Cord was currently ahead of them, striding through the darkness as if she could find her way home blind. Dante slowed, allowing her to get another couple steps ahead.
"Just don't put yourself in position to get hurt," he murmured. "We're here for Gladdic, nothing more."
"A week ago, you were ready to lead Collen's banners right up to the palace in Bressel. What happened to your revolutionary zeal?"
"It died by the riverbank."
With the butte less than a mile ahead, he quashed the desire to quadruple-check that their paired loons were still working. Earlier that day, he'd sent a dead prairie mouse up to the plateau. Since their hasty departure from the city, Gladdic had built a rampart around the base of the road up to the top of the butte. The cavern whose pool they'd used to leave Collen was halfway up the trail. With no easy way for Cord and Blays to reach it, they were going to have to employ other methods.
The switchbacks were on the south side of the city. Dante led their group to the southeast. The slopes were nearly sheer, hence unguarded and unlit. Yet fallen rocks had accumulated around the base, rendering it climbable. They picked their way up the scree, careful not to dislodge a rockslide.
Soon, they left the loose rocks behind and began their ascent of the wall. Rugged and forbidding though it was, it was studded with shelves of rock wide enough to walk about on. Sage sprouted wherever there was enough dirt to support it, offering handholds. Now and then, Dante carved a stair or three into the rock to allow them to continue upward.
After a long, careful climb, Dante stopped on a ledge halfway up the side of the butte. Making sure his footing was steady, he closed his eyes and sent his focus into the rock, snaking toward the caves set along the switchbacks. Casting about, he located a passage that extended deep into the plateau and opened into a rounded chamber that matched his memory of the one they'd swum through. Once he knew where the passage was, it was a simple matter to open a tunnel in the side of the butte and link them up. The connection was lengthy enough that he had to keep it narrow, but it was wide enough for a grown man to crawl through it without excessive discomfort.
"Let me know as soon as you find anything," Dante said. "But take your time. We've got almost three weeks before we'll be ready to move on the city."
"I've got it all planned out," Blays said. "For my first move, I'll infiltrate the city's pubs. After that, I'll play it by ear."
He ducked into the tunnel. Cord followed. Dante gave them a few minutes to crawl away from the entrance, then sculpted it to be less visible from above or below, leaving just enough space to wriggle through. He and Naran descended to the plain, a much more treacherous journey than the climb, and headed back in the direction of Dog's Paw.
After forty minutes of walking in silence, Dante glanced at Naran. "Once this is over, what are you planning to do with yourself?"
"I've come in possession of a ship, so that makes me a captain," Naran said. "But I don't yet feel like one. I intend to take the Sword of the South away from Mallon for a while. Embark on a few simple voyages. The duller, the better."
"I'm sure we'd have plenty of work for you in Narashtovik. Although I can't promise it'll be dull. It seems like I can't turn around without running afoul of a king or an enemy so ancient we didn't know they existed."
"I've never been that far north. They say it's so cold it will freeze your urine before it's departed your body." Naran bobbed his head. "To paraphrase."
"They exaggerate. Though there have been nights when the hairs froze in my nostrils."
"And you people live there on purpose?"
"After seeing the Plagued Islands, I'm questioning that decision as well." Dante stretched his stride over a rodent hole he'd been about to trip in. "My offer's real, though. Narashtovik's always been short on ships."
"A considerate offer. Unless it's merely a way to secure yourself a ride home."
Dante chuckled. "The thought hadn't crossed my mind."
"I'll have to see what the crew thinks. But after what happened in Bressel, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have a new port to call home." Naran looked over his shoulder at the butte receding behind them. "What's next on our schedule? Intelligence?"
"That's right. Everyone's been so terrified about calling down the wrath of the demons that they've kept their scouting to a minimum. We need to get eyes on the road from Bressel. If Gladdic brings in reinforcements, we have to know about it. I'll post one of my scouts at the mouth of the canal, too. Once that's in place, we should work with the Colleners on strategies to deal with the Andrac."
"They're common soldiers. What strategy would that be? To run as fast as their legs are capable of moving?"
"Probably," Dante admitted. "But we could at least try to come up with something more."
They made camp on the back of a rise that was rounded on one side and sheer on the other, as if Gashen had grown angry and cleaved it in half with his axe. That night, the temperature plummeted, and was slow to revive in the morning. To warm their blood, they got an early start, spooking any number of mice on their way through the fields. Dante killed and reanimated four, sending two to the road to Bressel and two others toward the canal mouth to watch for another attempt to dam it. Undead, the creatures could run all day and all night; they'd be in position in less than a day.
Back at Dog's Paw, sentries stood vigil on the ridges. People came and went between the plaza and the cave-houses cut into the terraces, but there was a taut energy in the air that Dante recognized at once: the mood of a city before the siege. Many of the senators had stayed in Dog's Paw to coordinate with the other towns. Over the course of the day, Dante was summoned to multiple meetings to answer questions and offer advice.
The next morning, the loon he shared with Blays tingled. Dante activated it. "What've you got?"
"How soon can you march the townsfolk to Collen?" Blays said.
