Chapter 29
Tiberius
One look was all it took to realize that the focusing light spell wouldn’t stop the creature. He could hurt it, perhaps even cripple it, but it was moving too fast, and there was no place for Tiberius and Lexi to go. The war ship, which should have been waiting for them, was gone, and Tiberius knew he had to do something fast.
“
Fulguralis, fulguralis
,” he chanted softly.
He felt the magic stirring around him. Lexi took hold of his arm, her grip so tight with fear that it was pinching, but Tiberius ignored it. He felt the portal high above him opening and he directed the flow of magic straight down the tunnel. They were standing dangerously close, but there was no time to move away. Tiberius assumed they could cross the forest canopy, but it would have to be a slow, methodical process, and they just didn’t have time to do it.
“Close your eyes,” he warned Lexi, prompting an even more painful pinch on his arm.
“
Fulguralis
!” he shouted.
Every hair on his body stood on end, and there was coppery taste in his mouth. Then a blinding flash shot down right in front of Tiberius. Even with his eyes closed, the light was painful. Then came the crack of thunder, so loud it made him fall backward with fear. He was afraid that the lightning had missed its mark or that they were simply too close to the powerful spell.
When Tiberius opened his eyes, Lexi was lying beside him. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she looked.
“What are you laughing about?” she hissed angrily.
“Your hair,” he said. “You look hilarious.”
Lexi opened her eyes, and she started laughing, too. Tiberius reached up and felt his own head. His hair was sticking out from his head just like Lexi’s.
“What happened to the worm?” Lexi asked.
“I don’t know,” Tiberius said. “If it isn’t dead, we’re in big trouble.”
The roots were jabbing painfully into Tiberius’ back and sides. He got up slowly, the muscles in his back aching and every muscle starting to protest. He hadn’t gotten enough sleep and felt like there wasn’t a drop of liquid in his whole body. But he knew he had to get back to Avondale as soon as possible—only now that seemed like it might be impossible.
He peeked back into the tunnel and saw the creature. Its tentacles were still holding fast to the branches and trunks that lined the tunnel, but its mouth and eyes were black and smoking. The creature hung lifeless, blocking the tunnel and already starting to stink.
“It’s dead,” Tiberius said, his voice raw, his throat aching horribly.
“Thank goodness,” Lexi said. “I thought I was going to die, but you…”
Her eyes filled with tears, and Tiberius pulled her close. He had saved her from the monster, but he had no idea how he was going to save her from dying on the canopy of the twisted forest. Going back down to the ground wasn’t an option, not with the monster blocking the tunnel, and besides, they hadn’t seen any water on the ground. Their best chance was to try and cross the forest along the top. If their ship was anywhere near the forest, they would have a much better chance of being seen and rescued than of finding water on the ground.
Tiberius began to cough; the smoke rising from the worm monster was getting thicker and more acrid. Tiberius backed up, still holding Lexi as the terror of their ordeal passed. Tiberius felt shaky as his own adrenaline began to fade. He was tired, hungry, and most of all, afraid. The fate of Avondale was like a millstone that had been tied around his neck. He felt hopeless, scared that he didn’t know enough magic and wasn’t strong enough to wield it safely.
It wasn’t until Tiberius heard the telltale crackle of the fire that the reality of their situation broke through his fog of self-pity. The smoke was growing thicker and darker, and when Tiberius heard the popping of the wood as it burned, he realized they were in even more danger than before.
“Lexi!” he shouted. “Fire—the forest is on fire.”
“What?”
“The lightning must have started a fire,” he said, his voice croaking and his chapped lips splitting painfully. “We have to move. Now!”
He led the way, picking one sturdy looking branch, then another. It was hard to keep his balance, and there was nothing to hold onto. Still, after taking several steps, he looked back over his shoulder. Flames were already rising above the canopy around the tunnel, and Tiberius knew they would spread in every direction. He didn’t have time to worry or be afraid of each step. They had to move much faster if they were going to outrun the fire.
“Run, Lexi!” he shouted. “Don’t stop, even if I fall.”
“We’re better off together,” she said, grabbing his hand tightly.
Tiberius knew there was no time to argue. Lexi could have danced across the forest canopy, but he was slow and clumsy. His legs felt shaky beneath him to begin with, and now he needed to use every bit of strength he had just to stay upright. They ran, bouncing from one place to the next, trying to stay on the sturdier branches. The wooden limbs sometimes swayed under Ti’s weight, but the fire was relentless behind them. They passed spaces where the limbs were obviously too thin to hold them up, forcing Tiberius and Lexi to circle around the weak areas, even though the fire moved closer and closer with every second that passed.
