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Kel looked up as Raoul and his squad drew away, to a grimacing Lord Wyldon and a scowling man she had never met, but identified from his uniform and arms as General Vanget.
“Keladry of Mindelan,” the general said, “you are under arrest for disobeying wartime orders, recklessly endangering lives, and treason to the throne of Tortall. You and your conspirators will be held until your court martial can be arranged.”
“Sir--,”
Kel grimaced as Neal spoke up, then glanced over as he cut off abruptly. Wyldon had leveled a look at Neal, and for once in their lives, it seemed to have worked.
“Nealan of Queenscove, Merric of Hollyrose, and Owen of Jesslaw, you are complicit in these crimes,” Wyldon said heavily. “The rest of you…” His gaze swept to encompass Kel’s other yearmates and the soldiers from Haven. “...shall face a disciplinary hearing and, assuming you are found to have been following orders given with feigned authority, face minimal consequences.”
Kel breathed a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening that they would be spared, at least.
“Well?” Wyldon demanded.
Kel met his gaze and swallowed. “I stand by my actions, my lord,” she said clearly. “I will cooperate with whatever disciplinary measures you see fit.”
Something that, in another circumstance, Kel would have thought was pride filled Wyldon’s gaze, and he nodded at her.
Vanget stepped forward and bound Kel’s wrists, though not tightly, before moving on to bind the others’. That done, the convicts were shepherded into a barred wagon, and set off. Kel glimpsed Raoul through the bars, flashing her the hand signals for “Don’t give up” and “We can fight this” before the wagon rolled out of view. Kel sent up another prayer for the mercy of the wagon, rather than a forced march, and let her exhaustion overtake her.
It was dark when she awoke, to be ushered out of the wagon and into a holding cell in a fort that she distantly identified as Northwatch. The cell had a small, barred window, and Kel was left alone in hers, though she could hear her fellow ‘conspirators’ in the one next door. The guards pushed some bread and water in after them, then left them alone.
“Kel?” Neal’s voice called through the wall.
“I’m here,” she said wearily.
“What’s the plan?” Owen asked.
Kel sighed. “We cooperate with the court martial,” she said. “I’m sorry that I dragged you all into it, and I’ll do my best to convince them it wasn’t your fault and it should be all on me, but--”
“Yes, because you dragged us kicking and screaming on your little escapade,” Neal drawled. “Kel, we made our choices, same as you.” Behind him, Merric and Owen both murmured their agreement.
Kel sighed again. “Just promise me that if they give you an out, you’ll take it,” she said. “You’re not going to do any good falling on your swords for me.”
“Kel!” Kel whipped around as a different voice came from behind her.
“Dom?” she asked, squinting at the shadowed figure she could now see outside the barred window.
“My lord’s going to do everything he can to get you out,” Dom said. “And his lordship of Cavall’s livid too, so maybe some of the conservatives calling for your head will listen to him. So don’t give up, please, and don’t…well, I know you wouldn’t do anything crackbrained, but Meathead?”
“Must you heap childish insults on me in my current affliction?” Neal complained.
Dom snorted. “Fine, but don’t do anything meatheaded, alright? They’ll see that you did the right thing. Just don’t give them any more reasons to push.”
“I suppose I can behave myself nicely,” Neal said. “At least until they sign my execution warrant. Then I make no promises.”
“Fair enough,” Dom said. He turned back to Kel, and she realized he’d stuck his fingers through the bars, for all his whole hand wouldn’t fit.
She moved over to him, trying to figure out what he was doing. His fingers twitched, and realizing what he wanted, though she was still puzzled, she reached up to brush them with her own.
“We’ll do everything we can from out here,” Dom murmured. “Don’t lose hope, okay?”
Kel smiled wryly at him. “At least you’re in the clear,” she said. She bit her lip, hesitant. “Can you make sure Tobe’s looked after? Get him to Stefan Groomsman at the palace, or to Daine, if you can, please?”
“We’ll take care of him,” Dom promised. His eyes seemed to be searching her face for something, but Kel couldn’t quite tell what it was. “I’ll be back tomorrow with news,” he said at last, and squeezed her hand, as much as he could.
Kel watched him fade into the darkness, then settled on the small cot. “Good night,” she called through the wall.
“Night, Kel,” the others called back. Kel settled into her cot and was asleep almost at once.
“They don’t look like heroes,” a voice, accented in a way she wasn’t familiar with, woke Kel.
“We are heroes, or Kel is, anyway, and if you’ve got any sense--”
“Neal!” Merric hissed.
Kel’s eyes flew open at the tension in his tone. It was daylight, and she was lying on the ground, looking up at a brown-skinned young man with short cropped black hair and vibrant green tattoos on both forearms. She scrambled up and collided with someone behind her.
“Easy,” a different unfamiliar accent said as firm hands steadied her. Kel turned to see a dark-skinned young woman holding a bronze-capped wooden staff in one hand.
Kel’s eyes swept around. There were two more people she didn’t recognize, both younger than the other two. On the ground or in various stages of scrambling up as Kel had were Neal, Merric, Owen, and Dom. They were, interestingly, not in Northwatch’s holding cells, but in the open, in what appeared to be a temple courtyard.
“Which one of you is the Protector?” the tattooed man asked.
“It’d have to be her, ain’t it?” the voice that had initially woken Kel, belonging to the younger boy, said, nodding at Kel. “The Protector’s always called ‘she’.”
Kel felt the woman bracing her shrug. “Sometimes legends get garbled,” she said.
Kel’s mind raced, trying to gauge which questions might get them useful answers without giving up any advantage they might have. “How did we get here?” she asked, deciding.
“I made a dance to go along with ‘The Protector and the Death Mage’,” the younger boy said. “And then we did it. Well, I danced it, but they helped work the magic.” He gestured around at the others. “So, you’re the Protector from the days of old, then? The one who killed a hundred ghost machines and then the mage who made ‘em, with only a dog and a staff, and then led the ghosts back to their families?”
