In the flickering lantern light, Tavi could see that the three officers in back had their own hand cannons propped on their legs or tucked under their arms as they worked to strike matches for their partners’ weapons. But just as Officer Andisis had said, it took too long. Before any of the weapons were ready, the Golds reached the officers.
Tavi’s training came back in an instant. She grasped the barrel of the weapon closest to her then dropped into a forceful squat. Like an unanchored lever, the hand cannon flew out of the officer’s hands, tumbling end over end, landing on the room’s hard-packed dirt floor.
The officer was momentarily stunned, and Tavi used that opportunity to sneak around him and confront the woman behind him. That officer had a better grip on her weapon, and if she’d thought to use it as a club, she might have fought Tavi off. But instead, she was struggling to get it in position to aim it at Tavi. It was pointless, as she’d never have time to light a match and shoot the thing. Like before, Tavi grasped the iron barrel of the weapon, but this time, she shoved it toward the woman’s abdomen. It connected hard, and with a grunt, the officer released it and fell to the ground.
Tavi kept hold of the hand cannon. She turned and realized her mistake. There were five Golds and six officers, and she’d failed to keep an eye on anyone but the person she was fighting. The first officer she’d disarmed was coming toward her. Tullen was using his left hand to grasp the man’s sleeve and his right hand to throw a punch at another officer. Tavi’s original adversary easily pulled free from Tullen’s grasp.
Tavi jabbed the hand cannon at the man. There wasn’t much power in the movement, but the man’s hands came up in response. Tavi sent a knee into the man’s groin. Apparently that was her signature move now; she wasn’t proud of it, but it had worked against Konner, and it was just as effective against the officer. He went down.
Tavi looked around, then stumbled back, realizing the female officer she’d fought was pushing herself up. Instinct took over, and Tavi saw her foot go into the woman’s chin, sending her back to the ground.
Three of the other four officers were on the ground, though Tavi had no idea how they’d gotten there. One still stood, and as Tavi watched, Ash threw a hard punch at the man’s jaw. The officer crumpled.
“Let’s go!” Sall shouted.
The fight must have taken far less time than Tavi had thought; the last of the refugees still weren’t in the tunnel. “Go, go, go!” Tavi urged them. She heard the words repeated in the tunnel itself, and in less than half a minute, the entrance was clear for Tavi, Tullen, Narre, Ash, and Sall.
Once they were in the tunnel, Narre looked back. “One of them is coming!” she said.
Tavi’s eyes widened. Narre’s hand began to glow, but she wasn’t the only one activating her touch gift. Ven had waited there for them, and Tavi watched as Narre jumped on the former monk’s back. There was no time to figure out what the two of them were up to, because the officer’s silhouetted form was charging toward them, and he’d almost reached the tunnel.
“I’ve got him!” Tavi and Tullen cried in unison. Tavi was still holding a hand cannon. She threw herself at the officer, targeting his knees with the butt of the weapon, and one of Tullen’s long legs extended in a kick that connected with the man’s chest. The officer went down hard.
“Come on!” Narre said.
Tavi dropped the weapon and leapt back in the tunnel with Tullen, and Narre cried out as she pressed her palms hard against the ceiling of the tunnel. Her magic, amplified by Ven’s hands, caused the ceiling to crack in four places in the shape of a rough rectangle. Narre yanked her hands away, and a huge block of stone dropped to the ground, obstructing most of the tunnel’s entrance.
Light from the single lantern in the room beyond filtered around the edges of the block. Narre pressed her hands up twice more, sending loose rocks to fill the open spaces. Then she jumped off Ven’s back, and they all stared at each other, unmoving.
The only light in the tunnel came from Narre’s and Ven’s still-glowing hands. It was enough illumination for Tavi to see the expressions on her friends’ faces. Relief. Shock. Fear.
Tavi let out an odd sound; she wasn’t sure whether it was a sob or a laugh. The stillness broken, she, Tullen, Narre, and Sall all drew each other into one great, awkward embrace. Tavi was relieved to realize Ash had already proceeded down the tunnel.
