Should they try to link with the armies at the Ring Forts? Or should they head for Ralanast, to try to rescue their ally’s capital from certain destruction.
The commanders spent their days arguing. The men spent their nights shivering. They felt defeated, and they had yet to face their enemy.
21
Every time history repeats itself, the price goes up.
— Memoirs of Emperor Xenovere I, 286-2, 381 Y.E.
THE small pleasure skiff made its way ponderously down the Sarsen, requiring only the gentlest of paddling to stay on its course. Ella leaned against the rail and watched the world sliding past, like some grand play following the theme of nature’s beauty.
Ice had built up along the riverbanks where the water was more sluggish, and Ella wore a heavy shawl against winter’s chill. People generally spent their time indoors now — there was certainly enough to do. Ella’s hands were growing calloused from holding a scrill and her satchel containing the tools of her trade was always by her side now.
It was the first occasion she’d had to see Killian since the night out in the Woltenplats, but somehow she knew their time was coming to an end. He’d had been waiting outside the Crystal Palace. He always seemed so fascinated by it; it had become the one place she knew she might find him and she always included it on her walks.
Ella didn’t ask him where he’d been and made no mention of their time together, their kiss. She had made the suggestion to take out a boat on the river. Killian had seemed a little hesitant, given the frigid weather, but he’d agreed readily enough.
He’d had one more thoughtful look at the palace before moving away with her, smiling, the way he always was.
However it hadn’t been the way Ella had expected. Killian seemed pensive and distracted. They hadn’t been close — in fact they’d barely touched. He’d helped her into the boat, always polite, but that was it.
Killian sat a few paces from her, the paddle in his hand. His blue eyes seemed a pale grey in the low winter light and he wore a thin shirt and trousers, seemingly unaware of the cold.
Ella could see the Long Bridge approaching, with the Runebridge behind it, signalling the end. The Crystal Palace sparkled, glowing softly. The High Lord had decided to leave the palace lights permanently activated to improve morale. All it served was to remind Ella of the war, that her brother was out there somewhere. She worried about Miro constantly.
Ella heard the sound of Killian putting down his paddle. She could see him playing with something out of the corner of her eye, but she wasn’t sure what.
Ella turned. He’d been idly looking through her satchel, curious. Ella’s breath caught. She was sure she had sealed her satchel, locking it with an enchantment only she could break. How could he have opened it?
"What’s this?" he said.
Killian held a small crystal bottle in one hand. The bottle was intricately designed, like a small jewel.
Ella’s heart skipped a beat. The bottle was filled with an oily, black liquid.
It was Ella’s bottle of essence, the gift she’d received at graduation.
Killian held the stopper in his other hand. He’d removed it, peering down at the liquid in the bottle.
Ella turned white. "Killian. Listen to me. Listen to me very, very carefully."
"What? What is it?"
"Do not move. Don’t move one little bit. I’m going to come over to you."
The river was so placid before. Now Ella was acutely aware of every tiny jolt the skiff made, the smallest rocking. Lord of the Sky, they would have to be in a boat!
Ella started to move in the skiff, and then stopped when her movements caused the boat to rock too much. Killian had a strange expression on his face.
"What are you doing?" he said.
"Killian, I need you to very, very carefully put the stopper back in the bottle."
"I don’t understand?"
"Please!" she cried, her voice quivering with suppressed emotion. "Just put the stopper back in the bottle."
Ella looked up and saw the shore coming at them. Fast.
It happened all at once. Ella screamed as the boat bumped hard against the river bank.
The bottle was at an angle, Killian midway through replacing the stopper. Ella watched in horror as the black liquid spilled out, running, dripping down Killian’s hand.
He dropped the bottle. Time slowed to a snail’s pace. Ella stared in horror at the essence splattered on Killian’s arm.
An expression of shock and surprise on his face, Killian staggered with the rocking of the skiff. He stumbled and lurched backward.
Ella watched as he fell into the frigid waters of the Sarsen. Killian’s body landed in the water with a splash, and began to sink out of sight.
"Killian!" Ella screamed.
Ella leapt out of the boat and onto the bank, peering into the dark water, looking for any trace, any flash of skin or clothing.