I thought I saw the Commissioner clench his teeth, just for a moment. Frustrated, perhaps. “Let the soldiers worry about controlling the horses while you channel.”
“And how long will our Pairs be expected to linger performing this difficult task?” Sato asked sharply.
“Someone there needs to be able to make that call.”
“I will,” said Zoffany.
“With respect,” said the Commissioner, “this conflict is not the place for the Premier Pair.”
“And why is that?” Sato asked coolly.
“You’ll be a target, and if you die, it will be terrible for morale.”
That was a little callous. The words suggested the worst repercussion of the death of the Premier Pair would be the impact it would have on others, not the loss of them personally.
Sato scowled.
After a moment, the Commissioner said, “The longer we linger, the more time we give Gifford to act.”
“Fine,” Sato said shortly. “Karish, can you assume this responsibility?”
“Yes, sir.”
So Taro was required to channel and watch out for the others at the same time.
“Deputy Commissioner Khouri, gather one hundred to travel with the Pairs,” the Commissioner ordered. “All of them to be supplied with flags and lanterns. Source Karish, opening and closing the shutters of the lanterns five times means to proceed, three to retreat. If you happen to be still working when dawn comes, two flags means to proceed and one flag means to retreat. Assistant Commissioner Perovic, you’ll get everyone else moving to Slick Side. Assistant Commissioner Barhom, please show Source Karish and Shield Mallorough where the Pairs have been stationed. Browne, Murdoch, I’ll leave the healers and casters in your hands.”
“Sir, what about the residents of Cracked Plains?” Deputy Commissioner Khouri asked. “They’re refusing to leave.”
“Then they’ll have to live with the consequences of their decision. We can’t afford to waste any more time on them. Now, if you would all see to your duties.”
We all left the tent swiftly.
“I’m relieved to have you back, Source Karish, Shield Mallorough,” Barhom said as she escorted us through rows of tents.
That was odd. “We’ve never met,” I said.
She grinned. “Your reputations precede you.”
As they always did.
The Pairs were the only ones standing still among a camp full of people who were suddenly engaged in taking all of the tents apart and loading wagons. It was wonderful to see them. People I’d worked with, to whom I hadn’t had to lie.
Santham was the first to rush forward, taking Taro’s hand and shaking it vigorously. “We’d heard you were here,” he said. “Thank Zaire.”
“We just got here,” Taro commented.
“Word travels fast around here,” said Devereaux, striding up behind Santham. “It’s almost like being back at the Academy.”
As the Pairs gathered around us, I saw there were some missing from the group I had worked with in Shidonee’s Gap, and some I had never seen before.
“I’m afraid we haven’t got time for a proper reunion,” Taro said bluntly. “We’ve been ordered to create a ravine between here and Cracked Plains.” He quickly relayed the details of the task. “Now, has anyone been in this area before?”
No one answered in the affirmative, so that struck out the possibility of any of the other Pairs developing an event right in the middle of Gifford’s camp. It wasn’t something many Pairs could do, creating an event beyond their sight. “All right, then, Mallorough and I will attack the camp directly.”
A young soldier ran up to us, gasping. “The Emperor’s forces are moving right now!”
Someone had discovered the sentries Mazin and Postel had killed, no doubt, or Taro’s and my absence. It seemed odd that that would be enough to make the Emperor – or Green – change their plans. “Are they attacking Cracked Plains?” I asked.
“It seems more like they’re getting ready to ride straight through it.”
Damn it. The Commissioner had been right.
All of us, all of the Pairs, ran through the tents to the horses that had been picketed at the edge of the camp. While most of the horses were being prepared for the retreat, others were saddled and clearly waiting for us.
I hated riding in the dark.
Each of us was supplied with a lit lantern. That would let Gifford’s people know we were coming, but they had to be carrying lanterns as well, so that cancelled any disadvantage.
