“What do you want, Adira?” Cara asked gently.
Adira turned, blinked at her. “It’s time for morning services.”
“I’d like to come too,” Netra said.
“Are you sure?” Cara asked. “Shouldn’t you rest?”
“I’ve rested enough. I want to see you lead the service.”
“Well, okay,” Cara said reluctantly and turned toward the door.
But Adira didn’t move. She just stood there staring at Netra in that unnerving way she had. Finally, she said, “What makes you so special?”
That surprised Netra. Surprised her and made her feel a little guilty for some reason, as if Adira had said something aloud that Netra didn’t want others hearing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cara talks about you all the time. She thinks you’re special.” Adira squinted at her. “You don’t look special to me.”
Netra shook her head. “I’m not. Not really.”
“Cara is. She’s special.” Adira said it like a challenge, almost daring Netra to gainsay her.
Netra looked at her old friend, steady, loyal, loving. “You’re right.”
That didn’t seem to placate Adira at all. Her scowl never lessened. But she did step aside.
When they left the hut they found Ricarn standing there. She was staring at Shorn, who had taken a position near the wall of the hut, and was staring at her. Without looking away from Shorn she said, “Melekath created all life. On this world. But you are not of this world. This raises very interesting questions. How, and why, did life rise elsewhere?” Her eyes glittered. “It makes me wonder if the Shapers were sent here to do just that.”
Shorn returned her stare without speaking.
“Netra, this is Ricarn,” Cara said. “She is of the Arc of Insects.”
Ricarn turned toward Netra. Her silver stare bore deep into Netra so that the young woman felt curiously exposed. She wanted to step back or look away, but she felt frozen to the spot. The moments ticked by while Ricarn bored deeper. Then the intensity of her stare faded. Netra sagged, feeling as if she’d been released.
“You have been touched by SeaSong,” Ricarn said.
“Sea contains Song?” Cara said, frowning.
“The melody is far different from that of Life, but it is Song all the same.”
“I…we were taken by the Lementh’kal,” Netra said, gesturing at Shorn.
“The children of Golgath. They have not interacted with humans for a very long time. The last time did not go well for us.”
Netra nodded, thinking of the destruction of Kaetria.
“They have changed you,” Ricarn said. She turned her head slightly to Cara. “Netra will not be at your services today. I wish to speak with her.”
“Of course,” Cara said. After giving Netra a quick hug, Cara walked away, trailed closely by Adira, who had once again taken hold of the edge of her robe.
Ricarn again turned her full attention on Netra, staring at her curiously as if she were some new species she had never seen before. Netra fidgeted under that stare and finally said, “Should we sit down or…?”
“I feel no need to sit,” Ricarn said. “You may, if you wish.”
Netra looked to Shorn for help, saw none there. He was watching Ricarn warily.
“Yesterday you drained Song from ten soldiers and used it to save his life.”
So that was what this was about. “I didn’t mean—”
“The Lementh’kal saw your potential. And they saw your danger.” She blinked, once. “The danger you pose to everything.”
“I’m not dangerous,” Netra tried to say, but the words died on her lips.
“Tell me of your time with them.”
So Netra did. She told Ricarn about finding the pool underneath the buried city of Kaetria, how she’d seen the power there and tried to tap into it. She told about being attacked and speaking to the Council. Finally, she told of Ya’Shi taking her to see the Ancient One.
“And the Ancient One? She spoke to you?”
“Sort of,” Netra replied. “It really felt more like she and Ya’Shi mocked me.”
“What did they say to you?” The intensity in Ricarn’s gaze suddenly increased. Netra felt the shame of everything she’d done spring to the surface and she wanted to cover herself up.
“I don’t remember. Exactly.”
“It is important that you do. Exactly. For the Ancient One to take notice of a human, for her to go so far as to speak to you, is extremely rare. It means that she and Ya’Shi saw something in you. Something that may yet save us all.”
“I don’t…” Netra felt herself beginning to tremble inside. It frightened her, where this was going. It was believing she was somehow special that had brought so much suffering on. “It was mostly nonsense.”
“It was only nonsense because you were not listening. You must remember.”
Netra rubbed her eyes with a shaky hand. “I don’t think I can.”
“Don’t think. Just remember.”
Netra backed up, leaning against the wall of the hut. She suddenly felt dizzy and she was starting to have a headache. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples.
“It’s all there. Inside you. Just let it out.”
Ricarn’s words seemed to hit her with physical force. All at once Netra could see it all again, as if she were an observer watching while it all happened.
“What are they saying?” Ricarn insisted.
“They know that I broke the prison,” Netra said. She was shaking. She felt unbearably tired. “They know.”
“It is not important now,” Ricarn said. Netra could feel her move closer. “Tell me more.”
Netra watched, once again reliving the shame and horror as they exposed what she’d done. She could hear them speaking, see herself standing with her head down.
“The Ancient One says I will have to be the doorway. She says I have to stop fighting and let go, that everything I need is within me. I just have to let it happen.”
