Bones of the Empire (32 page)

Instead, Estin waited for the city to stop worshipping his mate.

*

The next two days were a whirlwind of meetings, with Feanne dragged off to provide direction to one group after another. Estin had never even considered how many different groups might work within one city, but he was certainly getting an idea. There were supply caravans to organize, troops to arm, maps to consult, money to be paid to more people than he could think his way through, and so on. For whatever reason, Feanne was expected to preside over all of it, even if she was only a symbol of their god and not their general or leader.

Throughout the meetings, Feanne had said little, often sitting quietly while Arella spoke for her. Feanne had clung to Estin’s hand throughout the longer meetings, clearly unsure of what to do when there was no benefit to picking a fight with anyone. It had largely been on him to determine when Feanne had been trapped in a meeting too long and it was time to get her out—something he figured out based on how tightly she squeezed his hand and whether it had begun to hurt. Once his fingers ached, he knew she was nearing her breaking point and might attack someone. Each time he made up a new excuse about why he needed to leave and avoided saying why he was taking Feanne with him.

In their latest meeting with the hunters, who had been acting as scouts for the city, things had gotten overly heated. Feanne had begun yelling at one hunter who had suggested they use the dire wolves that had come to Feanne’s call and now lingered near the walls as bait. She had almost gone over the table after the man that suggested it, snarling and hissing. Estin and Arella had pulled her from the room.

“Feanne, you need to calm down,” Estin told her, holding her against the wall of the house where the meetings had been held. Arella waited a moment longer before heading back inside to smooth over any hurt feelings. “He wasn’t trying to say the wolves need to be killed. He only wanted to lure out any Turessian forces near Jnodin.”

“Then he should wound one of his hunters and leave them out in the snow,” she snapped, her anger not directed at Estin, thankfully. “See how they enjoy suffering for a chance of luring a handful of foes into the open. Perhaps I should break his legs and leave him out there.”

“Feanne, please stop,” he begged and soon he felt her relax. “We both know they aren’t our enemies.”

“They are so stupid, though, Estin!” Feanne gasped, flopping her face onto his shoulder. “Their tactics are insane. We will lose half of the army in our first battle. All this talk about hiding behind walls, digging trenches, and defensible locations makes my head hurt. My father’s pack lost maybe fifteen people in years of raids on Altisian supply wagons. How does anyone manage to stay sane leading human armies?”

Before Estin could reply, Mairlee appeared beside him, leaning against the wall, nearly touching Feanne. “A fine question, but one we can answer another time. Mortal squabbles are hardly our biggest concern right now.”

Feanne groaned into Estin’s shoulder without looking up.

“Now?” Estin asked, but Mairlee stared back at him emotionlessly. “We’re supposed to meet with the people handling food caravans for—”

“A waste of time.” Mairlee waved off his argument. “This is far more important. They can figure out how to protect the wagons without you. If they cannot, I can formulate a plan to organize every person in this city in seconds when we return.”

“Why couldn’t we do this days ago? We’re too busy now…”

“Nonsense. Your limited vision of things would have made what I must show you less significant in your sight. I had to wait until it had progressed enough that you would be able to understand. Now is the correct time.”

Feanne banged her forehead against Estin’s shoulder again.

“Let me try this another way,” Mairlee continued, frowning at Feanne. “Feanne, what would you give to leave the city for a few hours?”

Feanne turned to look at Mairlee, though she kept her cheek on Estin’s shoulder, as though she were too tired to lift her head. “I don’t care if you are taking us elsewhere to kill us. Take us out of this place. I would not even fight you.”

A roar of winds and flying dust blinded Estin briefly, and he grabbed Feanne, holding her tightly as the wind threatened to throw them both to the ground. The air chilled rapidly around them, and Estin’s stomach churned as though he had hung upside-down too long. When he could open his eyes again, they stood on a stony peak, with only about ten feet of flat ground in any direction before the mountain dropped away.

Beside them, Turess stood with a razor in his hand, which steamed as the warm water on it chilled in the air. He blinked rapidly, not taking his eyes off of Estin and Feanne. He lowered the razor, swallowed hard, and wiped his wet and partially shaved face with a towel hung over his shoulder.

Shrieking, Feanne dug her claws into Estin’s back and nearly knocked him down as she used him for support. She had apparently gotten a look at the edges of the mountaintop. She had never been one for heights, and even Estin felt a little queasy standing where he was.

“This is worse!” Feanne gasped, trying to inch away from the nearest drop-off. “Get me to the ground!”

“That would be a long fall,” Mairlee said, stepping from nowhere to appear behind Turess, who had finished drying his face. “We will not stay long, that I promise. I simply needed you to see something before we return to the city.”

Walking over to the edge of the mountain, Mairlee stood at the very lip with a confidence Estin had not seen in others. An elf with no fear of falling was likely not an elf. There was much she was hiding from them. He still had no idea what that made her, but seeing her willingness to lean over the edge felt like a sort of confirmation of his previous hunches.

“Turess,” Mairlee said. “Does any of this look familiar?”

Scowling and still dabbing at his face with the towel, Turess looked out over the lands below. After a moment, he sighed, and Estin saw his shoulders dip. “Is like when I came to Nenophar for help. It happens again.”

