“What is this?” Durren demanded incredulously. “Go! Any who stand with the lawbreakers will be arrested with them!”
A few more joined the advance, but still, there was resistance. Small scuffles broke out within the constabulary’s ranks. The confusion gave the University mages time to throw up new shields, but they didn’t have the strength they’d had before; the barriers were smaller, less sturdy, and there were gaps between them now. Lefty threw out a shield of his own, and Greymond lent her strength to it, reinforcing the barricade. But Indree held back. The time for defenses was drawing to a close, and she meant to be ready.
Durren’s face was nearly purple. He’d never dealt well with frustration. “This is madness! All of you students could have bright futures ahead of you! Audland needs its mages! Are you going to throw your lives away for these degenerates? These… non-magicals? Any who lower their shields will be allowed to leave, and your loyalty will be remembered!”
A wave of Astral force rippled along the ground, forcing the constabulary to a halt as they threw up defenses. Some weren’t fast enough; through the gaps between shields, the spell knocked more than a few off their feet. Indree glanced to her side, where the spell had originated, and saw Bastian fluttering there, his hand extended, his round cheeks red with indignation.
“You, sir, do not speak for the Audland I love!” the little sprite shouted, his voice rising to an even higher pitch in his fury. “How dare you speak of loyalty! These are our people! Our friends! They are citizens as much as any mage, and no true Audlander would deny as much! We will not abandon them!”
Indree could have hugged him, just then, criminal or no.
“So be it,” Durren shouted, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. “Arrest them all!”
The constables were still picking themselves up when a little green figure blurred forward from beside Indree, leading the charge. “For Audland!” Bastian cried, hurling another force-spell at the constable’s shields.
“For Audland!” Behind Indree, the cry echoed across the gathered crowd, growing in strength. Silver Dawn agents and University mages and armed men and women of all kinds surged forward to meet the constables—and the Knights of the Emperor, who were moving forward again as well. Any attempt to pretend they weren’t working together had been abandoned.
Indree was among the first into the fray, baton and pistol in hand. Shields were already breaking in the chaos, and trying to hold a firm line became quickly irrelevant anyway as ally and enemy mingled. It was a melee now, bodies piling on bodies, weapons swinging everywhere. Silver flashed as spells flew back and forth, cords of magic grabbing fighters on both sides, waves of force bowling people down, spellfire burning men and women where they stood. The back ranks of the constabulary fell into disorder as those Indree had managed to sway turned on their own. It was becoming difficult to tell friend from foe.
She projected her voice over the din of battle, hoped it would reach the people who needed to hear it. “Anyone who isn’t with Durren, let us know! Take off your caps!” And more than a few listened, snatched the blue caps from their heads and tossed them aside.
Audish and Belgrian ships along the shore began lowering ramps onto the seawall wherever they could. Men and women in Audish blue and white rushed in throwing spells, adding their magical strength to that of the University mages. But it wasn’t only the magical, or the Audish. Soldiers in uniforms of Rhienni red and blue and even Belgrian crimson filed down the ramps, weapons in hand. Some few wore glowing talismans at the shoulder, but not nearly all of them. Those who still could marched into battle despite the siphon’s drain, with no protection at all. Indree even recognized the man at the head of the Belgrian column, shouting orders in his native tongue—Henred Klenn, Kadka’s father. He’d come to her aid once before when she’d needed it, secreting her and Tinga out of the kaiser’s palace in Stelihn. Apparently he’d decided to make it a habit.
Yesterday most of these people were ready to go to war with us. Endo had done everything he could to turn their nations against one another, but at least for a moment he’d made them allies instead. Uneasy allies, maybe, but I’ll take it right now.
She threw herself into the fight. A dwarven constable—his cap still firmly in place—rushed at her, firing his pistol as he closed. She noted the silver bindings grabbing the man beside him, and didn’t bother to dodge. The energy of the stray binding spell diverted the ancryst ball to the right, into the calf of an elf in a black cowl fighting nearby.
