by Jordan Rivet
Siv hesitated only for the briefest instant. Few things had gone his way of late, but he wasn’t going to reject such a gift. “Very well,” he said. “I hope your men are ready for a fight.”
Captain Lian saluted and charged off to gather the soldiers under his command. Siv thought there were about sixty of them. He and Captain Lian had spent a friendly evening getting drunk together. His men had found it highly amusing that Siv had masqueraded as a pen fighter for a few months. At least, he thought it was Lian’s group that had been so impressed. He didn’t remember too much about that particular evening.
Siv rejoined Dara and Latch on the lower level of the tower, where guards and a handful of the king’s Waterworkers were looking out over the battlements. The tower was located in the center of a small island, one of scores in the delta city of Pendark. Canals surrounded it, with an assortment of ornate bridges leading to the nearby islands. The Watermight attack was approaching from all sides, forcing waves of canal water before it. King’s Island was already half flooded.
“We have men,” Siv said, interrupting Dara and Latch’s discussion on magical combat tactics. “They need a few minutes to get to their horses. Can you hold off the attack until then?”
“The king’s Waterworkers will push back against the wave,” Latch said. “We’ll try to create a path through it.”
“How many men?” Dara asked. She was standing on her toes, watching the approaching silver-white wave as if it were a charging cullmoran.
“Should be around sixty,” Siv said. “Captain Lian told me—What happened to your shoes?” He had just realized Dara was literally standing on her bare toes.
“Left them on the balcony.”
“You can’t fight like that,” Siv said. “Go back and—”
“No time.” Dara didn’t seem remotely worried about her bare feet. Her whole body had taken on the intense focus that made her such a formidable duelist. She clutched the hilt of her Savven blade, readiness in every line of her body. Siv grinned. Dara wouldn’t let a little thing like bare feet stop her.
But that attack was going to give her a run for her firestones. A vast torrent of Watermight swelled toward them, as if every drop of water in the Black Gulf had been called into service. As more streams joined, they rose up, forming a wall of water that was quickly closing in on the tower. Khrillin was taking a risk by exposing this much power. He must not think the handful of Waterworkers in the king’s employ stood a chance against him.
Come to think of it, some of the tower Waterworkers were pulling back from the battlements as the silver-white wall drew nearer, muttering to each other. Siv caught the word “assassination” in the air. That wasn’t good. How many would stand and fight when they learned Khrillin had already taken out the king?
At least Captain Lian’s men were beginning to emerge from the tower, some looking more prepared than others.
“I’m going to lead the men out,” Siv said to his two companions. “Tell me when to open the gates.”
“Wait, I need Rumy,” Dara said. “I’m not much use without Fire.”
“I haven’t seen him since last night,” Latch said.
“You.” Siv snapped his fingers at one of Lian’s men, who had one arm through his coat sleeve, a saddlebag slung on the other. “I need every Firebulb you can find.”
“Fire—?”
“Yes. Get them to Lady Dara up here as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir!” The man charged off, and Siv addressed another one of his compatriots.
“Horses!” he said. “Bring out as many as you can saddle. We need to leave in a hurry.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Good. The rest of you: sharpen your weapons, and meet me in the courtyard. Be ready to ride in two minutes.”
“Where do we meet if we get split up, Sire?” asked Captain Lian, who hadn’t objected to Siv ordering his men around. He still hadn’t bothered to wipe the tears from his cheeks.
“The Darkwood.”
“Are you sure we should leave the city?” Dara said. “Selivia still isn’t—”
“I don’t know if Khrillin’s here for the tower or for us,” Siv said. “Either way, I don’t think we can wait for Sel and the dragon. Time’s up.”
Latch and Dara exchanged glances. They had been wary of each other at first, but since they began Working together, some of their awkwardness had evaporated. Siv liked seeing his two friends getting along, even if both of them tended to be terribly serious most of the time. That kind of thing came in handy with enemies on all sides.