Kel fixed her best Yamani mask in place. On the one hand, being overly intimidating might be advantageous at the moment, at least until they figured out where they were and how to get home. On the other hand…how on earth had their mission gotten that outlandish a rumor that quickly, and what on earth were these people, their eyes bright with desperation and hope, expecting her to do because of it?
“Pardon me,” Neal broke in, “but you said that the Protector is ‘from the days of old’? But she only slew the death mage a few days ago, for us anyway.”
“Oh right,” the woman still bracing Kel said. “It’s 1045. KF,” she added after a moment, “in case you didn’t have the same calendar back then.”
Neal let out a low whistle.
“What year was it for you, then?” the younger girl asked, piping up for the first time. “The legends never say, really.”
“460 HE,” Kel said. “Does that mean anything to you?”
They all shrugged. “We need Coppercurls for that kind of thing, but she’s out of range,” the man said.
“But then, you need help,” Owen said, straightening up. “Or you wouldn’t have tried so hard to call us, with the dance and everything. What’s going on?”
“Yeah, we do,” the tattooed man admitted grimly. “We’ve got a death mage of our own.”
The land they were in, Kel found out in the ensuing hours, was called Emelan, and the city Summersea. The mages who had worked the spell to summon them were named Briar, Daja, Pasco, and Evvy, and they worshipped a pantheon called “The Living Circle” gods and mentioned a few by name as their individual patrons. Kel had never heard of them, as individuals or as a group, but she kept that to herself. The death mage called himself Osiro Fleshcrawler, could apparently re-animate the dead to do his bidding, and had been terrorizing the city. The ducal citadel and the temple were holding out, but only just, and the neighboring lands had all cut off any sources of outside aid.
“So did everyone just fall asleep and then wake up here?” Owen asked, when they were left alone for a short while to settle into a suite of guest rooms they’d been shown to.
Kel, Neal, and Merric all nodded their agreement, but Dom grimaced. “I might have been…doing something,” he said, “that might have…contributed to the situation.”
They all stared at him.
“Look, I wasn’t expecting this,” he said, waving his hands. “I was hoping they might get the king to put his foot down about it, or Lord Wyldon to retroactively say you did have orders, or, something.”
“Dom, what did you do?” Kel asked, proud of how calm her voice was.
“I prayed!” Dom said defensively. “I prayed at every shrine Northwatch had set up, and I lingered at one because, well, he was the only god I can remember you ever mentioning, Kel, at least as anything other than a formality, and then, well, I must have passed out or something, and then I woke up with all of you.”
Kel’s mind raced. She didn’t, on the whole, tend to concern herself with the gods much beyond their due respect. She racked her brain for any conversations about the gods she might have with Dom, and then she remembered the one they’d had near the Scanran border last year, when he’d suggested that griffin feathers might allow her to see through illusions. “Oh no,” she said softly, more to herself than to any of the others. “Oh no, he’s going to be laughing so hard.” She collapsed into one of the arm chairs, her head in her hands, not sure whether she was going to laugh or cry.
“Kel?” Owen asked worriedly.
“Who are we dealing with?” Neal demanded.
When Kel didn’t answer, Dom cleared his throat. “I’ve really only heard about him from Kel,” he said tentatively. “But he’s a Yamani god named Sakuyo.”
Merric and Owen didn’t react, but Neal’s mouth opened. “Tell me I’m misremembering the name of the Yamani trickster god,” he said, his voice almost cracking.
Kel came up from behind her hands. “Nope,” she said flatly. “That’s him.”
“Well, there isn’t any mention of “Human Era” we could find,” Owen said that evening, dropping into a chair. “Nor any country that Neal or I recognized.” The two of them had spent the afternoon with Evvy and Pasco, the two younger of the mages that had summoned them, in the temple’s libraries.
Kel sighed but nodded, having already resigned herself to that likely being the case.
“There is magic that resembles the Gift, though they call it academic magic,” Neal added, collapsing into his own seat. “But there’s also…it sounds a lot like what I know of wild magic, honestly, except that it isn’t just animals. Briar’s got it with plants, and Evvy with stones, which, fine, straightforward enough, but then Daja has it with smithwork, which, okay, maybe is a combination of fire and metal so still more or less elemental, but then Pasco has it with dancing, which isn’t even a physical thing with defined properties--” He threw up his hands. “So don’t ask me how that works.”
Owen patted Neal consolingly on the shoulder. “How’s the plan going?” he asked the others. Kel, Dom, and Merric had been meant to spend the afternoon strategizing, ostensibly with Briar and Daja, though the two Emelanese were not currently present.
Dom waved him over to their table, where a map was laid out. “The bodies have both the palace and the temple in a siege, more or less,” he said. “And there’s not really a way to get rid of them, because you can’t kill them. Hacking them into pieces, or burning the muscle away, makes them a little less effective, but not by enough. Physically impeding them is the best anyone’s been able to do. And we’re not sure where Fleshcrawler’s hiding.”
“We also aren’t certain killing Fleshcrawler will do anything except stop him from making more,” Kel put in. “If it is this ambient magic, once he works on them it might be out of his control. He doesn’t seem to be controlling them each individually; just giving them general orders to follow.”
Neal frowned. “I’ve heard legends of things like that; golems, they were called,” he said. “That might mean they don’t have much ability to think for themselves.”
Kel nodded. “Do you know anything about how Bone Dancer works?”
Neal’s eyebrows rose at the shift in focus, but he nodded, considering the comparison. “The Graveyard Hag gave Daine the power to raise the dead temporarily when she was with the delegation in Carthak,” he said, his voice far too casual in Kel’s opinion for the matter at hand. “Mostly she raised skeletons from the royal museums, and nearly all of them went back to rest afterward, but Bone Dancer stayed, I think at the behest of the Hag, and Lindhall was all too happy to take charge of him. I don’t know the details of how that raising worked though; whenever anyone who was there talks about it, it’s just a lot of hand wavey “the Hag did it”. And Numair doesn’t like people asking Daine about it, and Father forbade me from asking either of them directly, so…”
Kel’s eyes sharpened at the mention of Duke Baird, then focused on Neal. “You trained as a healer,” she said.
Neal raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes, and?”