"There hasn't been any change in the timeline. Our ethermancers will be here in another two and a half weeks."
"Right. Then the city's doomed."
Dante waited for the punchline. "It looked fine two days ago. What'd you do?"
"Something big is going on here. A few days before we got in, Gladdic announced he was relocating most of the citizens to the outlying towns. The cover story is it's for their own safety. The real story—supposedly—is that Gladdic's afraid of a rebellion, and is thinning out the town so he's got fewer potential partisans on his hands."
"The senators of the six largest towns in the basin are right here. They haven't said a word about receiving refugees."
"That was my first thought. So I did some poking around. Every afternoon, the Mallish gather up two or three hundred people. Soldiers lead them down the road to one of the caverns to be blessed. An hour or so later, the soldiers escort them back out and off into the desert."
Dante frowned. "Maybe Gladdic knows about the Code of Wasps. He wouldn't send the refugees to the larger towns if they're going to be drafted into war at any moment. Could he be sending them to live in the hamlets? Or a camp somewhere?"
"I don't think he's sending them to live anywhere."
This took Dante a moment. "You think he's leading them out into the desert and killing them."
"No," Blays said, "I think he's killing them in the cavern."
"I thought you said they left the cavern an hour later. And then the soldiers escorted them into the desert."
"That's how it's made to look. After Gladdic has the citizens killed, the soldiers dress in their clothes and walk off. Anyone watching will think it's just as Gladdic says: that they're being led away for their own safety."
"And then what? The soldiers sneak back under cover of darkness to repeat the process the next day?"
"Yep."
Though Blays wasn't there to see him, Dante couldn't help rolling his eyes. "This theory's getting a little elaborate."
"It's less of a theory and more of a thing that I saw."
At that moment, Dante was standing on
the "roof" of Dog's Paw, facing southeast. From that vantage point, he'd been surveying the land, trying to work out the feasibility of pursuing Captain Twill's vision of running a canal from the Collen Basin to Parth. Not that his intentions were to nobly help the basin prosper. Rather, if he found a way to strengthen the connection between Parth and Collen, providing the basin with a new ally, it would be much easier to sever Narashtovik's connection to the country.
Hearing Blays, he had to step away from the edge lest he topple down into the plaza below.
"What do you mean," Dante said, "you saw it?"
"I mean I was physically present in a way that allowed my eyes to witness it. Gladdic brought them into the cavern, said something prayery, then set the Andrac on them. It killed them all within five minutes. After that, the soldiers stripped the bodies and put on their clothes. I had to shadowalk out before they were done, but I watched from up top as they walked down the road and left town. They came back that night dressed in their uniforms."
"You're absolutely sure that's what happened?"
"Unless I went insane from witnessing a demon slaughter three hundred people."
Dante's stomach twisted. "How long has this been going on?"
"Three days. There's another one scheduled for this afternoon."
"You said these were citizens, right? Not monks?"
"Right."
"He was trying to drain the canal to drive out the towns. Now that that's failed, he's decided to murder everyone in the city instead. Only he doesn't have the troops to do it all at once. Instead, he's chewing through them bit by bit. Quietly. So no one will know the truth until it's done."
Blays tried to speak, but his voice caught. He cleared his throat. "That's my read on it, too."
Beneath Dante, the wasteland seemed to stretch on forever. "I've read about things like this in the histories. But I've never seen it myself. The viciousness of it. It's insane."
Across the loon, Blays sniffed; the sound was muffled, as if he was holding his hand over his face. "I could hardly believe what I was seeing. We can't wait on this. We have to stop it."
"If we could do that, we'd have already counterattacked. We have to wait."
"So we act like nothing's different? Twiddle our thumbs until your sorcerers get here?"
"At that point, there will still be thousands of citizens alive in the city. If we rush in now and lose the fight, he'll butcher everyone."
"And if we wait, we guarantee he'll kill thousands. Three hundred people per day, Dante. I don't think I can carry that weight."
Dante licked his lips. "I should talk to Nak. See if we can't get our sorcerers here any faster."
"I haven't told Cord yet. But I can't keep this from her. If she hears you're withholding it from the senators, she'll take the news straight to them."
"And they'll march on Collen on the spot. What happens if we attack the city now and we lose?"
Blays' voice had been weary. Now, it hardened with resolve. "Then we lose trying to stop the greatest atrocity we've ever seen."
"I'll tell the senate," Dante said. "Tell Cord what's happening. It's your job to stop her from charging into the Mallish lines to claim her deathright."
"How do you expect me to do that? Chain her to a rock?"
"Tell her we'll be there in three days—and if she wants to end this, we need her to have her troops ready to fight."
* * *
When he broke the news to the Strong Senate, it was all he could do to stop them from charging the city then and there.
Once they'd been talked around to mounting an attack in a non-idiotic fashion, Dante lapsed into silence, letting them argue through their anger and pain. This took such a long time that, by the time they finally quit yelling at each other, he'd formulated a fully formed battle plan. Yet even with Serta's help, it took two minutes before Dante could get the senators' attention.