Still, I had the suspicion no one really knew what they were doing. Now that some kind of clash seemed certain, everyone was just sort of scrambling about.
Taro shouted, “Get on your horses and let’s go!”
It would be suicidal to prod our horses into a gallop, but our slow pace made me nervous. How long was it taking Gifford’s people to get organized? How many would they be bringing?
Were we all going to be dead in an hour?
We didn’t go far, not as far as the Commissioner had told us to. I didn’t know how Taro chose where to call a halt. We didn’t see any lanterns coming from the other direction.
“We’re going to have to work here,” Taro called to the others. “Spread out, but stay in sight of at least one other Pair. Gifford’s people will fight our efforts, so be prepared for that.” After a pause, he said, “I want two Pairs at each location. One to create the ravine, one to fight off attacks from Gifford’s Pairs, should it become necessary.”
He’d just come up with that idea right then, but I thought it was a good one.
The others trotted off in quartets, some to the north, some to the south. From the movement of the lanterns, I knew they dismounted. No doubt they, as Taro and I did, handed the reins of their horses to the soldiers who had silently accompanied us all.
“Can I have your name?” Taro politely asked one of the soldiers who had lingered with us.
“Lieutenant Skirn, sir.”
“Can you give the signal to proceed?”
“Yes, sir.”
It took a few moments before the signal made it through the line of Pairs. Then the ground beneath us started rumbling.
“Ready?” Taro asked me.
“Of course.”
Of the events Taro could perform, he chose to create a cyclone. The effects of moving the ground were pretty much limited to the area being shifted. A cyclone could be vicious, throwing about people, horses, and equipment.
It was likely that many of Gifford’s people were in Cracked Plains, but we couldn’t attack the city itself. It was full of residents who weren’t involved in the clash. Still, destroying everything back at the camp, injuring personnel, damaging supplies, that would be a crippling blow as well.
Taro’s shields went down. Mine went up. Taro plucked out some of the forces from around him, funnelled them through him, and aimed them at the camp on the other side of Cracked Plains.
I could almost see it in my head: the forces, thin and gray, swirling into the air, pushing it in circles.
And then, out of nowhere, a wall of orange appeared in my mind. A barrier to Taro’s forces.
“Tenneson!” Taro snarled.
“Since when was he able to stop you in a genuine challenge?”
“He’s right there in the camp. Maybe that makes a difference.”
And right then, I got a flash of insight into a similar challenge in another city, when Taro, with our relatively recent bond, was able to fend off the attacks of a senior Source who was possibly as talented as Taro.
The ground began to tremble and cracks appeared before us.
I heard the horses whinnying and snorting.
Taro aimed forces at the camp again. Tenneson’s barrier withstood the assault. Not as thoroughly as before, but Taro’s forces were still weakened. Perhaps Gifford’s camp was experiencing something, a stiff wind, but nothing like the destruction we’d been planning.
The darkness in the sky began to li
ghten, just a little. I could see the approach of Gifford’s people. They had more soldiers than we did. They could attack us physically while the Pairs challenged us mentally.
Why hadn’t we been given more soldiers?
That was it. We were all dead. The ravine was barely formed.
Taro swore and abruptly shifted his focus from the camp. Instead, he aimed his forces at the ground, just in front of one of Gifford’s horses, creating a hole small enough to be easily overlooked, but large enough that when the horse stepped into it, it tripped and fell with a squeal, throwing its rider.
“Not the ravine!” Taro shouted. “Cripple the horses!”
We didn’t have a signal for that.
The Pairs closest to us heard, though, and the message was relayed.
Following Taro’s example, the Pairs created small fissures in the path of Gifford’s horses. They weren’t always effective – some horses merely jumped over – but it worked often enough that the air was filled with the heartbreaking cries of the animals, and those riders who were still in control of their horses pulled them up to a halt. Once they were still, the Pairs’ efforts were useless.
“Back to the ravine!” Taro shouted.
