The Path of the Storm (48 page)

"You have to!"

Amber climbed up to the rail, placed her hands above her head, and leapt forward. She was in the air for seconds, finally hitting the water with a mighty slap. With only a small patch of water that wasn't home to a burning piece of wood, Miro breathed a sigh of relief when Amber hit at that exact spot.

Miro prayed she wouldn't come up straight away and would swim under the water for as far as she could; there was fire everywhere.

He prayed she hadn't hit something under the water, and she would come up soon.

Miro turned around and saw countless blood-splattered warriors waving swords and rushing the docks. Lord of the Sky, there were so many of them.

"Come on," Miro muttered. "Come on!"

He stared down into the water. Amber was a strong swimmer, he reminded himself. Could she really hold her breath for that long?

He released breath he hadn't realised he was holding as her head burst from the water, only fifty paces away.

"Hurry!" Miro cried. "They're coming!"

Amber pulled her body through the water while the sounds of the revenant horde grew louder. Flaming timbers fell into the harbour, hitting the water with a hiss. Miro couldn't see a ship that wasn't ablaze. Surely Deniz would have left by now?

Amber's outstretched arm hit the dock, and Miro pulled her up and out of the water.

She was gasping and sodden, but he took her hand and pulled her along. "Deniz said he won't wait. We have to hurry!"

Miro followed the northernmost of the two mighty arms that enclosed the harbour. Deniz had said he would be at the end of the long pier, as far as possible from the flames.

Miro looked behind him as he ran and saw the revenant warriors giving chase. He opened up his stride, pulling Amber along behind him. The revenants were fast, and they were on their heels.

Two revenants blocked the way ahead, both tall barbarian warriors.

Without letting go of Amber's hand, Miro lowered his shoulder and charged. He knocked them back and kept running, feeling their hands clutch at his clothes. The two warriors took up chase, and Miro anxiously searched for the familiar bulk of the
Seekrieger
ahead.

There it was! The mighty warship was drawing away from the dock, and already two paces had grown between them, with the gap steadily widening. Miro heard the cries of the chasing barbarians behind him, felt their hot breath on his neck.

As he reached the
Seekrieger
, a man flew over the gap, landing with agility on the dock. Commodore Deniz raised his sword to block a blow that would have ended Miro's life.

Miro launched Amber over the gap and then turned to give aid to his rescuer. Deniz needed little help.

With a thrust the commodore skewered a barbarian's white eye, the creature crumpling as the sword entered the brain. He ducked under the second opponent's slash and took the barbarian's head off with a strong two-handed blow.

The main horde still rushed towards them, and the gap was now too wide to jump across.

Miro and Deniz exchanged glances.

"Commodore!" a sailor called.

A coiled rope was thrown across the gap, and with a wry smile Deniz handed the end of the rope to Miro. "You've promised us refuge in your homeland. I'm going to make sure you fulfil that promise."

With a grin, Miro took a firm grip on the rope, and was hauled forward as a second rope was thrown to the commodore. He landed in the water with a splash and was quickly pulled up until he was standing, drenched, on the deck.

He held out a hand to help Deniz up.

"Thank you, Commodore," Miro said. "I owe you my life."

Even with his fine clothes sodden through, Deniz stood proud and tall. "Look," he said, gesturing at the open sea.

As they exited the harbour Miro saw over a dozen ships like the
Seekrieger
, all heading out together, into the open sea. They were all filled with the women and children of Veldria.

"When we arrive in your homeland, you can consider your debt discharged."

Miro nodded, and turned back to look at the city.

The docks burned, and smoke rose in a heavy black cloud. High above it all, Emirald rose up into the air, and as the sun set, Miro could see the Emir's great palace clearly outlined.

He thought he saw a figure there, a proud silhouette looking out over the harbour and the mighty ships leaving for a far away land.

They would return one day.

"Commodore," Miro said. "Watch."

The walls had fallen and the men of Veldria were dead. The revenant horde now rushed through the city, searching out any still living, rounding up the bodies and throwing them onto piles.