“I agree,” Dara said at last. Siv knew she needed the Watermight the dragon was supposed to carry in order to defeat her father. They’d just have to figure out what to do about that later. “We’ll try to open a tunnel through the center of the attack.”
The Watermight was almost upon them. The last of the streams had linked, forming a liquid barrier all the way around the King’s Tower. It grew taller, matching the thirty-foot wall of Fire the Lantern Maker had once used to hold Square Peak hostage back in Vertigon. White flames seemed to dance within the silvery wall as the sun rose higher over Pendark. A few more of the castle Waterworkers melted into the shadows inside the tower.
“Are you sure we should ride out, King Siv?” Captain Lian asked, sparing a look of disgust for the deserters. “Those Waterworkers—”
“My lady Dara will get us through,” Siv said. “Just have your men ready to move when I say the word.”
“Yes, sir.” Captain Lian saluted and ushered the rest of his company down the steps to mount their horses.
Worry furrowed Dara’s brow. She didn’t doubt she’d succeed, did she? He wouldn’t have any of that.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
“My plan?”
“To defeat Khrillin.”
“Siv, it’s not that simple.”
“I’ve seen what you can do,” Siv said. To him, it was simple. Dara could take anyone. “I’ll ride with the men. Just say when.”
Dara gave him a look that could only be described as panicked. But he met her gaze steadily, and at last she turned to face the attack. Atta girl. He knew she could do it.
The assault slowed just before it reached them. Siv paused. The Watermight was still building up, but the wall hadn’t moved any closer than the edge of the island. It appeared to be several dozen feet thick by now.
Latch glowered at it with his customary disdain. “What are they waiting—?”
“Greetings, King Sivarrion, greetings!” A familiar voice blasted from the wall of silvery power like a thousand peals of thunder. “I mean you no harm.”
“You could have fooled me,” Siv said. He didn’t speak very loudly, but whatever Khrillin was doing to enhance his voice enabled him to hear Siv’s response.
A deep chuckle came from within the churning barrier. “I need you to know I am serious, my friend. Very serious.”
“What do you want?”
“I am about to take control of this fortress, assuming your dear old host is no longer with us.”
“That was a dirty trick,” Siv said. He looked down into the tower courtyard, where Captain Lian’s sixty men were preparing to ride. Their horses snorted and stamped. He hated to leave the King’s Tower shorthanded, but he didn’t see any way Khrillin would not end this day as the new king. “The king has done nothing but help us.”
“It was nothing personal,” Khrillin’s voice boomed from the wall of Watermight. “Now, to business: you have a young man in your company who holds a very important piece of information. You snatched him from right beneath my nose.”
Siv glanced at Latch, who looked as stoic as ever, except for the silver glow that had appeared beneath his fingernails and in the corners of his eyes.
“Now, I am a reasonable man,” Khrillin said. “I know you won’t give up your lady friend, given her fascinating talents.” He chuckled, making the wall of Watermight dance and shiver. “But I won’t even ask for her,
if you surrender young Lord Brach.”
“Not a chance,” Siv said.
“Do not misunderstand me, my young friend,” Khrillin purred. “This conversation is a courtesy. You don’t really have a choice. Take a look around. I have you surrounded, and not a single Wielder in that fortress can overcome this much power. You don’t want to get everyone killed, do you?”
Siv didn’t answer, thinking of a few choice curses he wanted to hurl at Khrillin.
“What do you think?” he asked Dara in a low voice. “You can take him, right?”
Dara gave him a startled look. “Just how powerful do you think I am?”
“He won’t stop with me,” Latch said. “In case you were considering giving me up.”
“I wasn’t,” Siv said, “but I agree.”
“How does he know about you?” Dara asked Latch.
“Kres March, probably,” Latch said. “They looked pretty friendly last time I saw them.”
“Sire!” Captain Lian’s man rushed back to them, carrying a sack over his shoulder, which emitted a faint golden glow. “These are all the Firebulbs I could find, Sire.”
“Excellent.” Siv took the sack and held it out to Dara. “Can you take him now?”
