncombatants. It is best that we leave.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Please, do not permit your thirst for justice to override your good sense.”

  Elinor scowled at him. “You will not take me against my will, Miles.”

  “Of course not. Which is why I ask you, again, to go willingly.”

  Elinor rested her hand atop his. “You are too sensible,” she said. “Very well. But if it comes to a fight—if we cannot flee in time—”

  “Then we will stand together, as always,” Lord Enderleigh said with a wry smile.

  Elinor sighed and patted his hand. “You should spy out the land, and see what route we should take. I will prepare the others for evacuation.”

  “And I will help too,” Amaya said. “It is that the king may send his soldiers, and we will have to fight them to get free.”

  “Let us hope that is not the case,” Elinor said.

  Chapter 24

  In which retreat is discussed, and the nature of sanctuary explored

  The sun had nearly set by the time Lord Enderleigh returned. The ambassadorial apartment was in a flurry of packing and racing to and fro, deciding what must come and what could be left behind. Amaya stayed near Elinor, who was as calm as ever in directing the servants and answering questions from her position in the drawing room. “I would leave everything,” Elinor confided, “as there is nothing here that cannot be replaced. But people are usually calmer if they know their possessions are secure.”

  Amaya touched Uturunku’s wallqa that she wore beneath her shirt. It was the only one of her jewels she treasured, and she had chosen to leave her jewelry box in favor of a swift flight. The shirt’s fabric slid along
the wallqa’s flat, hammered surface, reassuring her that she had not left everything behind in Peru.

  A door slammed in the distance, and soon Lord Enderleigh appeared in the doorway. Elinor gasped. The earl’s clothes were charred, and he smelled of burned cloth and hair. “I am well, do not fear,” he said, clasping Elinor’s hand. Behind him, the sitting room door closed, and Amaya heard the key turn in the lock.

  Elinor heard it too. “El Encendedor caught you,” she said, her eyes wide.

  “Only once, and I was at a great enough distance that his fire could do no damage,” Lord Enderleigh said. “But—” He hesitated, and Amaya saw his grip on Elinor’s hand tighten. “I believe his range is greater than yours, my darling.”

  “Range is only one aspect of a Scorcher’s talent,” Elinor said. “But you seem concerned with more than that.”

  The sitting room door latch rattled, and then someone knocked on the door. Lord Enderleigh ignored it. “It is growing dark, and that he saw me in the gloom concerns me. We must hope to slip away unnoticed.”

  “I am not afraid,” Elinor said.

  “You never are. Permit me the indulgence of fearing for you.” The earl let go Elinor’s hand. “We must leave now. The fighting has reached the southeastern end of Madrid, and if we are to escape the city, we cannot delay.”

  The knocking on the door redoubled. The earl glanced over his shoulder, and the key turned in the lock. Edmund opened the door. “We are nearly ready, my lady.”

  “We must go now,” Elinor said. “Tell everyone to take what they can and leave the rest.”

  Edmund nodded and disappeared around the corner.

  Despite Elinor’s command, it took some ten minutes for everyone in the ambassador’s party to gather. Amaya waited with Elinor by the outer door, chafing at the delay. Elinor’s calm grated on her, for once; she wished her friend would shout or demand obedience or anything that would get all these people pointed in the right direction.

  Someone hammered on the door, startling Amaya. Elinor jerked in surprise. The pounding resumed, and someone said in Spanish, “Open and release the traitors to us, by order of King Ferdinand of Spain!”

  “They are here for me and Edmund,” Amaya whispered, though it was unlikely the soldiers could hear anything over the noise they were making.

  Elinor muttered something under her breath that sounded like profanity. “Tell them this is sovereign territory of England,” she said, “and do not permit them entrance.” She hurried away, moving awkwardly but swiftly.

  Amaya repeated Elinor’s words in Spanish. The pounding ceased for a few moments. Then the same voice said, “If England protects traitors, they are an enemy to Spain. Give up the traitors and prove your friendship.”

  Amaya was not certain this was reasonable, but it hardly mattered, given that she was no traitor. “You will not provoke war between our countries, will you?” she said. “Consider carefully what you intend.”

  Silence. Amaya paced restlessly before the door. Perhaps the soldiers would see sense where their master had not. On the other hand, they were sworn to obey the king, and might not believe themselves responsible for preventing a war if it meant disobeying orders.

  The pounding began again, several hard thumps, and then the speaker said, “The traitors work against England as well as Spain if they support El Encendedor, who wishes only death and destruction. Hand them over, or we will be forced to break down this door.”

  “You will not. You desire peace with England, and this is not the way to achieve that.” Amaya was running out of words to fend them off. She extended her claws and sent commands to Strength and Heart, preparing for a fight.

  “Stand aside, Miss Salazar,” said Lord Enderleigh from behind her. Amaya turned to see two chairs and the sofa from the drawing room swaying toward her, untouched by human hands. The earl walked behind them with no indication that he felt any strain at Moving the heavy furniture.

  Amaya stepped to one side as the pounding began again. The chairs and sofa settled against the door firmly, stilling the vibrations that ran through the door. “We must go,” Lord Enderleigh said, indicating that Amaya should follow him. “It will take them some time to break through, and by then we will be well away.”