Indree returned fire, accounting for the magical field to curve the ball into the chest of another nearby bluecap—she’d always resisted that name, but it fit for these traitors who’d kept their caps. Uttering a quick spell, she sent a silver wave at the ankle of the dwarven bluecap, swept his legs out as he ran at her. He went down hard on his face. She cracked his head with her baton as she stepped over him, already pulling a fresh ancryst ball from her pocket, pre-packed with the paper charm and silver dust it needed to fire. Tucking her baton under one arm, she reloaded with practiced speed.
Ahead of her, a torrent of spellfire burned a goblin woman down to ash in an instant. Into the space left behind stepped Andus Durren.
He came at her, snarling. “You won’t defy me again, Lovial!” He hurled another wave of spellfire at her.
Indree blocked the silver flames with a quick shield, tightened her grip on her baton and pistol. An unfamiliar kind of satisfaction rose up in her gut, and she smiled, showing her teeth. Kadka’s influenced me more than I thought. “Come on then,” she said. “I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.”
Already chanting a spell, Indree charged.
_____
There was nowhere else to go, so Tane moved toward Endo. With slow, cautious steps, he closed the distance, waiting for some spell to grab him or throw him aside.
Endo rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t want you here, I wouldn’t have brought you aboard, Tane. Come, watch. It seems fitting for you to be here at the end. We began this journey together on the ancryst rail all those years ago, didn’t we?”
“I suppose so,” Tane said. Might as well humor him for now. As he approached, he took a mental inventory of his supplies—his charms and charm globe and not much else. Maybe just enough to distract Endo and take control, though, if he timed it right.
Endo glanced at the talisman in his shoulder. “Clever thing, that. And largely Astral-side magic, so my wards can’t stop it. I’ll need to examine it to devise a counterspell. But rather pointless, ultimately. It will run out of power long before my siphon does. And it looks rather uncomfortable. If you’d prefer, I can exclude you from the spell so you can take it off.”
“I’ll keep it, thanks,” said Tane. Exclude me? He’s given himself more control over this thing than Urnt had, then. No surprise there. He’d never let himself be so powerless. He came alongside Endo. Through the great glass panes at the fore of the bridge, he could see the shore, the ships gathering there, the tiny figures fighting along the waterfront. Closer by, Endo’s dragon caught up with Syllesk, forced her to veer away from the ship with a burst of dragonfire. The two began to circle each other, passing in and out of view from the bridge window. Iskar and Nevka—with Kadka on his back—were closing quickly as well, ahead and off to port. If any one of them could reach the Hesliar, it would change the odds substantially.
“As you please.” Endo wheeled his chair around to look out over the harbor once more, regarding the battling dragons outside with surprising calm. “I hope you aren’t relying on your friends to come for you. You are only here because I have allowed you to be. My dragon is more than capable of holding the others back, and of course the Hesliar has its own defenses.” He gestured demonstratively to the window, and an instant later a series of blasts sounded from the port side as the ancryst cannons there fired. Syllesk and Nevka were forced to veer away, passing out of sight once more. “And if you intend to try one of your little charms or artifacts, please, don’t bo
ther. The bridge is warded to prevent them from working.” He was telling the truth, Tane knew at once. Of course he’d have prepared for that.
Spellfire. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good,” Endo said. “I’d hate to have to dispose of you now. I would prefer that you see my new world before you die.”
“For a new world, it feels a lot like something I’ve seen before,” said Tane. “The villain gloating on the airship’s bridge. The last fellow got a little bit ahead of himself, as I recall.” It was a risk to spar with Endo, but making him angry might force a mistake, make him miss a beat that Kadka and the dragons could take advantage of. Presumably his puppets aboard the ship had fired the cannons, and Tane knew they could act autonomously, but even so, if Endo was too distracted to give direct orders, they might leave an opening. I hope he means it when he says he doesn’t want to kill me yet.