Dara grimaced, but she stuck both hands in the sack and began drawing in the Fire. Siv left her to her Work and turned back to the battlements.
“The friendship between Pendark and the Amintelles of Vertigon stands,” Siv called into the glittering barrier of magic. “I have no wish for future conflict between our lands, but I can’t agree to your terms this time.”
“So be it,” Khrillin called. At once, the wall of Watermight swelled and began to advance once more. “Please know this gives me no pleasure.”
“Sure it doesn’t, you silver-tongued panviper,” Siv muttered. He clapped Latch on the shoulder. “Don’t wait too long to follow.”
“Let us dance,” Latch muttered back.
Siv didn’t dare disturb Dara as she worked to draw in the Fire from the supply of Works. He hurried down the steps to the courtyard. Vine, Vex, and Rid were waiting, each with an extra horse on a lead. Siv vaulted onto the back of a dun stallion, took the reins from Rid, and waved to Captain Lian. “Get ready to ride for the Darkwood the moment my lady says the word.”
Captain Lian saluted and urged the last of his men into their saddles.
Siv looked up at Dara, who stood at the battlements, her hair glowing like Firegold in the morning sunlight, her body quivering with Fire. “Ready when you are!”
3.
Flood
DARA’S blood sizzled as Fire filled her. She welcomed the sensation, the intensity, the pure gold power of it. She surveyed the churning mass of Watermight surrounding the King’s Tower. The wall had thickened, making it feel as though the tower was at the center of a massive whirlpool.
Siv gave orders in the courtyard below, preparing to burst out of the gates with Captain Lian and his soldiers. If Dara didn’t make a path for them, they would all drown. But far more magic raged out there than the last time she fought with both Watermight and Fire, and she still had trouble balancing the concentration and emotion necessary to control the two powers. She wasn’t sure she could do this. Worse, if she couldn’t control the magical substances now, she had no hope against her father, with his lifetime of experience.
Worry about that later. You have no choice right now. Dara faced down the wall of power, steeling herself against her misgivings. Siv believed she could do it. She wouldn’t let doubts assail her.
She struggled to rally herself as the Fire boiled in her veins. You’re a Ruminor, damn it. Act like one.
Beside her, Latch pulled Watermight away from the seething mass beyond the battlements, the effort making sweat pop out on his forehead. He was a skilled combatant, but no single Waterworker could produce as much force as Dara could when she combined the two substances. As they had practiced, Latch would transmit the Watermight to Dara in battle whenever she struggled to draw it in herself. The attack was up to her.
“Ready when you are!” Siv called from below.
Latch turned crisply on his heel and sent a stream of Watermight streaking for Dara’s face. She opened her mouth and swallowed it down as quickly as she could, shuddering as the icy substance hit her stomach.
Fire and Watermight danced within her body, churning like a whirlpool full of white-hot nails. The Watermight wall outside was closing in, the top cresting like a terrible, frozen wave.
“Here it comes,” Latch grunted.
“Protect our position!” Dara called. “I’ll make an opening.”
She leaned over the battlements, the stones rough beneath her hands, and concentrated on the spot closest to the gates, preparing a bolt of power to bore an opening. She squinted at the sheer, shimmering surface. Was the Watermight thicker there than in the rest of the wall? Khrillin must anticipate that they would try to punch through.
The wave of power emitted a dull roar as the crest tipped over and rushed inward. The few remaining tower Waterworkers raised their hands, trying to hold off the assault. But it wouldn’t be enough. Everyone in this tower was doomed unless Dara could stop it all.
Then the gates burst open below, and Siv led the charge with a wordless cry. The Pendarkan riders followed, mud flying as they thundered straight for the wall of Watermight. It was too soon! Too much was happening at once. Dara was losing focus. Where was Vine? They couldn’t leave without Vine. How would they get in touch with Princess Selivia and the true dragon without her?
Don’t think about that. One problem at a time.