“What else?”
“Ya’Shi says I have to understand who my enemy really is.” With difficulty, Netra pushed herself out of the memory and opened her eyes to the real world. The day was getting brighter. Shorn was watching her with concern on his face. “That’s all. There isn’t any more.”
Ricarn nodded and it felt to Netra like she released her from something. The Insect Tender took a step back. “What do you think this means?”
“I don’t know. I’ve tried to figure it out but it just doesn’t make sense to me.”
“The Ancient One said that you are the doorway.”
“But what does that mean? A doorway to what?”
“Perhaps a doorway back to the Circle of Life,” Ricarn said. “It makes sense. Melekath’s Gift removed them from the Circle. That’s why their hunger can never be sated. They are cut off from the natural flows of Song. The Gift must be undone and they must be brought back into the Circle.”
“But how am I supposed to be the doorway that brings them back? That makes no sense.”
Just then the bells began to toll.
The Children had resumed their attack.
Ricarn looked at Shorn. “They will need you down there,” she said.
Shorn looked at Netra and she nodded. “I’m going too,” she said, and started to leave, but Ricarn stopped her.
“No. He goes. You stay here. We are not done speaking of this.”
Twenty-three
Quyloc was in his room when the bells began to ring. He picked up the rendspear and headed for the door. He opened it and found T’sim standing there, looking at him.
“Lowellin is gone.”
“So?” Quyloc said impatiently. “He’s often gone.”
“This time is different.”
Quyloc frowned. He had no time for this. “Why?”
“He will not return.”
“He’s afraid of the Children.”
“Deathly so. But that is not
why he is gone. His hatred is stronger than his fear. He pursues Melekath.”
“Good. Maybe they will kill each other.”
T’sim frowned. “I do not know if this is true.”
Quyloc started to leave, then paused. “Tell me something. Aren’t you afraid of the Children?” T’sim nodded. “Then why are you still here?”
T’sim seemed to consider this. “I think it is because there is nowhere to go.” With that the little man turned and walked away.
Quyloc shook his head and walked down the hall. Surprisingly, considering everything that was going on, he’d slept pretty well. He actually felt pretty good.
He turned a corner, saw Rome ahead of him—dressed in full armor, the black axe strapped to his back—and hurried to catch up to him. The big man looked awful. There were pouches under his eyes and deep lines on his forehead.
“I’ve been thinking, Rome.”
“Yeah?”
“We need to prepare for the worst.”
“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”
“We got lucky yesterday. Twice. If the Tenders hadn’t gotten that barrier up when they did, we’d have lost the entire city. If that Sounder hadn’t been where he was, we’d have lost the city.”
“Believe me, I know. I spent half the night tossing in my bed, wondering where they’d come in next.”
“It’s only a matter of time. We’ve got too much wall to defend.”
“What are you thinking?”
“A lot of people left the city. By my estimates we have only about ten thousand or so citizens remaining, and just over a thousand soldiers. We could fit everyone here on the palace grounds.”
“It would be tight.”
“It would. But we can do it. With your okay, I want to give the order to evacuate the city.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
Rome scrubbed sleep from his eyes while he thought about it. “All right,” he said at last.
“A couple other things. If the Children get past the barrier, we need to pin them in the square, at least for a few minutes. Otherwise we’re going to lose most of the Tenders and quite a few of our soldiers.”
“Not to mention us,” Rome added. “What’s your plan?”
“Be prepared to use the axe to bring down the buildings on either side of the narrow street that exits the square.”
“What’s to stop Heram from just smashing his way directly through one of the other buildings along the square?” The buildings bordering the square had no windows on the bottom floors and the doors were iron. The square had been designed specifically to slow down invaders in the event that the gates were breached.
“We send some men into those buildings to knock out supports so that the upper floors collapse. Heram won’t find it quite so easy to break through if the inside is filled with rubble.”
“They’ll still be able to crawl over the two buildings I drop.”
“Yes, but it will buy us some time. Every little bit will help.”
“Okay. I’ll do it. Anything else?”
Quyloc nodded. “One more thing.” They were at the front doors of the palace by then. A servant opened the doors and they walked outside. From there they could see the main gates in the palace wall. “If we have to run, we may not have time to get a new barrier erected here before Heram destroys those gates.” A soldier was waiting at the bottom of the steps with their horses and the two men hurried down the steps and mounted. As they rode for the gates, Quyloc continued, “Lord Rinley has been doing some construction on his estate.”
“So?”
They trotted over to the palace gates where a squad of mounted soldiers were waiting for them. As they neared the gates the stack of cut stones that Rinley was using for construction became visible, just across the wide boulevard that ringed the palace. The stones were big, nearly chest high on a man.
“Have some of these moved inside the gates,” Quyloc said. “Get rigging and teams of horses set up to move them in a hurry. Once we’re back inside, have them stacked up behind the gates, filling the whole space under the wall. That should slow Heram down some, if he has to hammer his way through all that extra stone.”