“What are bodies made of?” Kel asked. “Some of it’s water, right? And is bone rock, or close enough? Can we find people who have this ambient magic for parts of the bodies?”
Neal let out a low whistle.
“That’s not a terrible idea,” Daja said from the doorway, startling them.
“Bone isn’t rock though,” Evvy said, trotting in after her.
“No,” Neal said slowly. “It’s closer to seashells than rock.”
“We do have some water mages here at the temple,” Daja said.
“Fusspot,” Evvy said, wrinkling her nose.
“Myrrhrtide,” Daja chided absently. “But yes, he’d be best for water.”
“Are seashells like snails?” Evvy asked.
“Similar, yes,” Neal said. “Why?”
“I think Catala can do snails,” Evvy said. “Rosethorn’s been having her talk to the garden crawlies for her.”
“Worth a try,” Daja agreed. She focused back on Neal. “Any other magic types we should look for?”
“Any kind of animal,” Kel said. “And possibly food,” she added slowly. They all blanched, and Kel grimaced. “I know, but it's possible.”
Daja looked like she was listening to something Kel couldn’t hear. “Briar says he’ll talk to Gorse,” she said after a moment.
Kel stared at her.
“About food,” Daja clarified. “He’s got some cooking magic, though neither of us are really sure how it works.”
“But how did you…”
“Oh, they mindspeak, if nobody’s mentioned that,” Evvy said.
“You can mindspeak?” Neal exclaimed. “Can everyone?”
“Nah, it’s just four of them,” Evvy said.
“But how?”
“Go find Catala, please, Evvy,” Daja cut in. “I'll find Myrrhtide.” She shooed the younger woman out of the study in front of her.
Neal collapsed into a chair, rubbing his temples. “Mindspeak, they tell me. It’s only four of us, it’s no big deal, they tell me. Does anything in this place make sense?”
Dom clapped him cheerfully on the shoulder. “My dear Meathead begins to riot when he finds his book learning can’t account for everything,” he said. “At least my world still makes sense.”
Kel’s lips twitched as Neal glowered at Dom. “We should ask what the distance on that is, and who the others are,” she said aloud. “It could be useful.”
“It could be like the Voice,” Dom pointed out. “He can commune with all the Bazhir, even at a distance.”
“So what are doing with these new mages?” Merric asked, and Kel welcomed the change in topic.
“Is there a list somewhere of everyone who’s on hand, and what their magics are? Or their expertise? If they're not magic but know any healing or anatomy, or history, or…” She sighed, trying to figure out if she could catch up with Daja to ask if she ran.
“I’ll go catch them and see,” Owen said, jumping up, and Kel nodded gratefully at him before turning back to the map.
“We’ve got to deal with the temple siege before we can even get to the palace,” she said. “But Fleshcrawler’s probably holed up somewhere in the city, so once we’re free of here we could either focus on him or on trying to free the palace.” She locked eyes with Dom, who was nodding thoughtfully.
“We need to find Fleshcrawler,” Dom said. “ ‘When in doubt, shoot the mages’, and all that. Especially since in this case he’s both mage and commander.”
Kel nodded. “We need one of the locals to give us a rundown of the city and likely hiding spots. Have you ever done a city hunt like this?” she asked Dom. In Corus such work was usually handled by the Provost’s Guards, but it wasn’t uncommon for the Own to work with them when more manpower was needed.
“Not in command,” Dom said, shaking his head. “Once, about five years back, in Port Caynn, but I was taking orders from a guardsman, and I wasn’t involved in the seeking, I was just part of the net and helping to set up the bait.”
Kel nodded, disappointed but not surprised.
“Pasco said he was with the city guards,” Neal noted. “So he’ll probably have some ideas.”
“Well that’s good at least,” Kel sighed.
“Daja said she’ll ask around about records,” Owen said, coming back into the study.
The results of the subsequent inquiries, when everyone returned, were mixed. Catala’s gift was clearly with the living creatures themselves, and couldn't affect a shell beyond encouraging the creature inside it to move. Gorse had some cooking magic, but couldn't affect raw ingredients. Myrrhtide had some limited success manipulating a piece of meat by focusing on its water content, but tired quickly.
“If we can't control them then we need a better way to stop them,” Kel said.
“And hacking them up doesn't do much?” Dom clarified. “They just pull themselves back together?”
“It slows them down a bit, but that’s all,” Briar confirmed.
“Burning? Kel asked.
“It’s too risky,” Pasco said. “Too many wooden buildings, and if we put out our stuff quickly enough, it won’t damage them enough to not be able to reform.”
“What about ice?” Dom asked. He looked at Myrrhtide. “Can you freeze water?”
“No,” he said, “but some of the air dedicates can make things cold, I think.”
Kel turned the list Daja had given her over in her hands, scanning it.
“What state are these bodies in?” Dom asked suddenly. “Are they decaying?”
“Very much so,” Pasco said, wrinkling his nose. “The smell’s awful.”
“Do they have maggots?” Dom asked, looking excited.
Daja tilted her head. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “You think…”
Dom nodded and looked at Catala, whose brow was furrowed. “People are a lot bigger than snail shells,” she said slowly.
Kel’s eyes widened as the connection caught up with her. “You think if we could get to the maggots we could get to the bodies.”
Catala shrugged.
“And don’t forget, we still have to find Fleshcrawler,” Merric said.
“Can you summon him the way you did us?” Owen asked Pasco.
Pasco frowned. “I think the gods were meddling to help that work,” he said. “Not that I’m complaining, mind, but I feel like it wouldn’t get us him. Otherwise the harriers could just use it to find criminals all the time. Plus, we had the ballad. There’s power in rhymes and songs and such.”
“I don’t suppose any of you are poets,” Briar remarked.
Four Tortallan faces winced as the fifth broke into a broad grin. “As a matter of fact,” Neal said smugly. “I am.”
“Not a very good one,” Merric muttered.
“I’ll have you know…” Neal began.
“See if you can come up with something,” Kel sighed. “It’s not like we have a lot of options. The rest of us will keep working on recon.”