The city would be filled with the enemy. Necromancers would be directing their draugar, and perhaps even Sentar Scythran himself would be standing at the wrong place when it came.

The figure at the palace stood motionless, drinking in the sight of his city's death throes, and the final hope under full sail, leaving these lands behind.

It was impossible, but Miro imagined he could meet the Emir's eyes. The people of Emirald would never be slaves.

A rumble came from the city, a huge, all-encompassing sound greater than the eruption of any volcano.

The city lifted off the ground as the hillside underneath it exploded. Kegs of black powder ignited tunnels filled with countless barrels of oil. A cloud of dirt, stone, timber and blood rose into the air in a detonation that grew ever greater.

The noise was deafening. Dust and smoke became so thick that the destruction could no longer be seen. Emirald was gone.

"Stars alive," Commodore Deniz breathed. "He did it."

Miro breathed slowly in and then out, releasing the air in a steady stream. He sensed Amber beside him.

"Will they still come?" she asked.

"Yes, they'll still come," he said. "Emir Volkan would have destroyed a good portion of the army, but there are many towns on this continent yet to be enslaved. Sentar will build more ships, and he will come."

Miro, Amber, and Commodore Deniz watched Emirald until the smoke of the harbour and dust of the city combined to form a distant haze.

Finally, even the plume of smoke was gone.

55

T
HE WRAITHS
regrouped, and once more swooped down to the attack. Ella glanced over at the remains of Lord Aidan. Killian's father was now a smoking pile on the ground.

Ella took another step backwards, bringing herself closer to the shimmering portal. She couldn't enter the portal without Killian by her side, nor could she turn her back on the creatures; to let them take her from behind would be to die.

Suddenly twisted bolts of lightning arced through the sky, scattering four of the creatures. Killian's voice could be heard above the shrieks of the black shadows, calling forth the powers that only he possessed.

Ella sent a yellow beam from her wand to strike another. She saw Killian then launch a flurry of fireballs from his hands, the wraiths screaming in rage each time they were hit.

Ella sensed Killian by her side, gasping and wheezing. The fight against the berserk revenant had taken its toll.

She chanted continuously, sending yellow bolts shooting through the air, striking wraiths, sending them tumbling and shrieking. As three of them dodged the beams of energy and came screaming at Killian's head, he sent a concussive blast of air into their midst.

Ella could see the wand's energy was nearly exhausted. She called forth three more bolts, seeing two of them strike home, and then the prism at the wand's tip went dark.

The wraiths rose into the air, some fleeing but most regrouping.

Killian turned to Ella. "Are you hurt?"

Ella grimaced and put her hand to her shoulder. Her fingers came away dripping red. "One of them got through. I'll be all right."

"This is our chance. Are you ready?"

Ella looked again at the burnt remains of Lord Aidan. "I'm sorry."

Killian nodded, his expression unreadable.

"Ella!" Shani's voice came from the other side. "The portal's closing and it won't open again. If you can hear me, you need to come through now!"

The reddened gold of the curtain started to fade back to silver. When it turned dark, the way home would be closed.

Killian took Ella's hand, and they turned.

Sensing their prey escaping, the wraiths swooped forward in one last attack.

Killian spoke the words and together, they took a step through the shimmering portal. Ella once more felt the texture of the air change, as she left the nightmare world of Shar behind.

As the portal closed behind them, Ella and Killian crossed the threshold, and stepped through to the other side.

The wraiths screamed in frustration as the curtain went dark.

The way through was barred.

56

A
CROSS
the harbour from the Sentinel, in the city of Seranthia, the mood of the mob turned ugly.

"Lord Regent," the Tingaran captain said. "They're about to tear down the gates. I'm ordering the call to arms."

Rogan stayed silent, staring down from the palace at the heaving crowd below. When he didn't countermand the order, the captain left the room.

Moments later three great horn blasts sounded, followed by a space, and then three more. The sound reverberated through the city, and for a moment the crowd stilled, before once more surging at the gates to the Imperial Palace.

