Hammond led the way, while Justin and Cammon marched on either side of Amalie as they picked their way through the sunshine toward the training yard. It was strange to be so close to the yard and not hear the incessant sound of blades striking and voices shouting. But all the Riders were either on duty or resting after their watches the night before.
Cammon fastened on a sword and selected a backup dagger as Amalie lifted her skirts to show the Riders the sheath belted at her knee. “Let me see you use it,” Justin said, so she feinted at him with one quick lunge. “Not bad,” he said. “A little more force, if you can manage it, or you won’t kill an attacker outright.”
“She just has to slow him down long enough for a Rider to arrive,” Hammond said.
“Sometimes help isn’t as close as you’d like,” Justin said. “Show me again.”
Soon enough they were back outside, heading toward the sculpture gardens. “Look, you can see it’s
almost
spring,” Amalie said. “There are buds on some of the trees, and there are whole patches of green grass where the lawn is always in sunlight.”
Justin didn’t voice his thought, but Cammon caught it anyway.
This year, spring means war
. Amalie bent down to brush aside dead weeds that covered the curled leaves of a crocus, poking its way up through the hard ground. Still leaning over, she turned her head to give them all a lovely smile. “Almost spring,” she repeated.
Cammon heard a sound. Felt a flutter. He jerked around to peer behind him, swung his head as if to discover the source of an unpleasant odor.
“What is it?” Justin demanded.
“I don’t know. I think—Justin, I think someone has breached the walls.”
Instantly, Justin’s sword was in his hand and Hammond had half-drawn his. The soldiers crowded closer to Amalie. “Back toward the palace,” Justin ordered, and the four of them hustled through the ranks of scowling marble royalty. “Cammon, wake Tayse. Call in the other Riders.”
“I don’t know if the others can hear me,” Cammon said breathlessly, jogging alongside Justin.
“Just do it. Send an alarm. Even if they can’t
hear
you, they’ll be uneasy enough that they’ll come in from the city. Riders are used to following their instincts.”
Cammon glanced around. They were free of the gardens now and could see the wide expanse of the front lawns, empty and serene, rolling straight to the high stone walls surrounding the palace. “It might be nothing—”
“Do it.”
Cammon flung his thoughts out like water tossed from a half-filled cup. He felt Tayse start from a sound sleep and roll to his feet, his weapon in his hand before he had even put on his boots. He felt the other Riders startle, pause, look around, and then set out running. Those already on the palace grounds headed for the main building. Those quartering the streets of Ghosenhall raced back for the compound.
Those guarding Baryn and Valri pulled their blades and shifted closer to their charges.
Senneth,
Cammon called.
Kirra. Donnal. Trouble is coming. I can’t tell what. But trouble is coming
.
Almost as soon as he thought the words, a runner of fire darted along the very top of the wall, till the whole stone fence was topped by a ragged crown of flame. Justin slowed to a walk, looking pleased.
He said, “Well, that’ll stop anyone who—”
And three men slipped through the partition of fire and dropped gracefully to the ground.
T
HE
intruders were dressed in black, from their closely hooded heads to their polished boots; they moved like dancers. Each of them carried a long blade in one hand and a short blade in the other, and their belts were heavy with an array of other weapons.
Justin loosed an inarticulate cry, and ten Riders raced toward the wall with their swords held high. “To the palace!” Justin cried.
Before they could take another step, twenty more invaders glided through Senneth’s fire and landed on the palace lawn. Motion caught Cammon’s eye and he swiveled around to see another ten—another twenty—swarming up the walls of the palace itself, breaking through panes of glass and diving through windows. Another dozen were storming the main door. From inside came the sounds of hysterical voices and clattering metal. More Riders charged in through the gates and instantly engaged the attackers. Cammon could hardly breathe. The odds against the defenders were horrible.
“No!”
Amalie shrieked and picked up her skirts to run. Justin grabbed her arm and jerked her back.
“There’s no safety in the palace!” he shouted in her ear. “Back to the gardens! We have to hide you.”
Amalie kicked at him, beating his chest with her free hand. “No! No! My father’s in there! Let me go! I have to find him!”
Justin didn’t sheathe his sword but, one-handed, he shook Amalie so hard her hair tumbled in her face, and then he started dragging her very fast back toward the sculpture park. Hammond and Cammon loped along beside him. “Majesty! My orders are to protect
you
! Whatever happens to anyone else,
I
must keep
you
alive.”
Amalie moaned and twisted in his hold. Cammon caught her other arm and helped Justin half carry her toward what was only the most dubious kind of safety. “Amalie, he’s right,” Cammon said quietly. “There are others protecting your father and Valri. We must keep you alive.”
They ran, but all of them kept looking back over their shoulders. More of the black-hooded attackers—
more
. “At least two hundred,” Hammond estimated as they ducked inside the sculpture park and lost sight of the battle. “More coming.”
Justin strode through the lines of statuary, looking for a place to hide or a place to make a stand. “Foreigners,” he said. “That’s why Cammon couldn’t feel them, that’s why Senneth’s fire didn’t stop them. Impervious to our kind of magic.”