“Ven!” Narre shouted. “Get over here!”
With a shy smile, he added his arms to the tangle.
There were three jugs of water and a bag of dried meat in the tunnel, left behind by Ash’s team. It wasn’t nearly enough; in the week since they’d begun constructing the tunnel, the group’s numbers had grown to fifty-two. Tavi’s mind raced. They had to finish the tunnel, get into the open, and get their people to safety and sustenance.
The group rushed through the mile and a half of completed tunnel, which was lined with dense balls made from the displaced earth. When they reached the end, the crew worked as long as they could to extend the passage. When someone’s magic ran out, that person took a break, then got back to work as soon as they could. The rest of the refugees and Golds supported the crew by using their magic to cast light in the tunnel.
After eighteen hours, Ven’s magic finally reached its limit. The crew stopped working and encouraged everyone in the tunnel to take a swallow of water, then sleep.
Echoing cries of children filled the tunnel, stopping when the speech-blessed woman sang. Tavi drifted to sleep but later woke, panting, having dreamed of more officers chasing them through the forest. She found that most of the tunnel crew was already awake.
“Let’s go,” Ash said.
“We did a third of a mile yesterday,” the twice-blessed woman said.
“That means we’re in the forest by now,” Ash said. “We don’t need a full two miles; let’s finish this thing.”
Two hours later, they broke through the surface and emerged into the soft light of dawn. Sure enough, they were in the forest, where the tunnel exited between two trees. Based on the number of roots Narre had pulverized in the last stages of digging, Tavi guessed the trees might not stand for much longer.
Fifty-two dirty people soon stood on the forest floor. Tullen ran off to find water, then led them all to a spring.
They were hungry, and Tullen bemoaned his lack of a bow. When Tavi had disarmed the first guard, one of the refugees had taken the man’s hand cannon. But the pellet and powder had spilled out, and there was no way to shoot it. As a group, they resigned themselves to their hunger and walked in the direction of the monastery.
They continued through the trees, Tullen pointing out anything edible, mostly roots and herbs. After a couple of hours, they came across a few trees sporting antlerfruit growths. Those with knives carved off as much of the fungus as possible, and Tullen showed them all how to peel and eat it. About half of them were desperate enough to choke the stuff down, and one young woman even said it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. Tavi didn’t trust the woman’s claims, though; the refugee had been flirting with Tullen since she’d arrived.
Before midday, the foothills rose in front of them. They continued to drink at fresh streams, but due to hunger and lack of rest, the trip already felt long. Tullen activated his stride gift and began ferrying the youngest refugees up hills, running so fast that the children screamed with delight. Tavi watched him, feeling a twinge of embarrassing envy. Tullen was in his element out here, using his gift to fly across the ground, charming everyone with his personality. She pushed away the desire that flared in her chest, pretty sure she’d caught it before it lit her up with magic.
At last, they were on the mountain itself. Knowing the main trail might still be blocked by snow, they made their way to Narre’s Path. A new energy filled the refugees when they saw the zigzagging trail carved out of the mountainside. As they made their way along the path, it grew dark. Many of them activated their magic, their glowing hands, noses, and mouths creating
points of light in the blackness. Tavi’s mind returned to the night she’d gazed at the stars, thinking of how many resisters were out there that she didn’t yet know. And now she was traveling with a little constellation of them. She swallowed back tears.
Despite the impressiveness of Narre’s Path, everyone was beyond relieved when they reached the pilgrim cottages next to the monastery. They made their way between the little houses, attracting attention from a few pilgrims who seemed happy for a distraction after their contemplative winter on the mountain.
The courtyard gate was locked for the night, but Ven walked around to a window on the lower level of the monastery. He knocked. A monk pulled back the curtain and saw Ven’s smiling face, then let the fabric fall.