  “But there is no other exit from this place,” Amaya protested.

  “There is now,” the earl said.

  He led her to a bedroom at the far end of the apartment. Amaya did not know whom it had belonged to, but it was larger than her own and had two tall windows instead of one. It was also full of people, nearly the entire ambassadorial party. A strong wind whistled through the open windows—no, that was wrong, the windows were not made to open. The glass was entirely missing from both windows, whose frames gleamed with shattered fragments from where something had smashed them open.

  Lord Enderleigh pushed through the crowd to stand where he could see outside. “Two at a time,” he said, “and you need only remain still, this is perfectly safe.”

  Two men climbed up into the casements, taking care not to touch the jagged glass still clinging to the openings. As Amaya watched, they lifted off the sills and floated smoothly downward and out of sight. Amazed, Amaya took a few steps forward, but halted when someone put a hand on her arm. “We will go last,” Elinor told her, “in the event those soldiers are more dedicated and stronger than I believe.”

  “I do not know a Mover can do such,” Elinor said.

  “Sir John is almost as highly rated a Mover as Lord Enderleigh, and between the two of them, we should be able to escape cleanly.” Elinor spoke absently, as if her mind were elsewhere. Amaya smelled fire, a sharp, hot, smokeless scent, and realized Elinor’s hand was limned with flames that burned with gemlike colors, lapis and opal and ruby and gold. She took in an astonished breath. Elinor looked at her, then down at her burning hand. She smiled, and the fire vanished. “I had believed myself in control of that reaction. Forgive me.”

  “It does not hurt me,” Amaya said.

  She heard footsteps, and Edmund entered the room. “We have left nothing important behind,” he said, “and the soldiers at the door continue battering at it impotently. I don’t believe anyone knows what we intend.”

  “There are so many carriages,” Elinor said, for the first time sounding worried. “I know Miles said the Army and the guards have been pulled away to the fight, but surely someone must see.”

  “Let us be hopeful that they will not,” Edmund said.

  The room was nearly empty, and Amaya watched young Peter Grimly climb into the window and be Moved gracefully down. Then it was her turn. Suppressing a twinge of nervousness, she stepped up, feeling grateful for her trousers. Lord Enderleigh gave her a reassuring smile. “Do not struggle,” he said.

  A feeling as of gentle pressure, like a giant, invisible hand, rose up around her. It reminded her of being held by the king’s Movers, but flexible, as if she could resist if she chose. She moved one arm, felt the pressure increase slightly, and reminded herself not to struggle.

  The rooms were on the first floor, well above the ground, but it took almost no time for Amaya to reach the paved plaza. She stumbled as her feet touched the ground, felt the invisible hand steady her, and turned to watch Edmund and Elinor descend. Edmund took a few awkward steps as she had, but Elinor alit with grace, as if she had done this a thousand times. Likely that was true.

  It was full dark, but lanterns lit the palace’s façade, giving Amaya a clear view of the plaza and the streets beyond. Gunfire, and shouting, dispelled the illusion of a placid, warm summer night. The noise was loudest to the southeast, and Amaya looked that way and saw beyond the buildings lining the streets the glow of a dozen fires. Her heart longed to race through the streets until she found Valencia, but she calmed her impatience. Elinor would need defending, and it was irresponsible of Amaya to go running off into the darkness.

  Finally, it was Sir John’s turn to be Moved, and Lord Enderleigh stepped out of the window behind him and Flew
, not down to join them, but up to hover near the roof. Amaya shielded her eyes against the setting sun to watch him. He appeared to be scanning the distance.

  “Come, Amaya,” Elinor said. “Miles will follow.”

  Amaya climbed into the nearest carriage, where Sir William and Lady Kynaston already sat. Edmund and Elinor followed, making the carriage very crowded. “There were not enough carriages available,” Sir William said, rather apologetically. “I fear it will be a tight ride.”

  “So long as everyone is safe, I daresay we can endure,” Elinor said. “Lord Winder Dreamed while we prepared for evacuation, and his Sight suggested this was the best course of action.”

  “It chafes me—” Edmund fell silent, his lips pressed tightly together.

  Elinor glanced his way. “I as well,” she said. “But—”

  The carriage jerked into motion, throwing Elinor into Amaya. Elinor put a hand on the window to steady herself. “But it is the only reasonable course of action,” she continued. “It is not as if we can seek out El Encendedor and attack him directly. There are too many of us to protect.”

  A light thump sounded from the carriage roof as of something large alighting on it. “I will ride outside in case we must fight our way through,” Lord Enderleigh called out. “But it seems much of the fighting is happening at a distance, to the southeast, and we travel west.”

  The noise of the carriage wheels nearly drowned out his words as well as any sound of fighting. Amaya could almost imagine this a peaceful ride into the country, though one in which no pedestrians thronged the streets. The people of Madrid had either hunkered down to withstand the battle or rushed to join the fight. Amaya leaned out to watch the buildings pass, tall and stony and impassive as if they knew they would be here long after their inhabitants were dead. It was an unsettling idea, but she did not withdraw, preferring to see her enemies approach.