Tiberius glanced up, hoping to see a rain cloud, but there were no clouds in the blighted lands, only the misty barrier that glowed with amber-colored sunlight. That realization was only slightly disheartening, since Tiberius hadn’t really thought they would be lucky enough to be saved by a rain shower. But then the thought struck him that they might run out of light. He could magically conjure light for them, but the transition from day to night in the blighted lands happened so fast that disaster could strike if the world suddenly grew dark.
His side was hurting so bad it felt as if someone were stabbing Tiberius with each breath. His throat was raw, and his tongue felt swollen. He was so thirsty that, had it not been for Lexi, he might have given up and let the flames consume him. But Lexi wouldn’t let go of his hand. She had no trouble keeping her balance, even on the shakiest of perches, and she often helped Tiberius stay on his feet.
Tiberius could feel the heat from the fire behind them, and his focus was entirely on the branches and roots in front of him, so he didn’t notice Dancer swooping down out of the brilliant sky.
“Dancer!” Lexi shouted in surprise and joy.
The little wind glider landed softly on Lexi’s shoulder and nuzzled her cheek before bouncing up and down and trilling excitedly. Tiberius was glad to see the little animal but even more grateful for the short break. He was bent double, breathing hard, and praying silently for a miracle.
“Show us the way,” Lexi said, tossing Dancer back into the air. “This way, Ti.”
Lexi tugged his hand, and Tiberius started moving again. He had forced himself to keep moving as they climbed back up the tunnel, refusing to rest. It had been a foolish thing to do, he realized. And had they been able to simply trudge along, he could have pushed himself to keep going, but they had no time. The flames behind them were leaping into the air and sent up a huge blanket of black smoke. The fire was spreading even more rapidly below them. Tiberius could see the flames now, down through the spaces between the limbs, trunks, and roots that made up the canopy of the twisted forest. He knew it was only a matter of time before they were lost to the flames, but he kept moving for Lexi’s sake.
“There!” she shouted, pointing.
Tiberius looked up and to his surprise he saw the war ship. The ship’s sails were all extended, and the ship was racing toward them. He guessed it would take a few minutes and they could climb aboard. For the first time since he’d seen the flames behind them, he felt a glimmer of hope and was able to increase his pace.
“Come on!” Lexi shouted. “We can make it.”
He looked at her, and time seemed to slow down. She was so incredibly beautiful. Her face was bright with hope; the high cheekbones and small chin almost gave her face a star shape. He loved her so desperately, he thought—then he felt the limb break.
The fall was sudden and jarring as he slammed into the wad of roots he’d been planning to jump to next. His head smashed into a gnarled root, splitting open a gash in Tiberius’ scalp. But that wound was nothing compared to the sudden, blinding pain in his leg. He knew instantly it was broken, and even though he was lying on branches and thankful he hadn’t fallen completely through the canopy, he knew he was in trouble.
“Tiberius,” Lexi said. “Are you okay?”
He had almost pulled her over when he fell, but she had let go of his hand and somehow managed to keep her balance. She moved quickly to his side, grabbing his arm and attempting to pull him up. The scream he bellowed was so intense that bright spots drifted in his vision and tears filled his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“My leg is broken,” he croaked.
“Oh god, Ti, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“Go,” he said, waving her on.
“You’re bleeding, and your leg is broken, I’m not leaving you.”
“Go to the ship. Bring it here.”
“There isn’t time,” Lexi argued.
“I can’t walk, Lexi. I can heal my leg, at least enough to get moving, but you’ve got to get the ship over here to me.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Dancer landed on her shoulder and chattered in a scolding manner.
“Go!” he shouted.
She turned and hurried away. He watched her going, bouncing easily from one spot to the next. He hated himself for lying to her, but he knew she wouldn’t leave him if he didn’t. He took a deep breath and tried to pull his broken leg up, but his foot was snagged in some small branches. It wasn’t stuck, but the branches pulled on his leg as he tried to move it, causing him excruciating pain.
Blood was running down the side of his head and dripping into his right eye. He swiped it away and was relieved to see Lexi snag the dangling rope ladder and begin pulling herself up. Tiberius could hear the flames behind him, and smoke was drifting up from the fire down below him. He was having trouble breathing and started to cough, but then he felt the flames around his leg. He screamed again and jerked himself forward. His broken leg was now almost free from the canopy, and he could feel the bone stabbing into his calf muscle as he tried to move it further. The fire leapt up behind him, and the burning sensation erupted with such horrible pain that Tiberius jumped away from the flames.
He landed hard, his body jolting and every muscle screaming for relief. His right leg was now broken and burned. He could feel the blisters all the way up to his knee, and his boot was ruined. The blood running down his leg from where his shin bone had sawed through the skin was now running across the blisters in an agonizing drip.
