by Becky Allen
Elan couldn’t speak, but his expression said plenty. The disgust he had for Gesra was evident.
“Are we prepared?” Callad asked, looking at one of her Avowed stewards. They had been moving their people into position all day. The wall had no exits but the single gate, as far as they could see, but that didn’t mean they knew everything. So the whole estate was now surrounded, with Avowed guards overseeing the Twill they’d recruited. There were enough pockets of them placed around to engage anyone who might exit from anywhere along the wall, but the majority were here, with the Highest, outside the gate.
“Yes, Highest,” the steward said. “Everyone is ready to fight—ready for this to end.”
“Good,” Callad said, and looked at Erra. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Erra stood and glanced down at Elan. “Bring him. It’s time.”
She strode out, only pausing to accept the set of blades she’d need in the upcoming battle, a sword and a knife. The brand still hung from its tie at her waist and would be most important of all, but she might need to defend herself, too. She had only basic skills with the weapons—she’d been trained when she was younger and had worked to make sure she never fell out of practice, but she was no master. No one had ever thought she’d need to be, or that any of the Highest would. Their Avowed were loyal, and the world had been peaceful since the Curse had first been cast. Now, for the first time in generations, the Highest themselves would have to fight.
The Twill recruits swept out of her way as she walked forward, toward the wall and the gate. Far enough back to be safe, or at least as safe as anyone could be with a mage behind that wall. Though if the mage got close enough to strike at her, she’d have the brand and be able to strike back. Maybe it would be best if the mage tried—it might end this all even quicker.
Elan was dragged forward, barely able to walk with the thick chains around him. Mere manacles weren’t enough anymore, since Andra had fled. He was pushed onto his knees, his wrists chained behind his back. Guards held him in place, but Erra was the one with the knife.
A slit throat was how Closest were executed. They were ordered to do it by their own hands, so no Avowed had to dirty their own with traitor’s blood. But Elan wasn’t cursed, so Erra would do it. She’d volunteered to do this, to prove once and for all that she was one of the Highest, and like the rest of them, she had no mercy for traitors—not for Elan, not for Andra, not for anyone who crossed her caste.
Knife in hand, she stepped close to Elan and looked down at him, and then up at the guard. “Take the gag out. He may have his last words. But it doesn’t matter what you say”—she turned to him—“because we’re beyond a chance for mercy.”
The guard did as she instructed. Elan clenched and unclenched his jaw, then said, “I wouldn’t have asked for it. I am a traitor, Erra. Because I believe, I know, that you are wrong. That all this is wrong. I’d rather die than pretend otherwise. And I don’t regret anything I’ve done.”
“You should,” she said.
“No. I only wish…” He looked up at the wall. There were people standing atop it, looking down. Jae, no doubt. Maybe Andra was one of the others with her, if this was where she’d fled. Erra braced herself, but there was no explosion of flame, no earthquake. Elan dragged his gaze back to Erra. “I only wish you were the person I thought you were. But I was wrong about you. You were only ever one of them.”
“Enough,” Erra said, swallowing shame like bile. She didn’t care about a traitor’s opinion. She didn’t care about any traitor’s opinion, Elan’s or Andra’s. She was Erra Danardae, she was her father’s daughter, and she would protect the world as he had. This whole cursed revolt had to end now, no matter what that took, so order could be restored.
Which it would be. Things would be different, without the Closest to do so much labor, but the Twill would have to handle it. In exchange, the Highest would give them water from the reservoirs—for free, the way they did for the Avowed.
At least, for as long as the reservoirs lasted without the Closest. Erra still hoped that everything Elan had told her about the Well’s binding was a lie, but knowing that the Closest really had crafted the Well left her a little worried. But she didn’t dwell on it—she couldn’t afford to. The drought was over, anyway.
She drew the knife and adjusted her grip on it. Elan didn’t flinch. He didn’t cower or even look away. Just gazed up at her, and suddenly it wasn’t with the eyes of a stranger. As she stood over him, ready to strike as he even tipped his head back, waiting, making it easier for her, she could only see him as her younger brother. She’d practically raised him.