“My lord had a stone that could create an illusion over a map,” Dom spoke up. “Terrain, troops, things like that, made it easier to see them. Do you think you could find something by dancing over a map?”
Pasco considered. “Mayhaps. I think I’d need something of him though, some trace of his magic or some such.”
“Can we take a prisoner from the siege lines?” Merric asked.
Pasco blanched. “I mean if you want to go out there…”
“We might have to,” Kel said grimly. “Can you look into if the dance would be possible though? See if you can find Briar with it or something?”
Pasco nodded. “I’ll try. We’ll need a big map.”
Kel nodded absently, sorting that idea as out of her hands for now.
“Neal, what happens if you try to heal something undead?” she asked.
“My dear Keladry, when do you think I would have had an opportunity to learn that?”
“What do you think would happen then?”
“It might repair some of the decay,” Neal mused, thinking. “Or, because undeadness is against the natural order of things, healing them would mean making them dead again. Re-dead? Normal dead? Less terrifying dead?”
“Let’s go with re-dead,” Kel said, drumming her fingers on the table and pointedly ignoring Neal’s flat look at her casualness. “Do we have a way to test that?”
“If we can capture some of them, probably,” Neal said, running his fingers through his hair. “I still haven’t the foggiest idea how to do that remotely safely though.”
“Can you just have some vines grab one of them?” Daja asked Briar.
He grimaced. “They don’t like going anywhere near the things, but maybe.”
“And don’t forget we’ll have to deal with it, once we get it,” Merric pointed out. “And we’re still not sure what all they can do, and if Fleshcrawler’s in direct contact with them…”
“We’d be showing our hand,” Kel finished, nodding. “So we have to make sure the plan’s waterproof before then, and that we can execute it fast.”
“And you know what they say about waterproof plans…” Dom remarked.
“It just means the enemy will use fire,” Kel sighed, nodding. “But we’re running out of options,” she pointed out.
Dom nodded grimly. “I know. I think this is a good route. I just…”
“I know,” Kel said. “I don’t like it either, but what else…?” She sagged, and Dom caught her around the waist, gently helping her into a chair.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said soothingly, perching himself on the arm of the chair he’d just helped her into. “The temple and palace’s defenses are holding; they won’t hold indefinitely but we don’t have to solve this tonight. Maybe you need a break.”
“I can’t take a break,” Kel exclaimed. “We’ve got a rogue death mage and no idea where he is and we’re besieged by undead that we still don’t understand and…”
“He’s right,” Briar cut in. “You’re tired and you’re stuck. You’ve got to give your mind a chance to catch up with it all, and do something else in the meantime.”
Kel glanced past him to see Daja and Neal murmuring to each other, Neal looking increasingly pleased, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Daja met her gaze and smiled. “Come on,” she said. “I think I can help.”
Two hours of staff practice later, Kel grudgingly admitted it had helped clear her head. For all Daja wasn’t a warrior by trade, her skill with the staff was forbiddable, and it had been a while since Kel had fought with a bare staff and not one that also had a bladed component she could utilize. By the time they called a halt, it was late, and even more grudgingly Kel admitted that she needed sleep if she wanted to hope to make good progress the next day.
The suite was quiet when she returned to it, and she supposed it made sense that the boys had all turned in. When she opened the door, though, she saw that Dom was ensconced in one of the armchairs in their common space, reading by lamplight.
He smiled up at her, marked his place and made his way across the room. “The others went to bed,” he said quietly. He searched her face in the dim light. “You look better.”
“I feel better,” Kel admitted. “You were right. I’m still not sure I can sleep, but at least I feel like I have a decent chance at it now, and I know I need to.”
“Good.” Dom cupped her face gently with one hand. “We’ll get through this, Kel. We always have.”
“Thanks, Dom,” Kel whispered, letting herself lean into the touch even as her stomach flipped uncomfortably.
His other hand slipped around her waist, and Kel’s breath caught as he pulled her closer. His lips brushed gently against hers, and she pressed back against him, her arms winding themselves around his torso. His arm around her tightened as the kiss deepened, and suddenly Kel’s mind caught up with her body, and she drew back, panting slightly.
Dom let go of her quickly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought…”
Kel bit her lip. “It’s not you,” she assured him, not quite meeting his gaze. “I just…this is a lot, and we’re both exhausted, and…”
“I’ve wanted to do that since we caught up to you at Giantkiller, if that helps,” Dom murmured.
Kel stared at him, startled.
He offered her a half-smile. “But if you’re not interested, or you’re not ready…gods, I didn’t think you were interested, until just now, or I would have…well no, maybe I wouldn’t have, given...everything. But…”
“I…” Kel was torn between pride and frustration with herself that she’d managed to keep her crush that tightly under wraps. “If we make it through this, I’ll be very interested,” she said. “I’ll… still be interested, but right now…”
“I get it,” Dom said, and he took her hand gently and squeezed it. “Good night, Kel.”
“Good night,” she whispered, squeezing back, and then fled into her room and shut the door. She leaned against it catching her breath for a moment, and then beelined for the bed, not bothering to undress, and lost herself in sleep.
Kel woke feeling more rested than she expected to, and she devoured the porridge that a slim Dedicate Daja had introduced as Lark put in front of her with gusto. Evvy sat down next to her with a steaming mug that smelled uncannily close to the tea Kel had come to love while living in the Yamani Isles, and Kel closed her hands gratefully around her own cup a few minutes later.
“Oh this is jolly,” Owen said, peering down at the porridge he’d just taken a bite of. “What is this brown powdery stuff?”
“Cinnamon,” Pasco said happily over his own bowl. “I guess the temple decided we were worth something.”
“Rosethorn sent it along special,” Evvy said. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s sympathy or faith in us though.”
“Everyone’s doing their best to figure this out,” Lark chided lightly. “And for those of us who can’t think of anything directly to help, the least we can do is make sure those who do have things they can do are as happy and productive as possible.”
Two days and several hours of planning and testing later, they had a plan.