“Talain was a brilliant man, but overconfident. He underestimated you. I won’t make the same mistake. In fact, I have considered how you might interfere, and made plans accordingly. I should thank you for forcing me to be so thorough.” Endo glanced sidelong at Tane. “You know, I don’t have to kill you when this is done. I’ve tried to avoid it whenever I could, in fact. I warned you not to get involved in Belgrier. Everyone would benefit under my rule, even non-magicals. The accident that shaped us would never have happened, because your father would not have been given a task beyond his means. With the right leaders, those with the power to make a difference, Audland will prosper, and I will still need useful men and women among the non-magical. It’s conceivable that you and I could work together, if you would only agree to it. And swear fealty, of course.”
Outside, the dragons circled into view again. Syllesk and Nevka and Iskar darted in and out, trying to get closer, but the larger beast managed to keep itself between them and the ship, and whenever one or the other got near, a volley of cannon fire forced them back. They moved too fast for Tane to get a clear glimpse; he couldn’t tell if Kadka was still safe on Nevka’s back. In a moment, the fight descended below the Hesliar’s belly and out of sight once more.
“Right,” said Tane. “Everyone prospers, except the people you have to suck the souls out of to get there. Or the ones you use and cast off. Like Oola Hobbier.” Come on. Take the bait. He’d seen Endo worked into a froth before—that was what he needed.
But Endo only frowned. “Oola was… very dear to me. I regret that necessity. But make no mistake—all of this is necessary. True change always requires extreme measures. In one act, I will gut the armies of those who would oppose the rule of the magical, and show those who might sympathize with them how foolish it would be to oppose me. It must be done.”
“You and I have very different definitions of ‘must’,” said Tane. “You’re doing this because you have delusions of grandeur, not because it’s necessary. Or inevitable. I’m not going to let it happen.”
Endo chuckled. “Come now, Tane. How would you even begin to stop me?”
“I stopped Urnt.” Tane tried to say it with more conviction than he felt, tried not to let his voice shake when he remembered Wilnam Urnt’s open throat.
“And you think it would be so easy to do it again? I’m afraid I have closed that loophole. If I am killed, the spell will simply take a portion of the energy it drains and imbue me with it. Similar to the little puppets of mine you’ve encountered. Even dead, I will continue to serve as an Astral anchor, and my siphon will persist.”
Tane raised an eyebrow. “That’s convenient.”
“You doubt me?” Endo looked at him with mild disappointment. “I expected you of all people to see that the theory is sound. You’ve seen the evidence. Something doesn’t need to be alive to hold an Astral presence, not with Thorpe’s machine. The siphon simply needs an anchor, and I can be that anchor, alive or dead.”
It was possible, theoretically. Tane would have argued the point if he could, but there was nothing to argue. His talisman operated on a similar principle. “Wait,” he said. His eyes widened in horror. “If you die… if you’re not in control, no one is. There wouldn’t be any way to stop it, unless it runs out of people to drain. It would cover the whole city at least, and that might give it the power to reach the rest of the island. Maybe even across the Channel, and then…”
“Precisely,” said Endo. “Whereas I only intend to make examples of those I must. So you see, it is in everyone’s best interests that I remain alive. I’m willing to be a martyr for the cause if it is necessary, of course, but even if you could find a way to kill me with no magic of your own, you wouldn’t go so far. Not at the risk of so many non-magical souls.”
He was right. And that meant there was no last chance, no stopping this if Tane couldn’t get the ship out of range. I need a new plan, and I don’t have time to make it. None of his charms would function within Endo’s wards, so he had no weapons or tools. The only thing on him that still worked was his talisman.
Tane glanced down at the brass pin stuck in his shoulder. The gem was heavily clouded now—it had been protecting him for a long while. Diverting Astral power into a dead-end channel to fool the siphon into thinking he was a mage.
Which he wasn’t.
But Endo was.
It could do nothing at all. It wasn’t designed for that. He honestly didn’t know, hadn’t even considered the idea until that moment. But it was all he had.