But look where he’d ended up.
“Erra, it’s time,” Gesra said, stepping up nearby. “Everyone is watching.”
She looked up, letting her gaze sweep from the figures on the wall out to the Twill who surrounded them, prepared for battle, to the line of Highest who were watching her. Gesra, Tarrir, and Callad.
She looked back at Elan, her brother, and her hand shook.
Tears pricked her eyes and she made herself step forward. Elan flinched finally, but only for a moment before he went statue-still again. Waiting, just waiting, for her to do it. To decide, once and for all, that she was like their father—would do what he would have—and that she wasn’t the person Elan had thought. That she wasn’t the one who would embrace the truth and seek justice, the one who believed that the lives of mages and the Closest mattered.
But her brother believed those things, those people, did matter, and he was willing to die for them. Erra stole a glance out at the army, up at the wall, and remembered the Closest woman who’d slid under the water silently. Who’d only survived because Erra had spoken up. Elan would have been proud if he’d seen that—
That was who Elan thought she was. Not like their father, but like him, willing to protect people. Not the world, but the people in it. Someone who would never condemn her own lover, the woman she cared about most in the world, just because mages held their own kind of power. Someone who wouldn’t, couldn’t, execute her own brother, just for wanting to save people. Someone willing to die for what she believed in.
Erra understood why those things were necessary. She was like her father. But as she looked at Elan’s unflinching expression, she didn’t want to be anymore. And she believed in him.
“Jae Aredann gave us terms, and I accept them,” Erra said, and threw the knife down into the sand. Pain erupted in her chest, the brand she’d taken when she said her vows burning. She gasped, staggered, but made herself bear the pain. She straightened up, hand going to the bloody spot on her chest, and stood as near to Elan as she could. She’d just condemned herself to die with him, but so be it.
“I accept her terms, and I abdicate. I release my followers from their vows. And you would all be wise to do the same,” she said, her voice shaking, but getting stronger as she spoke. She raised it, trying to be heard not just by the Highest who she didn’t think would ever really listen, but by the others behind them. Their followers, Avowed and Twill alike, who needed to know.
“The Closest crafted the Well, and everything we all know is a lie,” she continued, getting louder, shouting even as Tarrir opened his mouth. She had to make sure this was heard, and somehow, it was—her voice was louder than seemed possible, carrying above everything, unnaturally amplified. Her whole body tingled—magic. It was magic. Jae Aredann was doing this.
“It’s all been lies,” Erra said, echoing what Elan had tried to tell the world at the Break. “All of it! The War was a lie, the Closest were never traitors. They were cursed to protect the lies my ancestors told, the lies we all believed! Everything the Highest have told you is wrong, and I won’t be silent about it, and I will not punish my brother for telling the truth. Because the truth is that if we kill the Closest, we doom the Well and we curse ourselves, and I won’t help with that. I won’t.”
Elan stared up at her in shock, but before anyone else could react, Gesra Caenn slammed int
o her. Gesra was old, and tiny, but the sudden jolt caught her off guard. Gesra slammed an elbow into Erra’s stomach, driving her breath out, and as Erra tried to disentangle herself, she fell. Gesra was right on top of her, struggling, desperate, reaching for the knife. She was going to kill Elan—
No.
The brand.
Erra realized it and tried to roll out from under her, but it was too late. Gesra had grabbed the brand and pulled with all her strength, and small though she was, it was more than the loose tie around it could handle. It came free, the brand clutched in Gesra’s hand.
Gesra rolled away from her, and Tarrir shouted, “Everyone loyal—to us, now! Now!”
Erra shoved her way back to her feet, trying to find Elan again as people began moving, shouting and shoving among themselves, fighting one another. Those who believed her against those who followed the Highest.