But Dara couldn’t stop the cascade of worries. The Watermight bearing down reminded her of the night her father used a similar wall of Fire to threaten Square Peak and seize Vertigon. She hadn’t even tried breaking through that wall, knowing it would be useless. Had she come far enough in her training yet? What if she couldn’t do it?
“Easy,” Latch growled at her, perhaps sensing the way the power was careening within her. “Focus.”
She was supposed to be rallying her emotions, using them to achieve balance, not letting her fears overwhelm her.
“This is it, Dara. You have to strike.”
Latch was right. None of her worries mattered if they were trapped in Pendark.
Still not quite in control of the two substances, Dara created a battering ram of pure Fire and sent it streaking toward the wall. She welcomed the rush as the molten power flowed through her hands. She knew how to do this. She was strong when she held Fire. She would prove that she was stronger even than Siv believed she could be.
The magic seethed, the heat seductive. She wasn’t just going to get them out. She was going to break Khrillin’s power once and for all.
Below her, Siv was shouting as the riders poured across the island after him, heading directly at the wall of Watermight. But they were charging at the thickest part directly outside the gates, where Khrillin would be expecting them.
At the last instant, Dara shifted the direction of her attack and aimed her fiery battering ram at a farther section of the wall. The Fire curved in the air and shot like a bar of gold toward the weaker point. Blinding light flared as the Fire connected with the Watermight barrier. Dara increased the pressure. Fire and Watermight combusted in flash after flash of white radiance. Even more Watermight poured down to fill the hole, but the Fire cut into the wall bit by bit.
Siv and the others reacted quickly. Horses snorted, and mud flew up beneath their hooves as they turned to run for the spot Dara had chosen for their escape. The riders should end up near enough to a bridge across the canal.
“Get ready to retreat!” she called to Latch.
The Fire flowed from her hands, but the Watermight barrier was still resisting. She needed more power. She didn’t just want to make a tunnel. She was going to break that wave completely.
She signaled to Latch and opened her mouth again. He sent another stream of Watermight straight to her. She gulped it
down, resisting the urge to throw up. The Watermight froze her insides, icing along her bones. She let the cold spread, let it ooze nearer to the Fire in her veins, but she didn’t let it combust. She would need every ounce of it to destroy that wall.
When Latch had sent her as much Watermight as she could hold, she jerked her head, and he sprinted down the steps to the courtyard. All the riders had made it outside the walls by now except for Vine, Vex, and their spare horses. Latch leapt onto his and seized the reins.
Outside the walls, the company led by Siv and Captain Lian had almost reached the hole Dara had opened with her bar of Fire. They were running full-speed toward it, trusting that Dara would make a way for them. Elsewhere, the King of Pendark’s last remaining Waterworkers were barely keeping the attack from the walls. They wouldn’t resist for much longer. Khrillin would be their king soon enough.
Unless Dara had something to say about it. How dare he challenge her with Watermight alone? She clutched the battlements hard. It was time to show him. She just had to break through the Watermight barrier. Now.
But instead of punching through to the other side, the opening began to shrink. Dara’s body shuddered as the twin powers tore through her, her vision wavering. What was wrong? The riders were almost to the gap, but her ram hadn’t broken through yet. She didn’t understand. She was stronger with both powers. Khrillin couldn’t stop her.
Then it hit her: she was not in control. Her emotions were all over the place: fear, determination, pride, anxiety, rage. The magic substances roared within her. Shards of ice, tongues of flame, blistering, freezing pain. She could barely see. Barely think. Barely move.
Siv is counting on you. You have to make a way for him.
She knew what she had to do, but the power overwhelmed her, cutting, burning, slicing, consuming. It was spinning, spiraling. She had to stop it. She had to . . . had to focus. Where was Siv? What was she supposed to be doing again? She couldn’t concentrate.
Screams rose around her. The Watermight wave tumbled over the walls as the king’s Waterworkers gave up and fled for shelter. Watermight poured into the tower in two places, three, four, sweeping the defenders off their feet.