“Does anyone see anything remotely likely that we haven’t accounted for?” Kel asked, for what felt like the hundredth time. They were in the temple’s “hub”, a tall tower in the absolute center of the temple’s circular layout. The Head Dedicate, Moonstream, several other members of the temple’s leadership, and everyone they’d identified as having skills useful for their plans were all scanning the slate where Neal had laid out the plan again, and either looking satisfied or shaking their heads thoughtfully.
Kel took a deep breath. “Siege breakers to Briar then, please,” she said, gesturing to one side of the room, and the plant mage moved to lean against the wall as several others, including Evvy, Catala, Myrrhtide and a number of other water mages, and a few earth and air mages picked their way through the packed room to join him.
“And mage finders to me,” she said, stepping to stand by the opposite wall. All four of the other Tortallans, Daja, Pasco, Moonstream, and a handful of other mages and fighters came to stand with them. “The rest of you will stay here to run support. Clearwater will monitor both teams by scrying, and send word to team leaders through the hand mirror when there’s information.”
The mirrors were perhaps the piece of magic Kel was most jealous of from this land, operating the way fire-speaking did in Tortall, but once made, they could be activated and used without a mage directly present. They were difficult to produce and very expensive; the temple had three that connected them to other temples or universities around the realm, and only two pairs on hand that could be used locally, but even still they were a godsend.
“Right,” Kel said. “This is our best shot then. Remember the plan, but don’t shrink away from adapting it if it’s needed. When it’s needed. Listen to whoever’s in charge of your unit; remember that you agreed they should be in command for a reason. Protect each other. Have each other’s backs. If we all do our part, and the gods smile on us, we’ll make it through.” She took another look around the room, meeting each person’s eyes at least once before she ended on Dom, who gave her a small nod, eyes intense as he looked at her.
Kel took another deep breath and nodded. “Here we go then,” she said. “Siege breakers, you’re up. May the gods guide all of us towards a city again at peace.” It was a variation on a Yamani blessing, but it seemed similar to other things she’d heard from the more religious of the temple dedicates over the past few days.
“So mote it be,” the Tortallans murmured, as the Emelanese murmured their own varied forms of agreement. Kel nodded at Briar, who stood up from his lean against the wall, squared his shoulders, and walked towards the door, his team following after. When Evvy, bringing up the rear, had passed through the doorway. Kel straightened her own posture and led her own team after them. If the gods smiled on them, and maybe even if Sakuyo was laughing, she had another death mage to take down.
“Captive acquired and coming our way,” Daja said. They were in a small area that was as secure as they could make it near the temple’s wall, a map of the city and surrounding area that Lark, who Kel had learned was a thread mage, had embroidered and that Pasco was poised to dance over as soon as he could get a read on Fleshcrawler’s magic. The most likely places they’d identified were marked on a paper copy of the map nearby, along with the best routes to each of them from three different possible exit routes from the temple. Each of the likely spots were also labeled with a small number between one and four. The scrying dance had worked on Briar and a couple of other temple dedicates that they’d tried it on -- it didn’t give the location of the mage, but it did show the target’s magical traces, with brighter color in the places where there was more residue, and they were hoping that the most concentrated traces outside of the temple and the palace would be wherever the death mage was hiding, but if the scrying dance didn’t give them a clear answer, or if they’d failed to procure one of the undead for testing, they’d go to each location in order looking for him.
What looked like a ball of thorny vines with a figure thrashing in the middle of it rolled into their area, Briar and a couple of other mages in its wake. Briar maneuvered the undead into the corner of the map they’d marked out for it, and then one of the air dedicates began to play on a small wooden flute, Beal began to recite the lines he and one of the temple librarians had decided on, and Pasco began to dance.
Color began to appear in a shimmering green, over the map. “It’s picking up Briar, because of the vines,” Daja murmured, and Kel winced. They hadn’t tested the dance with multiple magicked materials in the mix, and it seemed that the focus on the necromancy in the verses wasn’t enough to make the dance zero in on the undead rather than the vines. She breathed out a sigh of relief though as an inky black color began to appear as well, and leaned over the map with Dom as much as she could without getting in Pasco’s way.
“There,” Dom said, pointing towards the map that was now covered in hazy strands and patches of green and black fog. His shoulder brushed against hers as he gestured, and she felt herself relax slightly at his solid presence beside her. The spot he pointed to was the one marked “3” on their corresponding paper map, and Kel stared at it, pulling up the route to it in her mind as Pasco sank into a deep dip and held it at the corner of the map.
“Mage finders to Point 3, with 2, 1, and 4 the next priorities,” Kel said, relieved that it did seem to be one of the spots they’d anticipated and plotted contingencies for. “We’ll go as soon as there’s an opening, on my signal. Siege breakers to return to the fight at the walls.”
“Siege breakers are making progress at exit point A,” Moonstream said. “It shouldn’t be long now that there’ll be an opening.”
Pasco sagged and Lark caught him, bundling him in her arms briefly before he straightened and came to stand with the line of people forming up behind Kel. Briar and the ones who’d helped him bring the undead were already moving back towards the wall. The undead stayed entwined in the ball of vines, and a dedicate came forward with a set of shackles for it, but it seemed to have stopped moving.
When her people were assembled, Kel set out towards the gate. The initial push past the siege line would be the hardest, and the most important, Kel knew. The temple’s defenses were set to let things out but not in; if they left through the gate and met an ambush, they would not be able to retreat back into the safety of the temple. Once they passed the thin line that marked the edge of the temple’s circle of protection, they were on their own until the threat was neutralized and the temple lowered their defenses.
Kel grimaced, but she made herself watch the happenings outside closely as they came to the gate, peering through the portcullis. She heard gasps and gags from behind her, and she didn’t blame them. She, Dom, and Merric in particular had tried to talk to each of the team members individually about what to expect from the fighting, but she knew from her own experiences that no amount of briefing prepared you for normal war, let alone the unnatural monstrosities in play here.