She grabbed her sword and dodged toward Elan as bodies pelted her, people screaming and frothing, with no way to even tell who was on which side. It was all she could do to reach Elan, who was still immobile in the midst of it, no longer the focus as Tarrir tried to create a formation from the chaos.
Erra towered over her brother, prepared to defend him with her life, swiveling to take on any threat that approached them.
Behind her, the gate came down. The Closest attacked.
The moment Jae was told that Elan had been pulled up to within sight of the wall, she forced herself to climb up on top of it to watch. She owed him that. She couldn’t save him, even though her very being ached with a want to. There was nothing she could do. If she dared raise magic to try to help, she’d be targeted by the brand—and she needed her magic to assist the Closest for as long as possible.
Magic aside, even if they opened the gate and sent a squad of Closest out to try to help, the group would have little chance of even reaching him, let alone getting to him in time, and they’d likely all be killed in the process. Her army would lose enough people trying to take out Erra; they couldn’t throw away lives now, too.
So Jae watched, Andra at one side and Lenni at her other, and summoned the energy of the air to her. It would let her listen from a distance, as if Erra spoke to the air at Jae’s ears instead of only to the people around her.
She heard Elan’s final words, heard Erra’s “Enough,” saw Erra raise the knife.
Saw Erra hesitate. Then drop it.
“Jae, what’s…,” Lenni started to say as Erra’s words reached Jae’s ears. Jae stared into the roiling, confused crowd below and sent the air’s energy careening outward, carrying Erra’s words not just to her, but to the entire gathered army. Her speech echoed above everything, so clear that even the tremble in Erra’s voice carried.
“It’s all been lies, all of it! The War was a lie, the Closest were never traitors.”
Jae was nearly dizzy, hearing the truth like that, from Erra’s own lips, even though she’d known it. The crowd fell hushed for a moment.
“Everything the Highest have told you is a lie, and I won’t be silent about it, and I will not punish my brother for telling the truth. Because the truth is that if we kill the Closest, we doom the Well and we curse ourselves, and I won’t help with that. I won’t.”
“Jae!” Lenni grabbed her arm, demanding her attention. “They’re about to start fighting themselves, look!”
Lenni was right: the Twill who’d been so terrified of the Closest and the threat they represented were shouting now, their shock fallen away, demanding answers from the other Highest. Who had none. But the Highest were all there, that was clear from the way the crowd swirled around them—Erra and Elan trapped in the midst of it, but the other Highest, too.
“We can take advantage of the chaos,” Lenni said. “Some Twill will follow Erra, if we can get her out alive—and if she won’t use the brand, then—”
“Go!” Jae didn’t need to hear the rest. “I’ll protect you from here!”
Lenni took off down the stairs, already yelling orders.
One of the Highest went mad and tackled Erra. That set off even more chaos, the storm of anger and fear that the Twill had carried with them breaking. The fighting was a deluge now, so many bodies crushed together, so frantic and violent that Jae couldn’t track anyone with her true vision.
She slid into other-vision as easily as breathing, reaching out for a familiar feeling, and recognized Elan even in the midst of everything. Erra was standing over him, a few others at her side now, but they were surrounded by loyal Avowed. They were outnumbered, and would be more so soon—the closest throngs of the army that had been sent to ring Aredann in were running toward the fray.
Jae couldn’t do much for Erra and Elan from where she was, beyond one small thing. She reached out, as if reaching for Elan, grasped the energy of the earth within the chains that bound him, and turned them to dust.
The gate came crashing down and Lenni led a charge into the fray. Somewhere in the crowd, the Closest’s charge was answered, a group finally coming together, led by more of the Highest and their guards, with reinforcements coming from around Aredann.
She had to stop them. Lenni’s force was outnumbered enough as it was. Summoning as much of the earth’s energy as she could sense, she threw her arms outward, reshaping the world around her. The noise was like thunder from the ground as two chasms rumbled open, cutting off the main fighting—
But then they stopped.
Just like at Danardae, her magic hit a null area, large and expanding, moving closer. She gasped, knocked out of other-vision, and stared down at the chaos.