"Gladdic thinks he's being cunning," Dante said. "But his scheme has left him vulnerable. Every day, he sends three hundred troops out of the city. So you set up an ambush for them. Right outside the city, where Gladdic can see it unfold. This leaves him with a choice. Either he stays put, and your soldiers cut down a third of his men. Or he sends down reinforcements—and leaves the city defended by a skeleton crew."
Serta's eyes glimmered. "Which Cord and the resistance can sweep through from within. Not much of a choice for Gladdic, is it? It's like a fox with its leg caught in a trap: he can chew through his own leg, ensuring that's all he loses. Or he can try to wriggle out, and risk losing everything if the hunter comes back before he's freed himself."
Ana waved her palm side to side, batting down the idea. "Even if Gladdic sends down nine-tenths of his remaining troops, the city won't be undefended. Surely he'll leave some priests and Andrac behind."
"Probably," Dante said. "But my team will already be inside the city. And we'll be waiting."
The discussion resumed as intensely as ever, but it soon became clear that the Colleners intended to use the basics of his tactics. While they went over the finer details, the Keeper motioned to Dante, drawing him aside.
"You're sure this is wise?" she croaked. "What if we waited until the rest of your sorcerers arrived?"
"Then five thousand innocent Colleners would be dead."
"We've suffered worse. Those five thousand would be happy to give up their lives to guarantee the others would be saved."
"You've asked them, have you?"
She regarded him with her pale blue eyes. "I know my people well enough to not have to ask."
"It's not my decision." He nodded to the senators. "You want to convince them to wait? Have at it."
"You're the leader of Arawn's house on earth. Your voice will be respected."
"Then listen to my voice when I tell you I won't wait."
The old woman spat in the dust. "Gladdic would wait."
Dante smiled strangely. "Then be glad I'm not like him."
She stared at him another moment, then shook her head and turned away. Giving up his claims of leadership felt as good as setting down a full knapsack at the end of a long day's hike. For once, he was nothing more than a soldier. It might be years before he felt so free again.
By the end of the morning, the six-part senate reached consensus. Over the rest of that day and the next, they would return to their towns and gather their armies. The day after that, they would march behind the hills just west of Collen. When the Mallish soldiers departed the city dressed as Colleners, the actual Colleners would emerge from behind the hill and cut the Mallish off.
As soon as Dante had a moment to himself, he looned Blays with the news.
"I was wrong," Dante said. "We're not going to war in three days. We'll be there in two."
"Good news. What's the plan?"
Dante laid out the gist. "The Colleners will be in charge of their own people. They should be more than a match for the Mallish soldiers. But against the ethermancers or the Andrac, they'd be helpless."
"In other words, the role of fighting that which can't be fought by mortal men will fall to us."
"Exactly. That's the only thing we have to worry about."
"The only thing we have to worry about? Just like the only thing the beetle has to worry about is the sole of the boot?"
"There's no army to command," Dante said. "No territory to defend. We don't even have to worry about saving lives. Know why? Because if we don't kill Gladdic and the demons, there is no saving the Colleners."
"So our objective is to be as nasty as we please," Blays said. "No wonder you're so happy about this."
There was no explaining it. Olivander would have understood. Strange as it was to think, King Charles of Mallon and King Moddegan of Gask would have gotten it as well: the relief that came when, for the first time in years, you were freed to make a decision without having to consider how it would impact the thousands of lives that depended on you.
The townsfolk would attack in two days. Dante needed to be
in the city by the time that happened, meaning he'd need to sneak in the night before: which was to say tomorrow night. He went about procuring supplies, most notably a mule for the Keeper. This proved somewhat difficult, as the army of Dog's Paw would need all the beasts of burden it could find. And since the Keeper had maintained her anonymity, to the senators, she was nothing but a ridiculously old woman. Dante didn't even try to come up with a lie for why he needed to bring her. Instead, he went to the stables with a story about how much magical bric-a-brac he'd need to carry with him in order to be able to fight the demons.
Naran found him at the stables arguing with the proprietor, who had insisted that pack animals were in short supply, but offered to provide Dante with two strong-backed men in lieu of a mule. Naran waited patiently until Dante fabricated a lie to the effect that the presence of other humans would disturb the alchemy he needed to conduct en route, finally convincing the stableman to hand over the gods damned mule.
As Dante walked out, Naran fell in beside him. "Were you intending to leave me here?"
"I didn't know you were intending to come along."
The captain quirked a brow. "I find myself unable to take your meaning."
"No offense, Naran. You're handy enough with a saber. But sabers aren't going to do much damage to the people we'll be up against. Especially the ones who aren't people."
"You're afraid I'll be of no use in the fighting."
"Aren't you?"
"This could be so," Naran said. "But if it is so, it seems there's a simple solution to keep me safe. All I have to do is get behind you."
Dante laughed. "We've made it through some ridiculous situations together, but don't mistake that for invincibility. I already gave up my shot at living forever."
"As I've pointed out before, I'm the one who got us into this mess. Whatever the outcome, if this is to be the battle that sends us to our ends, I should be there, too."
"After all that's happened, I'm not sure that any of us should be here."
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