The undead who were still fighting were in various states of decay and disarray, and the ones who weren’t still fighting…some seemed stalled, flailing, and Kel knew that was water mages or possibly the bug mage holding them back as best they could. Several corpses lay icily on the ground. Others looked like they were withering where they stood, slowly sagging. Thorny vines slithered away from some who had gone still and towards others who were still surging forwards towards the wall. Small, carefully targeted bursts of fire flew towards some of the more active ones, and harsh winds whipped around the battlefield. A definite swath was being cut through their ranks, the wind keeping others from surging into it, and Kel signaled for the portcullis to be raised. A couple of minutes later, the opening Kel had been waiting for appeared, and she dropped her hand sharply twice and ran forward.
She ran into the gap, the shield and spear she’d been given raised, but the air seemed to be holding the creatures back. Pasco was at her right shoulder, and she fell back slightly as they made it past the siege line and into the cover of the residential districts, letting Pasco take the lead through the city streets and positioning herself to cover him. Dom was on her left, the temple folks behind them, with Merric, Neal and Owen guarding the rear of their group.
The city was unsettlingly quiet. Many of its residents had reached shelter in either the temple or the palace before the sieges took hold, and the ones who hadn’t were presumably either hiding in their homes or were part of the siege. It was eerie to see the rampant signs of recent destruction but with a complete absence of bodies.
They made quick progress, occasionally having to skirt debris but meeting no active resistance. As they drew close to the edge of the location as it had been marked on the map, Pasco slowed, and Kel signalled for a halt. Leaving the others behind, she and Dom crept forward to peer around the corner of the next building, and she felt her stomach clench in grim satisfaction at the sight that greeted them.
It looked like a townhouse, whole and untouched in stark contrast to the buildings around it, and surrounding it was a circle of the creatures, armed with rough armor and swords and facing outward, moving their heads slowly from side to side as though surveying the surrounding area. Kel ducked back, one hand trailing over Dom’s arm so that he retreated with her. He turned his arm to clasp hers as they fell back to the group, and she clasped it back for a long moment before letting it go and focusing on the group.
“There’s a ring of undead guards around a townhouse,” she said. “They’re armed, though neither armor nor swords look to be very good quality. They outnumber us, but if what we saw back there holds, they’ll be slow and not particularly skilled.”
“Anything metal I can rust,” Daja said, and Kel nodded at her. Any advantage they could get was a welcome one.
“Mages, do what you can from a distance,” Kel told them all. “Fighters, you’re with me. We take out any of the guards the mages can’t, and then we breach the house by any means necessary. Once inside, we stick together if at all possible. We’re blind in there; we don’t know where in the house Fleshcrawler is, we don’t know the layout, and we don’t know what other nasty surprises he might have planted. Be careful. Watch each other’s backs.” She met each of their eyes once before nodding sharply again.
“Let’s get him,” Owen said, even with a hint of his usual lilt but still grimmer than she thought he’d ever heard him. Kel nodded, and led them towards the hideout.
After another peek around the corner of the next closest building, Kel gave the signal. She watched, fascinated, as rust blossomed across the armor and swords. The guards didn’t seem to notice, even once the metal began crumbling and falling to the ground. A few moments later, several of them seemed to stiffen, and Kel knew that was one of the water or air mages incapacitating them. She gave the second signal and charged.
The fighters rushed forward, and Kel knew that they must have crossed some kind of ward line because suddenly all of the undead guards’ faces snapped towards them, and the ones who weren’t being held still by the mages surged forward, each one brandishing one hand as though they were still carrying a sword. Kel brought her shield to bear on the one approaching from her left, shoving it backwards, and fended off the one approaching from her right with her spear. Merric and Owen sprinted past her, trusting her and the others to keep the guards occupied, and applied a liberal smear of blaze balm down the side of the door. Kel gave the call to retreat, and they did, and then there was a loud boom as one of the fire mages blew the door, taking pieces of the nearest guards with it.
As soon as the debris settled, Kel surged forward and through the opening, Dom and Merric hot on her heels. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see some of the guards refocusing on them, and she hoped that the mages and the fighters she’d tasked with holding off such attackers would be able to do so.
The front room of the townhouse was empty, and they ran through. There was a set of steps leading down and some leading up, and Kel allowed herself a moment’s thought before charging down the lower. She skidded to halt inside a torchlit stone workroom.
A man sat at a desk, drawing runes on a large, flat stone and surrounded by what looked like samples taken from the bodies. He was pale, thin, and looked like he didn’t take the best care of himself. His nose seemed to be bandaged. Despite the stark differences in their faces, his resemblance to the Nothing Man made Kel swallow.
He stood as they entered, hissing something, and Kel whirled as four more guards emerged from the shadowed corners of the room. She thrust her spear towards one, blocking its sword and then twisting to jab at its middle. She heard the dull thud of sword on staff behind her, and then felt a rush of air surge past.
Fleshcrawler’s hissing cut off abruptly, and as Kel used her shield to send the undead she’d engaged several feet backward into the wall, she chanced a look. He was immobilized where he stood, face furious and mouth working furiously but looking like it was gagging on nothing and his hair fluttering about as Moonstream’s air shackles bound him. The last guard’s sword and armor turned to rusted dust as Kel surveyed the room. Daja, Merric, Owen, and Dom all moved to hold the guards back. Moonstream held her arms, still extended towards Fleshcrawler, steady. Kel kept her spear at the ready, but she moved to peer closely at the mage, letting her usual smooth expression fall away to show her utter disgust at him. He glared at her but did not move.
“Let him speak, please,” Kel said, and she saw Moonstream flick a finger.
“You can’t kill me,” the mage said, spitting at her feet. “I’m the only one who can call them off.”
Their orders were to apprehend him if they could, not only so that he could face proper justice but in the chance that killing him didn’t quiet the dead. Kel wasn’t about to tell him that straight away, though. “We’re doing okay with the ones at the temple, seeing as how we made it all the way here,” Kel said, watching his face closely.
His eyes widened, and Kel hid her satisfaction. He wasn’t in active communication with his forces then.
“...and killing you would stop you from being able to make any more,” Kel added, shifting her grip on the spear as though she might be about to throw it.