“You said only Erra could use the brand!” she shouted at Andra, as Lenni’s forces were swallowed up in the fighting.
“That’s what Elan said!” Andra stared out over the crowd, too, squinting. “It’s—there, someone has it, someone else must be able to…oh no. They’ll be slaughtered!”
Their strike force hadn’t gotten anywhere near Erra in the chaos. And Andra was right: if the null area got any closer, she and Andra would both lose their magic—probably for good. Because without them to protect the wall, the Highest would eventually break in. The Closest inside would fight, but…
“It’s bound with fire,” Jae said, pushing back into other-vision. She could sense that much, but when she tried to throw any of her own energy at it, the null area ate it. “You might be able to get through.”
Andra tried. Jae could sense it next to her as she gathered magic, the air heating up, and then released it. For just a moment, the null area sparked—yes, fire energy could get to the brand. But its magic was so enormous it swallowed Andra’s easily.
“It’s not enough,” Andra said, though Jae could feel the air heating up around them again for another attempt. “I’m not powerful enough.”
She loosed the magic again, but again, the null area lit and then faded.
Jae spared a glance at the rest of the battle. Lenni’s force had been separated into two, her half throwing themselves between the Highest and the wall, trying to stop their approach. Karr led the other half toward Elan and Erra. Split like that, there just weren’t enough people, Lenni gaining only inches of progress at a time.
If only there was some way to get everyone coordinated, attacking the Highest who had the brand, to link all their efforts together…
Jae grabbed Andra’s hand. Mages could link their power. Janna Eshara had done it to bind the Well, and Taesann had, too, when he’d taken all the Closest’s combined power and hidden it away. Jae held all that power now, and if she could link together with Andra…
“We need a blade, something sharp. It’ll hurt, but we need…” She didn’t have time to explain. Andra didn’t ask her to. She produced a small knife, one probably better used for prying up mosaic tiles to use in her art than for battle. Jae accepted it and cut her arm, said, “You too,” and Andra winced and followed the command.
Jae pressed their bleeding arms together, and as their blood mingled, Andra was pulled into the Closest’
s binding. Jae could sense her suddenly, sharply, as well as sensing her magic. Andra gasped.
“I’m going to try to see through your eyes,” Jae said, though she had no idea if it would work. She blinked into other-vision and could see the link between them, followed it. Andra seemed to reach out for her, extending her mind as if she were extending a hand to hold, and Jae clasped it. Their energies meshed together more fully and Jae’s senses went blindingly bright for a moment as she could feel things she never had before.
The world in front of her shined with strange clarity, now that she could sense all the elements. There was no true difference between other-vision and real vision, except where the brand dulled everything. But even that was different. Jae could see it now, the hot, angry, flickering light of the fire that had bound it and burned within it.
She reached for the well of power that belonged to the Closest, and with Andra still holding tight to her bloody palm, she called forth as much of that burning power as she could. And it did burn, searing her, but the agony didn’t matter. Down on the battlefield, Elan and Erra were overwhelmed, cut off from the gate, other pockets of Twill fighting Twill too far away to help them, and the brand came ever nearer.
Jae accepted the burning pain, breathed into it, and threw the whole painful bundle of energy at the brand. The brand flickered, trying to absorb it all, but ancient and powerful as it was, Jae’s magic was, too. The brand brightened, surging with power as it worked, but as it did, Jae could feel the fire inside it for the first time.
She reached for it, clenched her mental fingers around it, and pulled. It was like tug-of-war with a burning rope; her whole body ached with the effort, so hot she might collapse, but she kept her grip and pulled and pulled against it. The brand tried to tug back, struggling to stay bound, and a fire burst onto the battlefield, right in the group of Avowed. People screamed and whoever was holding the brand lost their grip. The brand’s power flickered now that it was no longer channeled through a person. Jae gave one final yank and the brand erupted into sparks and flames, its binding snapped.
