War of the Princes 03: Monarch (31 page)

The royal guards stopped his progress, telling him to slow down.

“
General!” Rune shouted over the noise, craning to see past the guards that blocked him. “Lord Deasun! The fireworks are masking cannon-fire! The city is under attack!”

Kyle turned sharply to face Rune.
“What?”

Deasun had barely heard him, but seemed to catch onto the last portion of his statement.
“I don't think that–”

All at once, a siren began to wail through the city, and even the crowd quieted to listen. There was one more boom, no fireworks followed. A bullet ricocheted off of Wick's shoulder guard and struck a soldier behind us. Kyle staggered backward, unharmed but afraid. His armor closed up around him, hiding his body and protecting him on all sides. Deasun had begun to bellow orders. There were screams. I searched for the bullet's origin and found the orchestra, standing atop their multi-tiered stage. They'd thrown their instruments down and taken up rifles. Even as I watched them, they stomped onto the wooden platforms, and leaped into the crowd. Altered by some mechanism, the platforms buckled, folded and fell from their hinges. The panels fell away to reveal the last thing I'd ever wanted to see again.

I don't know if I said the words aloud, if I'd thought them, or if they'd simply escaped, abandoning me to my fate. It didn't matter if no one heard me because everyone saw what I did, and we only had moments to live.

“
It's a Monarch.
”

Chapter 50:
Warmachine

The weapon was the size of a small cottage, and glossy
black, like oil had been spilled all over it. Pipes fanned out from its sides, belching steam. Tubes and cords belted across its midsection, severing the chains and bearings and wheels from the closed upper deck. It looked like a bloated tick, with low, brassy pipe wings that were far too small for its girth. I didn't doubt the pipes were purposely cut in the shape of butterfly wings. It was like a cruel joke. Painted on the nose of the machine was a copper monarch butterfly. It was upside down and bleeding oil and rust.

Most disturbing was the foggy glass tube that plunged out of the vehicle like a single horn. The silhouette of a person was thrashing within. It was
her
. The final member of Paperglass. Barry Block's only living companion. A Lodestone, ready to be used as fuel in the one creation that all of history had feared most.

Chaos spread like wildfire. Kyle's guards closed around him like they were magnetized. Deasun was shouting and pointing. Our platform was crowded, and the soldiers couldn't move aside fast enough to open an escape route into the keep. Below, the panicked crowd fled in all directions. When one person fell, they'd topple another, and another, until entire sections of people flattened. Then the crowd would surge again, trampling those who had fallen. From our raised balcony, I could see it all. I even spotted a few members of the
“orchestra” shooting their weapons into the crowd.

All the while, cannons were firing on the city, and the Monarch was purring. At first, the sound was barely audible, but it rose with smooth intensity.

Why are they running? The Monarch is already firing, and if it's anything like the draining device, after three pulses, it will strike out a mile in every direction. Do they really think they can get away fast enough?

This war machine was the reason my people fled into Haven, sealing themselves off from their war-torn cousins, locking themselves away so that they might forget the atrocities that they had been victim t
o. One Lodestone, drained to gray mummification could provide that device the energy it would need to emit a shockwave so large, it would cause everyone with the slightest hint of Ability to combust. How badly would it hurt to explode?

Rune looked as resigned as I felt. Though we were being jostled on all sides, he reached down to touch my hair and cup my cheek. His smile was gentle and fond.
“I couldn't have asked for anything more.”

Captivated by the look in his eyes, I felt my own surrender. I'd been so safe in Haven, so blissfully sheltered, I wasn't at all prepared for the harsh reality of the Outside World, but for all the fear that had spurred my survival, I felt strangely at peace now. I hadn't expected that.

Deasun and his soldiers took Kyle and burrowed their way into the keep tunnel. Carmine and Sadie hastily followed.

I wrapped my arm around his and let my palm soak up the warmth of his hand.
“If there was one chance in a million that you could save us all, would you take it and risk dying alone in failure? Or would you spend your last living breaths with the person most special to you?”

He chuckled.
“Every moment I've spent with you has been worth a thousand more. I would
fight
.”

Throwing myself against him, I poured my heart into that embrace and spoke into his shoulder,
“Follow Kyle and Carmine, keep them safe. If this works, I'll find you. I promise I will. If it doesn't...” We'd be dead. “I'll see you soon.”