Endo was looking forward out the window; Tane angled his body slightly so that the talisman wasn’t visible in the reflected image there. And then he reached up as if he was absently scratching his shoulder, and palmed the little artifact. It stung, slightly, when the pin pulled free. Immediately, the siphon rushed in, flooding his chest and limbs, sucking the warmth out of him. Here, beside Endo, it didn’t matter very much that the gathering at the waterfront was slowing the spell. Right at the source, it was still strong enough to empty him out in minutes.
“So many people down there,” Endo said, peering at the fight on the shore. “They’re slowing my spell more than I had anticipated. I assume that was your idea as well. You really are clever, for a non-magical.” He looked down toward the water, where only the Estian fleet remained. The ships were moving once more, trying to sneak by below while Endo’s dragon was otherwise occupied. “But you know, I could better use my resources to disperse your little gathering if I didn’t have to worry about holding the harbor.” His eyes flickered to one of his smaller airships, off to starboard. It angled inward, over one of the fleeing Estian ships. Something dropped from the hull, glinting in the sunlight, and plummeted toward the ship below.
Just over the water, it exploded into silver spellfire. When the flames faded, little remained where the ship had been moments before.
To port, the second of the smaller airships dropped a detonation of its own, melting another ship into scrap. Endo adjusted the Hesliar’s wheel, carrying them into position above the rest of the fleeing vessels. Tane couldn’t see what was happening directly below, but it wasn’t hard to guess. At least three Estian ships gone. Maybe more, if the Hesliar’s detonation was well-aimed. Each one carrying a full crew and hundreds of soldiers, in case the blockade turned into a battlefront. Easily a thousand lives, ended in moments. The Estians hadn’t come in the interest of peace, but they hadn’t declared war either—they certainly hadn’t provoked a massacre.
“Stop!” Tane cried out, keeping his talisman hidden in his palm and willing his legs not to shake, not to betray his failing strength. “Please, don’t do this. You can’t!” He’ll like that, making me beg. He took a step closer.
“Do try to maintain your dignity, Tane.” A slight smirk raised the corner of Endo’s mouth as he moved the wheel, steering toward one of the remaining ships. But he didn’t stop Tane’s approach.
Tane tried to look as desperate as he could, gripped the arm of Endo’s chair with his left hand, bent his legs as if he was about to drop to his knees, pleading. And as he came within reach, his right
hand swung, palm down, at the back of Endo’s neck.
The talisman sank into flesh.
“Ahhh!” Endo cried out in pain. “That hurt, you pissant! Get off!” He muttered in the lingua; Tane recognized the words. A force spell, meant to hurl him away.
Nothing happened.
Tane kept his hand pressed against Endo’s neck, holding the pin there. Endo struggled against him, reached back to try to pull the talisman loose, still chanting words of magic. Still nothing. The siphon persisted, of course; it was Astral-side, didn’t need to draw energy into the physical world. But no new Astral power answered his increasingly frantic calls.
Because those calls were being diverted down a dead-end channel.
“My magic!” Endo’s voice was a shrill screech. “What did you do?”
“Clever, isn’t it? For a non-magical, I mean.” Tane stretched out his free hand, grasped the altitude control lever, and yanked it down until it jammed against the Hesliar’s instrument panel.
The airship’s nose jerked violently upward. The deck sloped sharply underfoot. Suddenly, the only thing visible through the window was open sky.
And then Tane was falling. With Endo beside him, he plummeted toward the back of the bridge.
Chapter Nineteen
_____
KADKA GRIPPED NEVKA’S neck spines as the two of them darted again toward the Hesliar.
Endo’s stolen dragon intercepted them, letting loose a torrent of dragonfire. Nevka folded his wings to his sides and let himself plummet beneath the flames. The dive carried them out of danger, but it also took them further from the airship, and not for the first time. Between the ship’s cannons and shields and the seemingly invincible dragon, there was no easy way to get close.
“It’s not fair,” Nevka growled. “How can I help if I can’t get close? We shouldn’t be fighting like this. We were supposed to be a family!” Kadka felt the heat building beneath her, inside his chest. Not just physical, but Astral too, turning the tingling warmth of his presence into a heat under her skin that was almost painful now. The anger that could become dragonrage.
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