“Not impervious to Kirra,” Cammon said with a dark kind of gladness. “She just ripped someone’s throat out.” Even as he spoke, he could feel Donnal make a leap for an enemy soldier and bring them both crashing to the ground. “Not impervious to Donnal.”
“Good.” Justin had found a spot that appealed to him, a giant curved slab of white marble carved to resemble a shell. Before it, a black granite pedestal held an oversized and extremely forbidding woman carved out of more white marble. “Majesty, you stand with your back to the wall. Cammon, in front of her.” He and Hammond took up stations on either side of the stone queen. “They’ll have to kill us to get to you, and they’ll have to come at us one at a time,” Justin said. “We can hold off an attack for a good long while.”
“Can you tell what’s happening?” Hammond asked Cammon.
He nodded numbly. He was trying very hard not to get sucked into the vortex of the action through the eyes of his friends—he needed to keep his focus
here
in case the battle turned their way. But he couldn’t help absorbing some of their rage and fear and ceaseless motion.
“Three Riders have fallen, but I can’t tell which ones,” he said. “Not Tayse. There are close battles up and down the halls of the palace, and it’s hard to tell who’s winning. Kirra and Donnal and the other shape-shifters are tackling the ones who are still outside, trying to prevent them from getting into the palace. A few Riders are still on the lawns, too.”
“My father?” Amalie demanded. “Valri?”
“Alive,” Cammon said.
“Senneth?” Justin asked.
“Fighting with a sword instead of fire.”
“Where’s the city guard?” Hammond asked.
“Massed on the outskirts of the city to keep away an army,” Justin replied. “I’m guessing no one had time to run for them. But the fire on the walls should alert them that there’s something wrong! They’re probably on their way.”
“Why didn’t—red and silver hell!” Hammond exclaimed. He pointed with his sword. “One of them just peered around that statue and saw me. Probably saw the princess’s hair. He ran off, but I’m betting he’ll be back with friends.”
Justin nodded curtly and shifted his stance.
In less than two minutes, they heard the sound of running feet, and more than a dozen invaders came weaving through the statues. They moved with a curious and well-trained grace; they held their swords as if the heavy weapons weighed hardly anything. As they drew closer, Cammon could see that their black hoods were really close-fitting caps sewn with scales of metal. Their chests were covered with similar protective garments, gleaming blackly in the sun.
“Hard to kill,” Justin commented.
“One at a time,” Hammond said.
The enemies descended.
Amalie screamed as the blades engaged. Cammon’s own sword was out, but Justin and Hammond beat back the first wave of attackers with relative ease. Still, it was clear that they would soon be overmatched. The slim black-clad soldiers pushed closer, attacked in pairs, tried to squeeze past the tall statue. One of them had leapt to the pedestal and was climbing up the queen’s skirts as if he would scale the statue and launch himself at Amalie from above. It didn’t take much imagination to picture two or three others swarming up the back of the marble shell with the same intention. Justin thrust his sword straight through one attacker’s armor-plated throat and shoved him aside. A new one leapt over the growing pile of bodies and presented a fresh blade.
Cammon was awash in Amalie’s terror, could practically feel the smooth cold stone against her hands as she pressed her body to the wall. He was almost dizzy with so much motion, so much blood. He could sense every swing of Tayse’s sword, every thrust of Senneth’s, even as he watched Justin and Hammond strike and hammer. Kirra swooped; Donnal leapt. Everywhere was violence, danger, and destruction.
Hammond cried out and staggered to one side, and an attacker charged through.
Amalie shrieked. Cammon didn’t even feel his sword hand come down as he severed the soldier’s head at the shoulder. There was a spray of blood, then the falling body, jingling with metal as it crashed to the ground. Hammond had forced himself upright and was now wielding his sword with his left hand, but he was gravely wounded. Cammon doubted he would be able to fight another ten minutes, even another five.
Justin cut down another soldier and instantly took on the next.
“Hammond!” Justin shouted. “Hammond, what’s your damage?”
“Deep,” the other Rider shouted back.
“Cammon, you’ll have to take his place!”
The soldier who had climbed the statue now swung over the queen’s head and dropped lightly to his feet right in front of Cammon. This time there was no single lucky blow. This time, Cammon had to slash and parry and slash again, panic and adrenaline making him crazed. He had never been a skilled swordsman; he had always relied on his uncanny intuition to know where his opponent was going to land the next blow. But he could read nothing from this man’s mind, had no advantage whatsoever except a year’s worth of intermittent training with the best fighters in the country.
It was enough, at least this time. Cammon thrust suddenly and hard, breaking through the protective layer and opening the man’s heart. With a strangled cry, the soldier fell. Cammon stepped back, gasping for breath.
“Bright Mother burn me,” Justin said in a voice so quiet it was the most frightening tone he could have used. Cammon peered around the Rider’s flashing sword to see another ten soldiers streaming into the garden. Hammond was fading fast; it was a miracle he was still on his feet, still wielding a sword. Justin could not possibly hold off another ten men.
“Sweet gods,” Cammon whispered, and felt black despair swamp his heart. “We cannot save her.”