He screamed and pushed himself forward, using his hands to pull his body away from the fire. Then the war ship was over him, the rope ladder swinging toward him. He didn’t think he could pull himself up, but the flames touched his leg again, searing his flesh and jolting him into action. The end of the rope ladder was almost four feet over the top of the canopy, and Tiberius realized it was actually a testament to the captain’s skill that he had trained the soldiers to fly the war ship so accurately. If the ladder had touched the canopy, it would have almost certainly snagged on one of the craggy roots or branches. With the ship moving at speed the sudden stop would have caused major damage to the sails on the rope side of the ship, perhaps even causing the vessel to crash.
Tiberius had to heave himself upward and grab the rungs. He managed to get his arm through the space between the lowest rung and the one above. He clamped his arm down as hard as he could and screamed as the ship’s momentum jerked him upward. They weren’t high enough to keep Tiberius’s legs from dragging, even though he tried to pull his legs up toward his chest. His stomach and back simply weren’t strong enough to hold his legs up. He tried to kick himself up with his good leg, but he couldn't keep the broken and burned foot from bouncing on the rough wooden canopy. The pain was so intense he wanted to die. He would have let go, but his upper body was locked rigid with pain.
Finally the ship rose higher, and Tiberius was lifted up and away from the branches below. He spun around, saw the black smoke and the orange flames, then the brown wood of the forest, then the fire again. They sailed for almost a minute, and Tiberius felt himself slipping. He knew he couldn’t hang on much longer. Suddenly Lexi was beside him dangling from a rope and tying another line around his body.
“Hold on!” she shouted.
Then, almost like a spider moving up a web, she pulled herself up to the rope ladder, above Tiberius and then onto the ship. Tiberius felt the rope around him tighten, but he was only half-conscious by that point. He felt himself being pulled upward. The agonizing pain was slowly releasing him, then rough hands grabbed his arms and heaved him onboard the ship. The pain was so terrible, he passed out.
Chapter 30
Rafe
Waiting was the worst. Once the wall exploded, all Rafe could think about was keeping his men safe. Everyone seemed to be focused on the gaping hole in the city’s defenses, so the fire bombs came almost as a surprise.
“They’re firing, sir,” said the soldier with Rafe.
“Who?” Rafe asked, spinning around, but it was obvious what the soldier meant.
“All of them,” the man said, his breath catching in his throat so that his reply was little more than whisper.
The war ships launched fire bombs, but they were at the edge of their range. The soldiers on the walls saw the flaming pods hurdling toward them. Most of the fire bombs fell short or hit the wall on the side, rather than on top where it might do damage to the troops or the ballistae. The real danger was the fact that the oily smoke from the fires was thick, obstructing the view of the soldiers on the walls.
Rafe waved his flags furiously. He knew their chance to strike back at the war ships was short. His signal was simple: red to fire, green to stand down, black to retreat. He waved the red flag so that all the soldiers on the wall could see it.
Avondale used ballistae as a defensive weapon. They were essentially giant crossbows that were mounted on swivels attached to the city walls. The bolts the ballistae used were taller than a man and thicker than Rafe’s thigh. The tips were mounted with steel triangular heads that had serrated edges to cause maximum damage. The bolts weren’t as devastating as the fire bombs, and against a defensive position they would have been nearly useless, but their advantage was in accuracy.
Rafe’s father had drilled the ballistae crews constantly, ensuring they could hit targets accurately from the wall to the edge of the mist. The war ships were higher than the targets the crews were used to aiming at and at the edge of the ballistae’s range, but Rafe had given the crews very specific instructions. They were to aim for the balloon sails that held the ships aloft. The sails were the most vulnerable part of the war ships and bigger than the actual vessel itself. Even a glancing blow could rip a hole in the canvas, causing the war ship to lose altitude and leave the fight.
He watched from his high vantage point as the soldiers on the walls fired back at the war ships. Only about half were successful. A few of the bolts hit the ships, smashing into the wooden hull and sticking fast but causing little real damage. Six of the bolts hit the balloon sails. The ballistae bolts shot clean through the canvas sails, leaving gaping holes that allowed the precious gas to escape. Rafe felt a sense of exaltation as the ships began to sink down toward the mists that covered the blighted lands. They weren’t falling, and Rafe guessed that the crews would be able to land the ships safely enough on the sides of the mountain and rejoin the fighting on foot, but it gave him pleasure to see them knocked out of the fight.
More firebombs came, and this time several hit the top of the wall, splashing their fiery contents all along the wide walkway. Only a few soldiers were injured, but the greater danger was the smoke. The thick oil would burn for a long time, belching black smoke that would soon hide the war ships, allowing them to lob more projectiles into the city without a clear way for Rafe’s men to target them.