Soon, Rogan knew, the army would arrive. Men bearing the new insignia of the Empire reborn — the nine-pointed star — would hack and slice at unarmed civilians. Rogan would be known throughout history as a murderer.

What else could he do? Barring some miracle, inaction would lead to the palace being stormed. Rogan and his family would be killed, gruesomely no doubt, and the Empire would be no more. Tingara would go to war against some neighbour, committing theft on the grandest scale, and no matter if the new machines were built, the world would suffer anew.

Looking out over the city he saw smoke rising from several quarters. The call to arms sounded again, loud and strident, and the crowd roared in defiance. Rogan saw Bastian below, exhorting those who attacked the palace. The iron gates shook and trembled. Any minute they would fall.

Which would come first, the slaughter of the mob, or the storming of the palace?

Rogan wondered where Amelia was. Surely there was some place where she and Tapel could hide. Perhaps they could disguise themselves as servants. Rogan would stay and try to reason with the mob, even as he knew it was a doomed cause. He owed the Empire that much.

As if on cue, Rogan heard Amelia's voice. She was talking to another person, a woman. They entered the chamber together.

The newcomer was middle-aged and tall, with a slender face and high cheekbones. Her eyes were careworn, with lines of worry on her forehead and the corners of her mouth. The woman's dark hair was worn long and loose, with fine braids woven through, held back by a silver circlet. She wore a flowing burgundy dress and a silver necklace. A pendant between her breasts bore the symbol of a sun and star.

Rogan immediately recognised the
raj hada
of House Tingara. He closed his eyes and sighed, before reopening them.

Rogan Jarvish, Lord Regent of the Empire, realised he was looking upon Lady Alise, the sister of the late Emperor Xenovere V.

This was the miracle he had prayed for.

"Lady Alise," Rogan said. He placed three fingers over his heart, and then touched his lips and forehead, before bowing from the waist.

"Go easy on her, Rogan," Amelia said softly.

"How…?" Rogan asked.

Rogan saw Marshal Beorn standing behind Amelia and Lady Alise. A Tingaran lieutenant stood with Beorn.

"Lieutenant Trask here found a way into the palace," Beorn said, indicating the Tingaran by his side. "We only just made it in. He did well."

The Tingaran looked abashed.

"Well done, Lieutenant," Rogan said.

Rogan turned to Lady Alise. He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Your first time home in over twenty years, and this is what you come back to. I'm sorry for everything you've gone through."

"I've been… out of touch," Lady Alise said. "They sent me to that island, with no way off, no news, and little company. What have I come back to?"

"Your brother is dead, and there has been a terrible war. The war is over, but the Empire's economy is in ruins. We're rebuilding it one step at a time, but the people are angry. They're angry that a foreigner is Lord Regent — that would be me — and that recent events brought to light that the Evermen were no gods, they were our masters, and we were their slaves. Lady Alise, they need someone to lead them, one of their own. Will you speak with them?"

Lady Alise opened her mouth and then closed it. "No," she finally said. "I turned my back on the Tingaran Empire long ago. I came here because they said my son may still be alive. Tell me, Rogan Jarvish, Lord Regent. Is my son alive?"

Rogan opened his mouth, and then closed it. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but it's unlikely."

"Then I will trouble you no more."

Rogan Jarvish bowed his head.

57

E
LLA
and Killian tumbled through the portal, to fall onto their knees on the other side. "Don't attack!" Ella gasped.

The beacon ceased its pealing, and the shimmering curtain faded to silver, and then a dull grey.

Ella shook her head to clear it, ignoring the pain in her wounded shoulder. The transition back to Merralya was jarring, the air hot and heavy, the light bright and blinding.

Killian rose to his feet, looking uncertainly at the three people watching him warily.

Ella smiled as she stood. "Shani, Jehral, Bartolo… meet Killian."

"Are we safe?" Shani asked. "One of those things came though."

Ella looked again at the portal. "It's closed." She detached her device from the Lexicons and put it back in her satchel. "Don't let me forget to throw this in the sea. You can take the Lexicons now. Thank you, all of you."