They all waited, growing more worried as the minutes passed. A quarter hour. A half hour. Most of them wore coats, since the catacombs were too chilly for shirtsleeves, but many of them didn’t have hats, and even fewer had gloves. Behind her, Tavi heard stamping feet and tired complaints.
At last, the gate’s lock rattled. Tavi tried not to let her excitement and anxiety show. If the monks didn’t let them in, they didn’t have a backup plan.
The gate opened. Bea, the monk they’d met upon their arrival to the monastery nearly four months earlier, stood there with lantern in hand. Her eyes widened.
“Your group has grown,” she said.
Tavi nodded. “Refugees.”
“Well, you’d better come in.”
Bea spun around and began walking toward the monastery. Tavi exchanged glances with her friends, and they all followed.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I still haven’t seen anyone with gray magic. It’s a frightening concept, yet I want to see it for myself. Are there many people in Savala who have this new magic? Mother says anyone with gray magic is a murderer, and she shames me for being fascinated. But I cannot help my curiosity. Perhaps they are murderers, but they have found magical freedom.
- Mika Stag to Erti Stag, from Year One: Correspondence in the Corminian Kingdom
Konner marched into Savala’s main office of safety and barreled past the front desk. The officer sitting there leapt out of his seat and ran up to Konner. He grabbed Konner’s shoulder and asked, “Sir? Can I help you?”
Konner didn’t stop or look at the pitiful young man. He merely said, “I’m the chief minister; get your hand off me.”
The officer obeyed. “Chief Minister Burrell, I apologize! I didn’t know. Welcome, sir.” His voice rose in volume as his esteemed guest moved toward the back of the room.
Konner ignored him. He marched all the way up the stairs and down two hallways. He didn’t stop until he’d pushed open the door of a large office and walked inside.
“Chief Minister!” The man at the desk stood. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Konner just raised an eyebrow and sat in front of the desk. He missed Garin Semovier, Savala’s former head safety officer. Konner had sent him to Tinawe to head up that city’s office of safety and to ensure that the citizens there were adequately supporting the new monarchy.
Semovier’s replacement, Osher Vogan, had been loyal to Konner for years, and Konner had shown his appreciation by providing Vogan with all manner of luxury goods. Now Vogan made a large enough salary that he could buy his own silk sheets and fine wines. He worshiped Konner and would do whatever the chief minister wanted.
Unfortunately, what Konner wanted was for Vogan to be competent, and Vogan found that impossible.
“Tell me what happened,” Konner said.
Vogan gave Konner a nervous smile. “A man came to us, telling us his neighbor had fled to some new community of Blessed in the catacombs.”
Konner interrupted, “I know all about that; I instructed you to gather information and follow up as necessary.”
“Yes sir, yes, we did. We sent a hearing-blessed officer there, someone who’s gotten his gray awakening, and he listened. He realized there was a rather large group of people living in a part of the catacombs closed to the public. His gift is quite powerful; he can—”
Konner tapped his fingers rhythmically on the desk.
Vogan cleared his throat. “Uh, to make a long story short, he realized some of the people from our wanted posters were part of the group. He heard someone say the name Tavi, and another person say the name Ash, and a couple of other names too.”
Konner closed his eyes and restrained himself from leaping over the desk to attack Vogan. It had taken the man two days to report his officers’ failure. Two days. And now Vogan was telling him the all-blessed girl had escaped again? Konner took a deep breath in and out before opening his eyes. “Tell me how they got away.”
Vogan sported another nervous smile. “Actually, one member of the team is downstairs; would you like to talk to him?”
“I’d like nothing more.”
Fifteen minutes later, the officer in question was sitting next to Konner and had recounted the story of his team’s failure. His swollen, black eye and bruised jaw bore testament to the truth of his tale.
“I won’t even address the embarrassing issue of six officers with hand cannons being brought down by unarmed amateurs, most of whom were children,” Konner said. “Instead, I’ll ask you to explain why, when an entire room full of people escaped through some tunnel, they weren’t followed.”