“No, this is far worse,” Mairlee corrected. “This time the mists are trapped here. They are feeding to stay alive. Had Nenophar let the holes between worlds remain open, the mists would have ripped the world apart. You opened one hole. These fools opened dozens. With many of the doorways now closed, the mists will consume everything on Eldvar eventually. My son bought us time and changed the method by which we will die if we fail to act. He has given us something we can fight against, though we lack the means with the mists so spread.”

Estin could not see what they were looking at from where he stood. When he tried to drag Feanne a few feet closer to the edge, she dug in her toe-claws and fought to keep them both still. He attempted to budge her, but she was far stronger.

“Have I ever let you fall, Feanne?” he asked her softly, getting a slight shake of her head in reply. When he tilted his head to try to see her face against his shoulder, he found she had her eyes clamped shut and her ears flat. “I won’t start today. We need to go a little closer to Turess. Can you move with me?”

Feanne bit him lightly on the shoulder, surprising him. Given how terrified she was of heights greater than twenty or thirty feet, he realized he probably should not have been surprised by anything she did. After a moment, she let go and nodded slightly.

Inching sideways, Estin had to almost carry Feanne to make her move. She kept her eyes closed and her claws dug deep into Estin’s shirt and fur. It took him far longer than he would have liked, but eventually he got close enough to the edge to see much of the land below.

He certainly did not expect what he did see.

Hundreds of feet below, roiling clouds of glowing mists spread in all directions, creating a curved line, behind which he could see the landscape broken and twisted in their passing. In a particular spot off to his right, the mists had left the skeletal remains of a city that appeared to have been dropped from a great height. Ahead of the clouds, the vast snow-covered lands of Turessi spread as far as he could see. It looked almost as though the mists were running into some kind of wall, churning and stretching in an effort to get around its sides, in spots sliding up the invisible barrier and flattening out.

“Where are we?” he asked, staring wide-eyed at the miles of mists below.

“About a hundred miles northwest of Jnodin,” Mairlee explained, pointing somewhat off to the right. “The city is there. The mists are avoiding it as well. Rather, they are now, thanks to Turess’s work.”

Turess nodded. “This is one reason she had me renew magic at temple. The mists wear it down. Magic does not last forever. Much less than forever when magic-eating cloud comes.”

As Estin watched, the mists slowly climbed the invisible wall, though still spreading around the sides. They slid back down, but continued to try in one place after another, gradually getting farther up the smooth barrier each time. It felt like he was watching animals clawing to get inside, where their prey waited.

“What’s stopping them?” he asked, shivering. “Is what you were casting in Jnodin all that’s keeping them back?”

“No,” Turess answered. “I make much bigger in bones of my old land. Will keep mists a hundred miles or more away, but one at Jnodin keep them barely out of city. I put them in all my cities when I know I had made mistakes. Plan was to keep people safe until we find way to stop mists. Still trying to find. Had hoped to wake to better days.”

Mairlee shook her head, looking sadly down at the clouds below. “There is no way to just stop them, Turess. I told you that two thousand years ago, and I stand by it. Sadly, I believe that the only cities that still hold back the mists are ones your brother now controls. He crushed Lantonne to ensure their runes could not keep the mists from retaking that region and thereby deny any sanctuary to those who opposed him. The shrines in your old lands—Jnodin, Altis, and Pholithia—are the only barriers I can still feel standing. Any others are far beyond my sight. The pattern of our fates lie in those cities and none farther.”

“What about Corraith?” Estin asked, but neither Turess nor Mairlee acknowledged him.

At the mention of the land where their children were, Feanne’s trembling stopped and she steadied her breathing.

“No matter how many cities are left,” Turess said, pointing farther south, where Estin could see more mists traveling through the mountains. “Mists seek magic. Your kind went to sleep to hide from them, Mairlee. Leaves only monsters like my brother as targets. The mists come from all parts of world, while closing off my lands. Eventually, even runes in empire’s bones will fall, and these lands will be consumed. They will hunt the monsters, and they will hunt my relics, until both are gone. Dorralt brings his monsters home, drawing all the mists to one place. We bring relics to same place. No mists will care about rest of world.”

“The mists eat magic?” Estin asked, his skin going far colder than the weather alone would have caused. “Is that why the circles of magic kept falling? That’s why they came after us? Because we had magic?”

“It will get worse, if any of my kin wake to my call,” Mairlee added, brushing away a loose lock of hair that flapped in the strong winds. “We need them, but their presence will only encourage the mists to push this way. Any of my kin who do not come here will be a draw to the mists into other lands. Even the spell I cast to increase Feanne’s power briefly at the temple will draw more mists to Jnodin. Perhaps if we are lucky, we can keep them here for a while to allow the mortals south to enjoy another few months of life.”

“What can we do?” Estin asked, feeling hopelessness looming as he watched the vast stretches of mist closing in on Turessi. He instinctively tightened his hold on Feanne.

“Once the mists block off Turessi…very little,” Mairlee admitted, shrugging. “Until then, I intend to get into Turessi’s safety and use that as long as we can. We may be able to destroy our enemies before we die. It is not a perfect solution, but it is something. My people are not averse to dying for a worthy enough cause. If we all die here, perhaps the mists will run out of magic before they can reach another land.”

“I have plan,” Turess said, turning away from the edge of the mountain. “When time is right, we discuss. May not work, so do not get hope up. Is vague memory from visions before dying. Will need to remember more.” He briefly looked at Estin before staring at the ground. “May require sacrifices, but we will try.”