“Very nasty spellwork you’ve got going on,” Neal remarked, coming to stand beside Kel but stooping to peer at the parchments on the desk. “Not the worst necromancy we’ve seen, of course, and I never got the chance to look at Blayce’s notes but…”
“Look out!” Daja yelled, and Kel tightened her grip on the spear, alert. Merric let out a cry, and Kel whipped around to see him crumple to the floor as the undead he’d been holding surged forward and towards Moonstream. Kel lunged to intercept it, but she wasn’t close enough. It barreled into Moonstream and threw itself on top of her, but then it suddenly flopped, limp. Belatedly Kel saw that Neal had closed his hand around the thing’s wrist, and she hurried forward to help him drag it off of the dedicate. She heard Fleshcrawler begin to hiss again before it became muffled, and the corpse they were moving sprang stiff again, fighting them. Neal’s hand tightened on its arm, his face grim and sweating, and Kel desperately tried to keep the creature at bay and in Neal’s hold, not quite understanding the struggle but knowing Neal must be doing something. Finally there was an anguished cry from behind them, and the corpse went limp.
Neal let go, shaking and sagging to the floor, and Kel flipped the corpse and sat on it to keep it down in case it reanimated. Catching her breath, she surveyed the room.
Pasco held a limp, crumpled Fleshcrawler in his grip. Dom, Owen, and Daja all held limp corpses that they were maintaining holds on. One of the other air temple dedicates was helping Moonstream to her feet, and one of the water dedicates was kneeling over Merric, murmuring something as he ran his hands over him.
“You killed him?” Kel asked, looking at Pasco.
Pasco gulped and nodded. “I know we was supposed to bring him back for justice, but he…it was a dance; I could hear it, feel it. They were dancing over the corpse, between dead and undead, and he was…I think he was going to win…”
“He was fueling them with his own life force,” Neal spoke up, though he was still seated on the ground, his voice hard and raspy. “He sent a lot of it into that one.” He nodded at the one under Kel. “That was why it was suddenly so strong and nimble, I think. He was controlling it directly instead of leaving it on autopilot, the way he left the others.”
“The others are down, too,” Daja said quietly. “Briar says they’re not fighting at the temple anymore; they’ve all gone limp. Sandry says it’s the same at the palace.”
Kel let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “So he was using his life force,” Kel said, “but the…you said there was a dance?” She looked questioningly between Neal and Pasco.
“I was healing it,” Neal said. “I tried on the one we got on the temple, and I thought it might be working but it was taking a lot out of me, so I stopped. But this one…” he took a deep breath, running his fingers through his sweaty, grimy hair. “I knew I had to stop it, and I did, briefly, but then he sent more magic into it and I held on as best as I could but…” he shuddered, and Kel bent down to clasp his shoulder, swallowing back her own horror as she realized how close it had come. “He would have won,” Neal whispered. “I was almost out of my Gift, and he was weakening but not enough. If he hadn’t…” He looked at Pasco, who gave him a grim smile and a nod.
“Thank you,” Kel said quietly to the dance mage, and then made herself turn back to the rest of the room. Merric and Moonstream were both on their feet and steady enough, considering. Others looked much the worse for wear, but nothing that demanded immediate attention. “We bring him back with us,” Kel said, nodding at Pasco. “Just in case. Is anyone not in shape to walk back to the temple in their own power?” No one spoke. “Is anyone not in shape to fight if we meet trouble?”
“I may be physically slow,” Moonstream said. “But my magic is at full capacity.”
“I might have a bruised rib, but I should be fine,” Merric said.
Kel glanced around the others, but no one else spoke up. She looked at Neal.
He gave her a wry smile. “I’m chipper as can be,” he said, though his eyes didn’t look it.
Kel sighed and held out a hand to him, and he clasped her arm. She pulled him upwards, but his legs buckled immediately. The water dedicate who had tended to Merric hurried over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He’s magically exhausted,” he said, “and he used enough of his own life force that he’s physically weakened as well. He’ll recover in time, but I’m not sure he’ll make it back on his own.”
“Meathead,” Dom said fondly, coming over to help Neal to his feet and drape his cousin’s arm around his shoulders. “I’ll see to him,” he told Kel.
“You’re needed if there’s fighting,” Neal pointed out.
“Then I’ll drop you,” Dom retorted, his lips quirking upward, and Neal sighed.
Kel fought a slight smile of her own and then nodded. “Right then,” she said. “Everyone who can be, be on alert in case there’s trouble. Dom, you’ve got Neal; Pasco, you’ve got the death mage. Owen, you’re covering Pasco directly. We’ll retrace our route here unless we run into anything that gives us a reason to diverge.” She looked around the room in case anyone had anything to add. When they didn’t, she straightened, squared her shoulders, and led the way out of the townhouse.
Their journey back was as eerily quiet as their trek out had been. Even with Briar’s reassurances through Daja, Kel breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the still, un-animated bodies around the temple. They’d all been disarmed and bound for good measure, but the siege breakers, and by the looks of it some of the other temple residents, had begun to organize them. Someone, presumably a mage, was moving methodically through the ranks with a pair of scribes trailing after them, and Kel realized they must be trying to identify all of the dead.
Things became somewhat of a blur to Kel after that. They handed the mage’s body off to be kept someplace secure, both physically and magically, until he could be more thoroughly examined. Neal, Merric, and Moonstream were tucked into infirmary cots and being looked after. Kel vaguely remembered asking Briar if there was anything else she could do before a green-robed dedicate told her tartly that she could go find her bed before she collapsed and made more work for the healers. She knew she should probably argue, but the adrenaline rush from the fight was wearing off, and so she plodded off toward their suite, dimly aware that Dom and Owen were trailing after her.
Dom drew even with her as they approached, and when Kel stumbled on the steps to the building, Dom caught her. She leaned into him gratefully, letting him half drag her to their sitting room.
Owen said something that Kel didn’t catch, and she turned to see him walk quickly towards the room he’d been sharing with Merric and close the door.
“What did he say?” she asked.
Dom seemed to hesitate. “He said he was going straight to bed,” he said. Something about the way he said it made him look slightly sheepish, but Kel couldn’t quite parse that at the moment, so she nodded and then turned wearily towards her own room. It wasn’t until she reached her bed and felt Dom’s hand lingering on her back as she collapsed onto it that she realized he’d never let go of her. She shifted to look at him, her heart beginning to race despite her exhaustion.
