“Oh, Ella, I’m sorry. Miro’s fine. I don’t know when to shut up sometimes.”
“There must be something more I can do,” Ella said. “I feel so . . . powerless.”
“What was that thing they fought? Bartolo said it wasn’t like any revenant he’d seen before.” Shani shook her head. “Two bladesingers, Bartolo and your brother . . . Ella, I’ve never seen better swordsmen. Yet that thing . . .”
“Sentar was the first to ever animate a corpse. He knows the lore better than anyone.”
“Don’t worry. The Hazarans will come.”
“Even if Ilathor comes, do you really think they’ll be enough?”
“Killian will come too. He won’t leave us to hold alone.”
“I’m not so sure. We didn’t leave things on the best terms. Shani . . . Evrin told me Killian now has a woman in the palace.”
“A woman?” Shani raised an eyebrow. She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true. I know who she is. Her name is Carla, and Killian loved her long before we met.”
“You don’t know the truth of it . . .”
“I know,” Ella interrupted. “Evrin’s dead, by the way.”
Ella heard her own desultory tone as Shani’s eyes showed her concern.
“I’m sorry about Evrin. Let’s just focus on survival, shall we? Don’t worry, Ella,” Shani said. “I know you. You’ll think of something.”
35
The days grew longer and the air became warm and humid, night and day. Spring growth pushed through the forest floor, wildflowers filling the empty spaces and littering the landscape with color. The wind picked up, sending clouds in from the ocean.
Thunder rumbled overhead as the heavens turned gray.
It was the time of the rains.
Water poured from the sky in a flood, filling the air so it was hard to breathe. The winding road thickened with mud, making the going tough for defenders and attackers alike. It clamped down on the fires of the elementalists and wet the black powder. More than once a planned detonation became a fizzled failure.
Miro’s defenders had performed miracles over the last weeks. His men fought and died, holding from one blockade to the next, felling trees, digging ditches, destroying each defensive wall in detonations of earth and flame as they retreated to the next. Each rearward action took place in the last breath, with the blockades blown in mighty explosions just as they were overrun. The valiant struggle left bodies piled high.
At each stage, wherever possible, the corpses of the Alturan and Halrana dead were destroyed rather than letting them fall into the enemy’s hands. Often those wounded who couldn’t run clutched runebombs with dying hands and lit fuses of powder kegs held between their knees, sacrificing their lives rather than allowing their dead selves to fight their comrades. The winding road from the free cities to Sarostar was a river of ash and blood, steel and mud.
Now they were at the seventeenth blockade, the last before the open ground and the final defenses at Sarostar.
Ella felt she was permanently wet. Her hair was tangled with filth and dirt, and she knew every defender felt as fatigued as she did. She now walked with heavy steps as she collected the dead defenders from the last bitter engagement. Shani worked beside her as they gathered the fallen and piled them in a ditch. Already the logs underneath were burning fiercely, despite the dripping rain. This was the worst part of Ella’s job. She understood the need, but she hated it nonetheless. She and Shani, as well as the other enchanters and elementalists, were charged with burning the dead defenders.
At all costs Miro wanted to avoid adding to the enemy’s strength. More than anything, he wanted to prevent his men having to fight their compatriots.
Ella looked for more bodies and then she stopped, fists clenching at her sides.
“What is it?” Shani said, coming over.
Ella stood over an older man with a round face and balding head. His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, but his hands clutched a terrible wound in his belly.
“Fergus,” Ella whispered.
Shani gripped Ella’s shoulder. “You knew him?”
“A little,” Ella said. She wiped water from her cheeks, tears mingling with the rain.
“Go,” Shani said. “Let me do this.”
“No,” Ella said. “I’ll do it.”
Ella crouched and hooked her arms under Fergus’s armpits. She heard a groan, and she nearly dropped him in surprise.
“Shani!” Ella cried.
Shani ran forward.
“He’s alive!” Ella said. She set her mouth with determination. “Help me with him.”
Together they dragged the weakly moaning man back through the defenders. Shani disappeared while Ella examined the gash in Fergus’s stomach. Blood slowly seeped out between Fergus’s fingers. The wound looked mortal.
Shani appeared a moment later with two men in white robes and a stretcher. Ella recognized the garb. Even the priests were doing their part.