Dorian spun on his heel in a move Bartolo had seen him practice a thousand times, throwing the revenants away as his fiery blade whirled in a flash of blue and purple.
Bartolo thrust into a burly warrior, but it only had the effect of enraging his opponent. Past the creature’s shoulder Bartolo saw red robes, and a coiled ball of crimson flame smashed into the revenant. Sizzling flesh blackened in a heartbeat, and Bartolo’s opponent fell.
A second ball tore through the air, sizzling with a sound like paper being torn as it bathed another revenant in liquid fire. The fireballs came fast now, and as the revenants turned to meet this new threat Bartolo leapt forward and took two heads in succession.
The last revenant moaned as two balls of flame struck it from different directions. Its skin crackled as the flame continued its grisly work, scorching the clothing to cinders and burning the flesh until runes could no longer be discerned, and then the revenant fell, just a dark lump on the rocky ground.
Bartolo lowered his sword, panting.
Petryan elementalists in red robes stood circled around the site of the battle, the cuffs at their wrists glowing.
A dark-haired woman stepped out of their midst, a red-robed elementalist with a white rope belted around her waist. She spoke a sequence to deactivate the devices at her wrists and then smiled wearily at Bartolo.
“Shani?” Bartolo said as he gasped.
“You’re far from home,” Shani said.
Bartolo looked around him. Aside from Timo, the recruits had escaped with cuts and bruises, but his men were alive. Bartolo knelt and put his fingers to Timo’s neck, but the sightless gaze said enough.
“Men,” Bartolo started, but he had to stop, coughing. “Men,” he tried again, “some of you know my wife, Shani, an elementalist of Petrya.”
The recruits exchanged glances. Dorian dropped his zenblade and looked at his shaking hands.
“They’re pleased to meet you,” Bartolo spoke for them. “On the mountain . . . That was you?”
Shani grinned. “We’re not just wielders of fire. They call us elementalists for a reason. We saw a man in green armorsilk up on the cliff. He looked like he could use a hand.”
As Bartolo panted, Shani’s smile suddenly shifted to a frown. She came forward until she was directly in front of her husband and glared up at Bartolo’s eyes. “You were out of your depth, bladesinger, and you know it.”
“I had to . . .”
“Shut up,” Shani said. “Don’t ever do that again.”
Shani put her arms around him, and as Bartolo felt her warmth close to him, he knew she was right. The arrival of the Petryans had saved all of their lives.
But even so, Bartolo had been right to try. He decided to save that discussion for another day.
“How?” Bartolo said.
“Our patrols found the ruins of Hatlatu. We tracked them here.”
“Are there more Petryans . . .?”
“No,” Shani said, “it’s just us.”
“The tower!” Bartolo suddenly pushed his wife away. “We need to raise the tower!”
“We saw it,” Shani said. “It’s on the other side of the pass. We were about to bring it back up when we saw you and came to help.”
Bartolo instructed the recruits to stay with Timo’s body and followed Shani and her fellow elementalists back up to the pass.
They swiftly found the three-legged tower, and after casting in wide circles, they finally found the prism, buried in a pile of rock, with green light seeping through.
Bartolo was exhausted, but he didn’t rest until the tower was back up, with the signal shining fiercely. He felt relief flood through him as, looking into the southern lands from the mountain, he saw a satisfying wink of green light answer.
“They’ve called?” Shani said.
“Yes,” Bartolo said. He took a deep breath. “We have to hurry. They need us, Shani. They need all of us. Will your elementalists come to Altura?”
Shani hesitated. “Yes. I don’t care what the high lord says. I’ll force them to come if I have to.”
Bartolo gazed from the pass at the green forests of Altura.
He was exhausted.
But rest would have to wait.
28
Black smoke poured in two great spires from the coastline. The last refugees had left long ago, and now the free cities, built mostly of wood from the nearby forests, burned with a raging fire that wouldn’t cease until every building was ash.
In the aftermath of the naval battle, a single ship limped to shore. The Infinity had lost a mast and was holed in three places, but it seemed Scherlic had kept his ship together long enough to break free from the clutches of the enemy fleet. He’d somehow managed to raise enough sail to outdistance the armada and make it to shore.