“I told you,” the officer said. “They blocked the entrance.”
“I’m not deaf,” Konner said. “You have an entire city full of safety officers, some of whom have gifts, a few of whom even have gray gifts. You’re telling me not one of them could have broken down whatever was blocking it? Or perhaps determined the tunnel’s path from aboveground? You’ve had two days!”
“Uh . . .” was the officer’s only response.
“Explain yourself. Using more than grunts.”
Vogan spoke up. “It was the first day of the new year. There were celebrations all over town. I was barely able to spare the six I originally sent.”
Konner reined in his fury and kept his attention on Vogan. “Get a team of gray-blessed officers and guards in that tunnel. I don’t care how. The best scenario is that these traitors are stuck underground in an incomplete tunnel. If that’s the case, you’ll have them cornered.
“However, if they’re no longer in the tunnel, you’ll have to find someone to track them. Maybe someone with a scent gift. Figure out where they went, then report back to me. Immediately.”
“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” Vogan said. “I’ll get right on that.”
“Good. I don’t know if you’ve noticed the thousands of posters around town,” Konner said, looking pointedly at the REWARD posters on the wall of Vogan’s office, “but you should know that Tavi Malin is of extraordinary importance to our kingdom. The other people on those posters will finally prove useful by providing gray awakenings to deserving officers and guards. If Tavi and her little group are, as you claim, traveling with dozens of people, that means they’ve gathered a group of rebels, likely intent on killing your king and queen, and possibly you as well. You have good reason to find them and to let me know the minute you’re successful.”
Vogan swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
Konner turned to the officer who’d participated in the raid. “No one from your team happens to be gifted, do they?”
With a proud smile, the officer said, “I’ve got a sight gift. I can see across long distances.”
Konner got up and stood directly over the man. “Vogan,” he said, “Arrest this man, and place him in a cell. I’m sure you have another officer somewhere who’d like a gray awakening. This man will assist with it.”
The safety officer next to Konner looked up, his eyes (even the swollen one) wide with terror. When he pushed himself out of his seat, Konner tackled him before he could take a step toward the door.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Why would Sava give us gifts (magical or otherwise) if he did not intend us to share them with others?
Tavi stretched luxuriously and yawned louder than she’d intended.
“Don’t get too used to that bed; it’s mine tonight,” Narre said.
Tavi smiled. “I’m enjoying it while I’ve got it.”
The bed was narrow, the mattress thin. But after sleeping on the floor of the catacombs for nearly two weeks, any cushioning felt decadent. Unfortunately, the monastery didn’t have enough beds for all their refugees. Some visitors were crammed into bedrooms and common rooms; others slept in pilgrim cottages. The cottage Tavi was staying in was designed for one person, but she shared it with Narre, Reba, and Wrey.
Food was a more serious concern than beds. So far, they’d been fine. Tullen had gone bow hunting on the mountain every day. A few refugees fished in a nearby river. But they were already low on flour and canned vegetables.
It was a symptom of a greater problem: They didn’t have a long-term plan for the refugees. For now, they were safe, far removed from insane seekers of gray magic in Savala. But spring was here; soon, the monks would send delegates to the city to refill everything they’d run out of during winter. Nearly all their food and supplies were donated by the city’s parishioners; what would happen when the monastery suddenly needed three times as much of everything? Would someone figure out what was happening and tell the authorities?
To make things worse, after two weeks in the monastery, many of the refugees were homesick. Youths who’d thought themselves old enough to leave home now missed their parents. Adults couldn’t wait to return to their children. After so many days away, the memory of terror was fading, and some of them were already talking about walking back to Savala.
One man had lamented, “We just wanted a safe place to stay in the city until things settled down. I never would’ve come if I’d known we were fleeing to this mountain.” The Golds understood, but they also knew once people started returning home, someone was bound to reveal who was still on the mountain.
Facing the Fire Page 32