He bent down and brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen across her face, then kissed her mouth softly. Kel pressed back, then put a hand up to brace his chest when she felt him wobble. They broke apart, and he smiled hesitantly down at her.
Kel shifted backwards towards the far side of the bed. “If you’re too tired to make it to your own room,” she whispered. His eyes widened, and she smiled up at him. Exhaustion washed over again and she closed her eyes. “I’m going to fall asleep soon though,” she murmured.
She felt the mattress shift as Dom settled beside her, and opened her eyes again when she felt his hand find hers, lacing their fingers together. He was on his side, looking at her, and she found herself smiling at him again.
“You were brilliant,” Dom whispered. “You’ve been brilliant, every time, no matter what got thrown at us, you just…”
Kel smiled wryly at him. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Without everyone,” she amended, “but you…” She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me, and not just the mission.”
“Of course,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes, and savoring Dom’s warmth at her side, fell asleep.
She awoke to someone shaking her roughly and a number of confused shouts. Kel scrambled up and found herself face to face with Wyldon, who raised his hands in a gesture of neutrality.
“How did we get here?” Kel asked, noting her companions were scattered around her in various stages of awakening. They were on a stage of some sort, and Kel saw the familiar silhouette of the palace in the distance, which meant… “We’re in Corus,” she said. “How…?”
“We were rather hoping you could tell us,” a voice said tersely, and Kel froze as she recognized it, then hurriedly bowed.
“Forgive me, sire,” she told the king, fixing her mask squarely in place. “I don’t have any memory of traveling to Corus from Northwatch.”
King Jonathan surveyed her scrutinizingly.
“You disappeared from Northwatch ten days ago, Mindelan,” Wyldon barked gruffly. “Naturally, we assumed you’d escaped and had gone to ground. Searches were made to no effect. And now, you have just turned up, seemingly out of thin air, in full view of half of Corus, when we were trying to explain your disappearance. Report, please.” It was not a request.
Kel gulped, but before she could answer, an inhuman, booming laugh rang through the square, and several people flinched and covered their ears. Kel froze. Even without having heard that laugh before, she knew whose it must be. Her eyes fell on Shinko, standing with Roald behind Jonathan, and saw recognition on the princess’s face.
“My chosen ones have done well at the task I set for them,” the voice of that laugh said. “They have vanquished not only the death mage that plagued you, but one who plagued the children of one of my brothers as well. See to it that they are rewarded. If you insist on punishing them again, I shall be very cross. I may have to borrow them again, and perhaps that time I will not give them back.” Silence fell, and then there was a small pop followed by a shower of cherry blossoms coating the stage.
“What in Mithros’s name…?” the king began.
Shinko cleared her throat delicately. The king looked at her, startled, and Kel didn’t blame him. As comfortable as the Yamani princess had become in her new home, interrupting the king, especially in public, was not something she would do lightly. Roald gave Shinko an encouraging nod, and Jon gestured for her to speak.
Shinko took a deep breath and turned to the crowd. “I have heard that laugh once before,” she said, her voice clear and steady despite the nervousness Kel could see at the corners of her eyes. “It is the laugh of Sakuyo, a god of mischief and wholesome trickery who is revered widely in the Yamani Isles. The sakura blossoms are also a sign of his.” She paused to let that register before turning to the king. “Your Majesty, it appears that the disappearance and reappearance of Keladry and her companions was a joke Sakuyo intended for his own and our amusement. I would invite you to honor his jest with laughter, lest he interpret your dissatisfaction as a challenge to a bigger jest.”
Jonathan looked positively terrified at this, but Shinko’s eyes were crinkled in thorough amusement now. For a few moments, no one dared respond, and then Owen let out a wheeze of laughter, with Thayet’s deep melodious laugh following close behind. Kel made herself laugh more openly than she usually did, knowing that Shinko’s warning was not to be taken lightly. The crowd had begun tittering nervously, but soon surged into full laughter, and even Wyldon let out a short bark, though from the look on his face it was more tactical than truly amused.
Finally, the king too let out a series of soft, sighing, laughs. “I like to consider myself a wiser man than one who argues with a god who makes his presence known,” he said. “Lady Knight Keladry, you and your companions are hereby pardoned for any actions taken in the rescuing of the refugees of Haven and the stopping of the mage Blayce. You have our thanks, and shall receive honor and purses as soon as they can be arranged.” He still looked thoroughly unnerved, and Kel found she couldn’t blame him.
She bowed deeply to him, seeing her companions follow suit out of the corner of her eye. “We are pleased to have done the realm such a service,” she said formally, “and consider ourselves privileged to be used in Lord Sakuyo’s jest.” She paused, an idea coming to her, and took a few moments to figure out how to execute it.
In lands near and far
Two death mages worked evil
Brought right by mischief
Shinko’s eyes widened as she recognized the traditional senryu form, and gave Kel a small nod of approval. Kel offered her a smile and withdrew, breathing a sigh of relief as the king addressed the crowd and Thayet herded her and her companions off the stage on the side of the blocked-off path leading back to the palace, where there was no crowd. “I don’t pretend to understand everything, but from what I do, well done and Gods all bless, all of you,” she said warmly. “Do you need food? Healing? Sleep?”
“We were sleeping,” Kel said, surprised to find that she felt much better rested than she would have expected to.
“Food would be jolly,” Owen said. “And maybe healing for…” He looked worriedly between Neal and Merric.
“I’m right as rain,” Merric said, pressing a hand curiously to his side.
“I should still be depleted,” Neal said, looking flummoxed. “I should have barely any magic back after that fight, it’s much too soon.”
“And Sir Meathead’s back to his perfectly capable and obnoxious self,” Dom said cheerily. “I wouldn’t say no to food, myself. And ale. Pesky temple life. Not having ale was almost worse than having to fight another death mage.”
Kel threw him an exasperated look, but she smiled despite herself at his cheeky grin.
Thayet laughed. “Food and ale it is,” she agreed, leading them up the way to the palace. “We’ll give you a proper welcome home.”