There wasn't time for more than that. When I released him
, he stood like a soldier, with his shoulders squared and his chin held high, but he wasn't emotionless or cold. He seemed proud.

“
I'll see you soon,” he echoed. Without looking back, he turned into the flow of soldiers and pushed his way through.

I watched him go and felt a pang of loneliness. My eyebrows narrowed. I would not feel sorry for myself. I wouldn't pity either of us. If we died, we died doing our best. It was simple.

What are you doing, Kat? This is insane. It won't work.

I forced myself to turn around to face the Monarch. There was an empty ring of matted grass around it. Thirty feet of clear space, while everyone else stampeded to the narrow streets beneath the keep. How was I going to move through so many people running in the opposite direction? My horse, Florian, was in the stables on the opposite side of the field. To make matters worse, the members of the false orchestra surrounded the machine, protecting it until it fired. I wondered if they were Dragoons who were willing
to die for their orders, or if they were infantry– those soldiers without Abilities. The latter seemed more logical. Margrave Hest always said, “Nothing is wasted.” Why send in a Dragoon to die if you can drain them first?

The Monarch's first pulse hit me full in the face, blasting my hair back and plastering my dress against my body. The sudden wind was so strong that I couldn't breathe. With it came a vibration so deep, it rattled my teeth and shook my bones. I should have been afraid. It was an excellent time for it. I wasn't.

The blast passed by and I pushed myself into action. Tugging at the chain attached to my waist pocket, I produced the engraved medallion.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and I let it comfort me.

“I hear you.”

I had to get through that crowd before the third pulse. Cupping the palm of my hand, I made certain that no direct light intruded. I flipped the medallion over so that the symbol that matched the one branded in Rune's arm showed face-up. Touching my finger to the metallic surface, I traced the
semi-circle and curving line.

I wasn't left waiting. The skeleton of a horse leaped out of the shadowy balcony ground, its hooves clattering and scraping as it hauled itself out of the void. Darkness coated it, lashing on and snapping over its body until it appeared as solid as any living animal. I used the railing to hoist myself up onto its bare back, wrapped my fingers into its mane, and kicked my heels into its sides before the remaining soldiers could react.

I heard angry shouts behind me as my warhorse hauled us down the curving ramp to the courtyard. I hoped desperately that the Northern soldiers wouldn't fire at me with so many of their own people nearby.

Despite my not having reins, the warhorse obeyed
the guiding pressure of my every touch. When we struck grass, plunging into the throng, we were forced to slow down to a trot. The warhorse snorted and bit at the people blocking our way, hurrying our course.

At ground level, the sunset-drenched keep was enchanting. If only those flashing lights beyond the outer walls weren't the harbingers of
cannonade. The courtyard's multi-colored decorations remained brightly lit, flags still flapped, and lanterns still beamed, but instead of cheering, there were screams.

Folding my legs up against my mount as high as I could, I buckled over the warhorse's neck in effort to protect myself. Hands clawed at me as they went by, tearing my dress. Nails scratched my ankles. Someone had the idea that they should take my place atop the shadow-horse and wrenched at my leg. I shrieked, clinging on to the horse's neck as tightly as I could, but I was sliding.

The Monarch's second pulse pushed the crowd out as if it dared them to run. My warhorse arched its neck and strode on through the wind, but my attacker still dragged at me. Others noticed what he was doing and joined in trying to pull me down from my seat. They yanked roughly on both of my legs, ripping the top layer of my skirt to ribbons.

I don't have time for this.

“No!” I shouted at them, electrifying my body. They held on harder for an instant, locked in their grasp by mild electrocution, and then I let them go. Again, I charged my body, making sure that my Ability was visible to ward off other would-be horse thieves, but my charge was leached away.

My warhorse neighed in a voice too low to be natural, and then it did something very peculiar. It ignited.

Plumes of lightning sprouted from its shoulders, spines of light burst from its back, stripes mottled its sides, and threads wove over its face, giving it a sharp beak. The warhorse used my physical connection and the intense charge of my power to change its appearance, like a Shadow Chaser. It snorted, tossing its head, and I could see that its eyes had gone solid white.