I could see people among Gifford’s group dismounting, putting their lanterns on the ground. Casters, I was sure, kneeling to spread their ingredients about so they could grab them up easily in order to move from cast to cast, should they need to.
They were in for an unpleasant surprise.
The ravine grew longer, wider, deeper.
The sky grew lighter.
Tenneson tried to stop Taro’s efforts with the ravine, but the orange barrier had faded away, and Taro pushed his forces through his. He now had the advantage of proximity.
Gifford’s soldiers seemed to be waiting for their Pairs and casters to subdue us.
The casters, of course, were accomplishing nothing.
Some of their horses bolted.
The ravine grew wider and longer.
And then something truly unexpected happened.
The casters suddenly broke and ran. Just leapt up, leaving their lanterns and their supplies on the ground, and fled back towards Cracked Plains. Some got on horses and recklessly galloped away. Those without mounts retreated on foot.
I imagined they’d just realised their casts didn’t work. So at least in this instance, the human ashes didn’t grant them extra strength.
Their Pairs noticed, of course. They broke off their engagements. All of the Pairs around me relaxed. On the far side of the ravine, Gifford’s Pairs abandoned their positions and scrambled back. Mere moments later, I could see the soldiers riding off, too, no doubt confused about why the others were leaving but unwilling to face us on their own, greater numbers notwithstanding.
Gifford was going to be furious.
I felt no sense of superiority over them. We probably would have panicked, too, if we’d been relying on our casters and only right then learned that they were powerless.
I looked at Taro. “Now what?” Did we continue working on the ravine or go back and join the others?
Taro ran a hand through his hair. “We were ordered to create a ravine,” he said. “So we will.”
I wished I had an idea of what Gifford would do next. Would he scream at everyone and order them back to us? Would he decide, instead, to spend the time to ransack Cracked Plains? Would he retreat back to some place where casting worked?
“Forget the lanterns,” Taro ordered. They were losing effectiveness with the sunrise, anyway. “Use the flags.”
It was almost pretty, the way the flags were raised and lowered along the line.
Taro had gambled correctly. No one opposed our Pairs, which meant the deepening and widening of the ravine proceded much more quickly. Under their own initiative, perhaps reassured by the strengthening sunlight that enabled them to see other Pairs at greater distances, the Pairs spread out further. Before me, the ravine grew too wide to jump over and too steep to ride into. I couldn’t see how long it was.
Perhaps Taro could feel it, though, and perhaps that was what told him when to shout out, “Enough!”
Skirn raised his flag.
Instead of going straight back in the direction taken by the rest of the Triple S forces, the other Pairs raced to Taro and me. This was reassuring, as it allowed us to see that the other Pairs and their escorts were fine. It also made it clear that we needed to make better plans, decide what we were going to do once a clash was over or if something went wrong.
With the sun fully in the sky, we rode west at a gallop. We needed to tell the Commissioner and the Premier Pair what had happened as soon as possible.
Gods, I was tired.
It felt like it didn’t really take long to get to the Triple S’s new camp. Had they gone far enough? I had no idea. A soldier had been stationed to look out for us, waving to draw our attention as we rode up. We gathered in a group around him, and he looked at Taro. “The Commissioner needs a report immediately.”
Taro nodded wearily and dismounted. I followed suit. We left our horses with the lieutenant and the soldier escorted us to the Commissioner’s pavilion. Those we passed watched us but didn’t ask us any questions. Perhaps they thought the Commissioner should hear the news first.
The Premier Pair were waiting with the Commissioner, as well as Deputy Commissioner Khouri and a soldier I hadn’t been introduced to.
Not bothering with any greetings or expression of relief at our return, the Commissioner asked, “Well?”
“It worked,” Taro answered. “I think.”
The Commissioner raised an eyebrow at him.
Taro gave him the details of the encounter. The Commissioner interrupted a few times, asking questions. He seemed satisfied with our results. He was particularly interested in our ability to cripple the horses.