Just then the air was split with a sound that made his blood spoil in his veins.
For a second, everyone froze—Justin, Hammond, their attackers, the new invaders darting through the statuary. The unearthly sound came again, so venomous, so menacing, that it was impossible not to start shaking with fear.
Even though Cammon knew what it was.
One of the attackers uttered a shaky curse and lifted his sword again. But before he could swing his blade, a dark red shape erupted into the sunny garden, announcing its presence with a third horrifying shriek.
And then it leapt for the nearest black-clad soldier and cleanly ripped his head off.
Justin started fighting like a madman. “The raelynx!” he cried. He didn’t add the one clear thought he had in his head.
Maybe if it kills off the invaders, it will be too tired to go after the rest of us.
He just accepted it as the gift from the gods that it truly was and went after his enemies with fresh vigor.
Hammond was done for, falling against the edge of the marble shell in a dead faint of blood loss and exhaustion. Cammon surged forward, his sword uplifted, but the opponent who faced him could not concentrate when the men behind him were screaming in agony and panic. Emitting a range of truly terrifying cries, the raelynx bounded between enemy soldiers with a fierce abandon, dragging down one, then another, in a bloodthirsty frenzy. In two minutes, it had killed five men. It licked its red mouth, looked around, and leapt. Six men.
Cammon took advantage of his opponent’s inattention and gouged him through the neck. Burbling and choking, the man fell to the ground. Cammon felt Justin’s intense satisfaction as his own opponent fell.
The raelynx screeched again and brought down its seventh victim.
There were only four invaders left now and it was clear they realized their situation had grown perilous. Two of them began to run, and the raelynx went straight after them, catching one before he had gone six paces. The man’s wild yells of pain and fear were abruptly silenced, and the raelynx bounded after his companion.
Justin charged over the bodies at his feet and descended upon the last attackers, who stood transfixed with horror. One of them turned to make a fight of it, but his fellow stumbled away, hoping to escape. Justin pulled his bloody blade from the soldier’s throat and turned to locate his last enemy. Just then the raelynx sailed over a low stone bench and knocked the fleeing man to the ground. There was an unholy sound of ripping, a cry of utter desolation—and then a spine-chilling noise from the raelynx, who lifted his red mouth and loosed a primitive howl of triumph.
Now the only ones left alive in the garden were Justin, Cammon, Amalie, and Hammond, and Hammond was as near death as made no difference. Cammon saw Justin make a quick assessment and shift his mental focus.
My human enemies are dead. Now I must face this feral creature.
Circling just a little, so his back was to Amalie, Justin gathered his sword in both hands and dropped into a crouch of readiness.
Cammon called out in a low voice. “Justin. No. He won’t harm any of us.”
Justin relaxed, but not completely. “Is it Donnal, then? I didn’t think, even in animal form, Donnal could move so fast.”
“No,” said Cammon. “It’s the wild raelynx.” He glanced at Amalie, who had dropped to the ground next to Hammond. “The princess called him.”
Justin risked one quick look over his shoulder at Cammon. “How did it get out of the enclosure?” Not,
How did she call him?
Justin had seen the mystical connection between Amalie and the big cat. He could accept miracles, but his mind always ran on practical matters.
“I think it leapt the wall.”
Justin backed up slowly toward the marble shell, picking his way carefully through fallen bodies. “If it could do that, why didn’t it ever try before?”
“I guess it didn’t want to badly enough.”
“You keep an eye on it,” Justin commanded, pushing past Cammon to kneel beside Hammond. “How is he?” he asked Amalie.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know much about injuries. I think he’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Someone taught you how to bind a wound,” Justin commented. “We can’t do anything else for him until we get help.”
Amalie came to her feet, slowly, shakily. She put her hand out and Cammon took it. She was so cold she was trembling. Or maybe she was trembling with fear and shock. But she was trying hard to remain calm, to not fall to pieces. “What’s happening now?” she asked Cammon, and her voice was almost steady. “What do we do next?”
Cammon pulled Amalie closer, into a true hug, but kept part of his attention on the raelynx. The big cat seemed to have lost its bloodlust and was now consumed with curiosity. It trotted from corpse to corpse, sniffing at its fallen foes and occasionally licking down a bright swath of blood. “Do you have complete control of him?” he asked her quietly. “Or should he be our next point of concern?”
“He’s fine,” she said with a touch of impatience. “What’s happening at the palace? Can you tell?”
There had been so much action here the past few minutes that Cammon had had no attention to spare for the rest of the compound, but now he let his mind skip through the palace grounds, seeking information. Instantly, he picked up good news. “The city guard is here!” he exclaimed. “Five hundred men. All the attackers are dead or disabled, but Tayse and the other soldiers are going through the palace, double-checking.” He grimaced. “Bodies everywhere.”
“What about our losses?” Justin demanded as he rose to his feet.
“I can’t tell. None of
us
have fallen.” He could pick up clear, if weary, signals from Tayse, Senneth, Kirra, and Donnal, and he sent them all a strong message in return.
Justin and Amalie and I all live.