Now the crowd moved out of our way. Our pace picked up to a loping canter, and the Monarch rose up above us, looking larger with ever
y yard that we crossed. The woman's body in the foggy tube thrashed against the glass, pounding at the container. Steam blasted out from the war machine's sides, flooding the grounds with a suffocating heat. The noise of the thing hurt my ears, and its roar rose in pitch and volume, nearing the final note that would spell death for tens of thousands of people.

Just as the orchestra soldiers caught sight of me, I half swung, half fell from the warhorse's back. I'd rode in on one of their own mounts. If I were paying attention to them, I probably would have found that they didn't know whose side I was on. All that matters is they didn't shoot me as my knees buckled beneath me. The sound was too loud. I could feel it grinding through me, already resonating with my innate Abilities. It hurt between my skin and my muscles, between my bones and my tendons, between my eyes and my brain... but most of all, it hurt within the core of my chest, just beneath my circle of scars. It hurt like a memory.

I couldn't breathe, I could barely see, but I forced myself to get up. I stood facing the Monarch, watching the way its tubes twitched like a body filled with parasites and knowing I had only seconds to spare. My life didn't flash before my eyes. There wasn't time. I reached into my pocket, pulled the medallion free, and thought only of Rune.

The shadows were deep where I sheltered the trinket from the light of the warhorse, and remembering what Prince Raserion had told me, I traced the cluster of curling lines that made up the mysterious symbol.

“Simply draw this symbol in the shadows and cast the medallion at his feet. An unstoppable force will come, bringing him here to me, and your task will be complete.”

As the Monarch screamed in my ears, I pulled my arm back and threw the medallion as far as I could. It flew, chain trailing behind it like a tail, and landed at the base of the war machine. The moment it touched ground, the woman in the glass tube shook violently, the Monarch w
ailed, my heart nearly tore in half, and a gigantic beast launched from the wide pool of shadow that the medallion had landed in.

It came up from the darkness, like all of the other creatures had, but this one was larger than anything I'd ever seen. Its head was huge and round, with spiraling horns and a short snout. Long thin fangs protruded from its wide mouth. Its neck was wide and muscular and its eyes were white slits like crescent moons at midnight. Six arms reached out, all with heavily clawed paws. Its long body stretched as it threw itself at the Monarch,
constricted around it in seconds, and dragged the entire machine with it into the shadows.

Just as the last lump of monster and machine dipped into Shadows Within Shadows, a dull explosion vibrated beneath my feet. It was the sound of a thousand books being dropped into a foot of dust. All of the shadows on the ground writhed as countless shadow creatures bubbled to the surface with wide white eyes, frantically struggling to break free and flee their world. There and gone, they sank away and all went disturbingly quiet.

My warhorse began to scream. My lightning was gone from its body and again it looked like a regular black horse. The creature was terrified. It reared and bucked and kicked before bolting across the field into the crowd.

There were only two orchestra soldiers left. The others had been dragged down with the Monarch. Before they could train their flintlock rifles on me,
I reached out with both my hands and lashed them each with a whip of electric energy. My Spark raced along the barrel of their guns, quickened by the conducting element and struck into the flesh of their hands. Calling off the Spark before it could kill them required as much speed and precision as attacking them had. Yanking my arms behind me, I stumbled back. My whips of lightning wrapped around my wrists and disappeared. The enemy soldiers collapsed, dropping their guns. They were still breathing, weren’t they? I could feel them when I’d struck their hands. It was like the Spark had joined in my sense of touch. Was I quick enough to stop it from killing them?

Their chests moved slowly with inhalation.

Thank gravity, they’re still alive.

Blinking,
I spun in a half-circle to the sound of cheering. The nearest sections of the crowd had seen what I'd done and called out in support of my heroics. Northern soldiers clapped me on the back as they trotted in to retrieve the bodies I’d incapacitated, but no one relaxed just yet. Caraway was still under attack.

I walked ten paces away and rested my palms on my knees, giving myself a moment to catch my breath. Adrenalin crashed into me belatedly and my heart slammed in my chest. I'd just sent the Monarch, active and armed, to fire in Prince Raserion's own sanctuary. I didn't feel good about what I'd done. I'd come to appreciate Raserion's Shadow Chasers and warhorses. If the Monarch would make anyone with Abilities explode, what would it do to creatures made
from
Abilities? What would it do to that hidden world? And then there was the woman Lodestone. She was one of my own, an innocent from Haven, and there had been nothing I could do to save her.