I let myself wince when they discussed that part.
Once it was clear that the Commissioner was finished with us, Sato said to me, “You’ll be escorted to your tent so you can rest. Then we’ll be discussing your time with Gifford.”
I wanted to sigh. Of course we would. And, really, I knew it was necessary. It was just that it was going to take hours.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Taro and I had nothing with us. Not even a brush for our hair. We’d been pulled away with the clothes we wore, our purses, and the pouch that held my store of casting supplies. If bedding and a lantern hadn’t been supplied, the tent would have been empty.When we sat on the floor, I was almost ready to cry.
But I wasn’t given the chance. The entrance to our tent was flipped open. Aryne charged in, Druce following more sedately.
Aryne didn’t wait for me to stand. She just bowled me over in a tackle. “Leavy!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded in shock.
“Love you, too, Leavy. Shintaro!”
Taro was prepared and larger than me so he didn’t end up in an undignified sprawl on the floor.
Aryne had gotten taller.
“Good day, Druce,” I said, and she smiled. “I’m sorry we have nothing to offer you.” Not even water.
She shrugged as she sat on the floor, folding her legs. “This one should be in bed but she insisted on seeing you first.”
“Don’t say this one like that,” Aryne snipped. “You’re not my mother.”
“We should all be in bed,” said Taro. He put a hand on Druce’s shoulder. “Druce, it isn’t actually good to see you. Why are you two here?”
“Everyone finally admitted I’m part of the Imperial family,” Aryne announced. “Took them long enough.”
“Long enough?” I echoed.
“It wasn’t as though I didn’t already know. There were a thousand hints. Bringing me to the Empress was an enormous one.”
I couldn’t deny that. “But you kept it to yourself all this time? You never wrote about it.”
“Shintaro told me not to. Not to write anything, not to tell anyone. I
mean, not about that specific thing, because that he didn’t tell me.” She shot Taro a hard look. “Just anything that made me appear really different from the others. Though I told Druce, of course.”
“And you believed her?” I asked Druce.
That prompted another slight smile from Aryne’s Source. “My life was thrown off axis from the moment I was shoved off my feet by this one. It wasn’t hard to believe she was strange in other ways. And it was a good thing I did. All her crazy stories turned out to be true.”
Taro was getting impatient. “This doesn’t explain why you’re here. It’s too dangerous.”
“Their plan is to get Gifford off the throne,” Aryne said baldly. “They figure I might be able to replace him. They’ve been training me up for years, haven’t they? This one,” she gestured at Druce, “got into it, too. I never had any fun at all.”
“Don’t get used to exaggerating,” Druce warned her. “It’s not persuasive outside of a play.”
Aryne stuck her tongue out at her. “They figure I’ve got a chance. I’ve got the right blood. I know the code. They’ve been preparing me for it.”
Most titleholders had a family code, passed down – usually – from titleholder to heir. Sometimes the titleholder told more than one person, heir or not. Taro’s mother had gotten her hands on the Karish code, despite being passed over by the earlier titleholders, Taro’s father and elder brother. She had been able to give it to Taro, expecting that he would use it to get the Westsea title. He hadn’t been chosen by the Duke as an heir, either, but many would have seen him as the natural recipient.
I’d never understood why the Dowager Duchess hadn’t used the code herself, why she hadn’t wanted the title. She could have taken it.
Most families kept a solicitor who always knew the code, to confirm the right of the heir to inherit. Instead of meeting the Karish solicitor, Taro had given the code to Fiona.
Solicitors who tried to take advantage of their knowledge to get a title usually landed in prison. Anyone else with the code had at least a shot at the title, heir or not.
While Taro had known the Imperial code for years – Empress Constia had told him – I never had. It was his secret to keep. But as far as I had known, he hadn’t told anyone else, either. “When did you give Aryne the code?” I asked him.
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