The Wall tipped forward. It moved faster now.
With a sound of terrible thunder, the length of stone crashed. The trembling grew stronger, and the roar of breaking stone became impossibly loud until it stunned the senses. The ground shook in a mighty quake, and a cloud of dust rose to obscure everything as the Wall flattened the ground in front of Seranthia, crushing every plant and animal in its path.
Killian felt triumph course through him. Glancing at his runes, he saw he’d drained much of his power, but they’d done it.
He stretched his arms out at his sides and rose into the air.
Dust covered the ground, and for a moment Killian couldn’t make any sense of the upheaval in front of the city. He rose higher into the sky, and higher still, and then he could see the immense cloud of powdered stone and dirt where the Wall had fallen.
Nothing could have survived that destruction.
Killian only hoped Miro and Bartolo had made it out in time.
Rising higher still, Killian saw the heaving battle underway between the allied houses and the infantry square. If this last force could be defeated, the day would be won.
The fighting surged back and forth, but Killian felt a chill as he saw that Tiesto would be outflanked at any moment. He prepared to launch himself at the enemy and do whatever he could to help out, when something, a shiver of awareness that couldn’t be explained, made him look back at the harbor.
What he saw made him gasp.
It was incredible, impossible.
Killian realized he was needed elsewhere even more than he was needed at the battlefield below.
Killian now knew where he could find Sentar Scythran.
57
Removed from command, Rogan Jarvish stood in his armorsilk, waiting inside the city gates.
He felt frustrated. Aside from hearing the order for the defenders to leave the Wall, he had no idea what was happening outside the city, nor what the reason for the order was. He assumed they would soon be sallying from the gate to try to link up with the allied army outside.
And Rogan planned to fight.
He walked back and forth, a solitary splash of green among the ranks of purple, as he looked to the gates, wondering when they would open.
Rogan heard men gasp as a line of fire appeared in the gate. It traveled from one end to the other, cutting through the wood and iron, reaching the end and disappearing. Rogan watched in astonishment.
He looked to the soldiers, but they were as confused as he was. Still they waited.
Then a wind came up. It was a wind unlike anything Rogan had ever experienced. It buffeted his body, ripping at his clothing, and then it began to push at him from behind.
What was happening?
The fearful Tingaran legionnaires muttered and exchanged wide-eyed glances. Soon the muttering ceased as they were forced to concentrate on standing upright. Rogan crouched and felt the wind push at him. His feet slipped forward of their own accord. Some incredible lore was at play. Rogan only hoped it came from his side and not the enemy.
Then Rogan’s eyes widened and blood drained from his face as he saw the unthinkable happen.
The Wall, that great gray presence never absent from view at any quarter of Seranthia, began to wobble.
Slowly, inexorably, the indomitable height of stone began to fall forward. Soldiers cried out as they saw the unfolding destruction. Time slowed and Rogan’s awareness became heightened as the Wall tumbled forward, and now its own weight pulled it down, speeding toward the ground, and with a mighty roar of crashing stone and tumbling earth, it fell.
The soldiers pressed their hands to their ears as the fall of stone covered all other sound. The ground heaved beneath Rogan’s feet and dust rose in an all-encompassing cloud, covering the entire city.
In front of Rogan and the men who stood with him, the gates simply fell away, vanishing into the swells of dust and vaporized stone.
Rogan saw the kalif of the Hazarans struggle to control his stallion as it reared again and again. Finally, Ilathor got his mount under control.
As Rogan tried to make sense of it, he realized what they’d done. It was a terrible risk—and a great victory. Even as the fall crushed the swarming horde, the city’s primary defense was gone.
The thunder gradually subsided, leaving an eerie silence in its place, and then one man’s voice rose to break the sudden stillness.
“The city’s defenseless!” Rogan called to the men around him. He didn’t want to think about the fate of anyone who’d been below the Wall when it fell. “I’m not waiting anymore.”
Rogan gazed around and met the eyes of Marshal Trask, standing hesitantly in his armor with bands of purple. “Are you with me?” Rogan said.
Trask nodded. “We will follow, Blademaster.”
“Kalif?” Rogan called to Ilathor.
Ilathor nodded and drew his scimitar, speaking an activation sequence, sending fire along the length of the curved steel.