“We’ll be trapping ourselves inside.”
“You know as well as I do that there’s no escaping from this.”
Wearily, Rome nodded. “You’re right. Have it done.”
Well, Quyloc thought, either he was dreaming or the world really was about to end. Because Rome just took his advice, not once, but two times in a row. Truly it was a day for miracles.
The square was buzzing with activity. Two Tenders were manning the barrier, Song flowing from their sulbits to it, their bodyguards standing behind them. Off to one side were a half dozen more Tenders waiting their turn. Near them were a dozen citizens, ready to share their Songs whenever sulbits needed recharging.
Arranged behind the barrier were three tightly packed squads of soldiers, twenty-five men in each squad. They sported pikes, their wooden shafts nearly twenty feet long, the points sheathed in metal. They’d been Tairus’ idea. If the Children got in, the pikemen might be able to hold them back long enough for the rest to flee the square. It was a job none of them were likely to survive and when Tairus told the soldiers about it he said no one would be ordered to do it. It was strictly volunteers only. Nearly two hundred men had volunteered.
It had taken Rome only a few minutes to bring down all the buildings ringing the square except for the two standing on either side of the narrow street that would be their escape route. The dust from the collapsed buildings was still settling.
Standing in the middle of the square, his thick arms folded across his chest, was the huge, copper-skinned warrior Shorn.
Rome looked at the barrier. A couple of the Children were throwing themselves at it, but they didn’t look to be making any headway. He headed over to Shorn. “That was pretty impressive, what you did yesterday,” Rome said. Shorn looked at him without answering.
“I’m glad you’re on our side.” Still no answer. Rome had known statues that were more talkative.
“I’ve got something for you.” Shorn just stared at him steadily.
“I got to thinking about how it might be a good idea if you had a weapon.” Now Shorn had a dismissive look in his eyes.
“I’m not talking about any of our normal weapons. I’m thinking something more your size.’ Rome turned and gestured to a couple of soldiers standing by a wagon. “Bring it over.”
While they struggled to get it out of the wagon the big warrior turned toward them. When he saw what they were carrying he actually smiled slightly. At least it looked like a smile to Rome. He might have just been baring his teeth. He preferred to think of it as a smile, but he had to admit it was somewhat chilling either way. He decided right then that he’d rather face Heram than Shorn.
The item causing Shorn to smile looked a little bit like a tree trunk. But it was actually a club. Rome guessed it weighed about as much as a full-grown man, with armor. It was made of oak, and the head was sheathed in iron.
“It’s not too fancy,” Rome said. “We were a little short of time.”
Shorn wasn’t listening to him. He was walking toward the two soldiers. He met the men halfway and took the club from them. He hefted it in one hand and held it up to look at it. The soldiers fell back away from him, their eyes wide.
Shorn took the club in both hands and gave it a couple practice swings and then Rome was sure he was smiling. It really wasn’t a pleasant smile.
Shorn looked at Rome and nodded once. Then the big warrior walked to the statue in the center of the square. It was a statue of some long-dead king on horseback. Surrounding the statue was a knee-high stone wall. Shorn sat down on the wall, facing the front entry, the club balanced across his knees.
“I guess he likes it,” Rome said to himself. He looked around. There was no sign of the young woman who’d accompanied Shorn the day before. Rome wondered brief
ly where she was.
He saw Tairus on top of the wall, saying something to the soldiers, and headed that way. He was halfway across the square when the Children suddenly changed tactics and launched a new attack.
Twenty-four
Heram and Reyna stood at a distance and watched as a handful of the Children threw themselves at the barrier over and over.
“What brilliant plan do you have for us today?” Heram asked.
Reyna turned on him. “My plan almost worked. We were inside the wall. There was no way to know they could summon those things,” she said with a suppressed shudder. A new barrier spanned the opening under the wall. None of the Children had tried its strength. It wasn’t the barrier they feared, but the creatures in the water. Being dragged out to sea and pulled deep underwater had been a singularly unpleasant experience. None of them wanted to experience that again.
“Maybe you are not as smart as you think you are,” Heram said.
“You think you could do better?”
“It does not seem I would do worse.”
“Prove it. Come up with something better then,” she hissed.
“I will,” he said simply, and started for the wall.
“It won’t work!” Reyna yelled after him. Then she added, “Idiot.” He ignored her. The heavy ballistae tracked his movements, but they held their fire, watching to see what he would do.
Heram walked into the gateway passage and up to the Children clustered at the barrier. He grabbed one of them at random—a bent, withered little man—by the neck and picked him up. The man yelped and squirmed, but Heram ignored him. He carried him back through the passage and outside, stopping when he was a few paces from the wall. The soldiers on the wall stared down at him curiously, wondering what he was doing.
Then Heram simply threw the man. The man squawked and flew through the air, arms and legs flailing. He cleared the wall and disappeared from sight.
The other Children stared at Heram in shock, not sure what they had just seen. The soldiers stared too. For a moment no one moved, as if frozen in time.
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