“They’re gaining altitude,” said the soldier with Rafe. “Using their hulls to protect their sails.”
“The higher they are, the longer we’ll be able to target them,” Rafe replied.
More bolts shot out. This time eight sails were hit, but there were still almost a hundred war ships. The vessels on the far side of Avondale were raining down fire bombs uncontested. Some of the fire was spilling over into the city, which was nearly in a panic already. Even high up on the watchtower, Rafe could hear the screams and shouting.
Rafe waited as long as he could. One of the war ships crashed hard against the mountain, right at the mist line, the hull splintering at the bow, but Rafe still saw soldiers crawling out of the wreckage. His troops were doing damage to the fleet, but not the enemy army.
He raised the black flag and began waving it, calling his men down off the walls. A pall of smoke was drifting over the city. Cisterns were being emptied to contain the fires inside the city walls. There was very little on the walls to burn, except for the oily residue spilled by the fire bombs. Rafe watched his men retreat and then tried to gauge what his enemy would do. They could destroy the city, forcing the citizens of Avondale out of the protective walls or down toward the forest that surrounded the lake at the center of the majestic city.
But Rafe was betting that the king would send his troops in on foot. They needed Tiberius and the magic gem he’d found. Finding them would be much easier if the city was still intact, even if they had to slaughter their way into every home and tear the earl’s palace apart brick by brick. So Rafe waited, and he watched. Eventually the smoke grew so thick they were forced to descend from the tower and make their way through the war band’s training yard before finally coming back to the palace. Captain Rowan was waiting for Rafe just inside the palace’s front entrance, which was crowded with armed soldiers.
“I have my men stationed around the palace, Commander,” Rowan said.
“Casualties?” Rafe asked.
“Two dozen, seriously wounded. That many more have burns but can fight.”
“Keep your troops in reserve here,” Rafe said. “When Gerick’s forces fall back, you cover them. We have to keep the king’s soldiers busy for as long as we can.”
“Aye, commander,” Rowan said with a nod.
“And make sure everyone has something to eat. This may be the last lull we get before the fighting grows fierce.”
“We’ll be ready, you can count on that.”
Rafe considered the captain’s words. They were ready. The earl’s war band had trained for just such an event. Decades of careful training had been practiced by able-bodied men for just this type of attack. Now, all they needed to do was survive long enough for Tiberius to arrive and end this war once and for all.
“My lord,” Rafe said as he strode into the earl’s audience chamber. “We’ve pulled back from the city walls.”
“What is Leonosis doing?” the earl asked.
“I cannot say, not with the smoke covering the city. He could be doing anything.”
“But he’ll be gathering his forces to invade the city?”
“I believe he will, yes,” Rafe said. “But he can’t land his troops on the walls, and it would be too risky to try and land somewhere in the city. His men will be incredibly vulnerable climbing out of the war ships.”
“So we have a little time?” the earl asked.
“A few hours,” Rafe replied. “It will take that long to gather his forces.”
They could still hear the fire bombs smashing into the massive walls. Each impact sounded like a wooden barrel falling from a wagon and bursting open. The flames roared just after impact, but as long as the ships were bombarding the walls, they couldn’t disembark their troops.
“So we wait,” the earl said, “and hope Tiberius arrives soon.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“What is happening in the city?”
“Panic, as you might expect. Some of the buildings have taken fire.”
“I wish we could help them somehow.”
“We gave them a chance to leave safely,” Rafe reminded the earl. “It was their decision to stay.”
“But they had no idea the king’s fleet would attack the city.”
“They would have to be blind and deaf not to suspect it was a possibility. The war band will do their best to protect the citizens, but our priority is defending the palace and keeping you safe.”
“My own son,” the earl said after a slight pause. “I simply cannot believe my own son would attack Avondale.”
“I don’t think the man wearing the crown is your son,” Rafe said.
“He seemed rather different, didn’t he?” the earl asked.
“For certain, my lord.”
“And he looked dreadful. Whatever he’s into isn’t healthy.”
“I’m moving up to the roof where I can coordinate our troops,” Rafe said.
“I’ll be along once the fighting commences. Until then, I’ll worry less in here.”
Rafe didn’t see how that was possible. The audience chamber was filled with the city ministers and their families, nobles, dignitaries from other cities, and servants trying to see that everyone was well cared for. It was loud and tense in the long, rectangular room.
Rafe bowed, then hurried up to the rooftop. Several of his officers were already there, trying to see through the cloud of smoke that hung over the city. Rafe found a place to sit and rest. He knew that he needed to conserve his strength for as long as possible. Bread, cheese, and water were being brought up to the roof by the palace servants. Rafe took some food and waited for the explosions to stop. He knew that when the enemy grew quiet he would need to worry; until then, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.