The Broken Eye (111 page)

Kip saw the moment yawn open. One more touch, his Guile mind said, and these men will flee.

But he was holding the green shield and he couldn’t—

Ferkudi heaved Ben-hadad into the lift, and Teia—visible now—jumped in a moment after. Cruxer threw the lever.

The lift shot up. It hit the first stop, throwing them all into the air, and ground to a stop. It fell back to the ground.

There were shouts of alarm, pain, injury, weakness, and rage going up from the Lightguards. Kip stood up, dropping the green shield, as Cruxer wrestled to put on more counterweights.

A man was rushing them. Kip drafted a green spike and stabbed him in the face. The Lightguard fell into him, still alive, still fighting. Kip elbowed him across the nose, and he went down. Saw another man rushing them, a blunderbuss in one hand.

Kip shot another green spike but missed as the man slipped on a pool of blood.

The man slid almost into their feet. He didn’t try to stand; instead, he grabbed for the blunderbuss. At this range, he might take out half the squad.

Winsen was on him with a knife in an instant.

The knife went in and out and in and out of the man’s belly, like a tailor rapidly drawing a stitch.

In and out and in and out and in and out and in and out, Winsen wasn’t stopping, and it was cold and it was hot and it was bloody and wet and slick and dirty and gruesome and necessary. The man was still fighting, drawing the end of his blunderbuss down to point at Winsen’s face.

Ferkudi leapt onto the pile and pointed the barrel out toward more charging Lightguards. Winsen yanked the trigger and the blunderbuss fired, and the Lightguards were peppered with whatever had been in the barrel, but were too far away to be killed.

With his one good hand, Big Leo hauled the man off the pile and threw him off the lift. But another Lightguard was already coming, face bloodied but not stopping. Kip shot a hammerfist of green and blew a shower of teeth and blood across himself. The Lightguard fell across the gap, halfway between being in the lift and not in it as Cruxer threw the lever again.

They flew upward, and the Lightguard flew up with them into the lift shaft. He screamed as his body blocked the lift’s ascent, pinched between the floor of the lift and the sides of the lift shaft.

But he only screamed for a moment, as muscle and bone and mail tore. Half a man was left as they flew skyward, and then as they rammed through the one-way doors at each level, and the body got trapped and scraped off at each successive level, less and less. Half, a third, a head and an arm, a helmet with a head in it, and then nothing at all—of what had been a man, ten seconds ago.

Kip fell backward onto his ass, staring horrified, as a man disappeared into the maw of war.

They clanged through level after level. With how much counterweight Cruxer had set, they never paused long. Several times, they saw astounded guards, who never so much as fired their muskets.

And then the squad hit the top level.

None of them had reloaded on the trip up. Inexperience, or trauma, or plain horror overwhelming their training. Kip hadn’t drawn in any more luxin.

There was no Lightguard checkpoint, and the Blackguards recognized them and came running. Cruxer kept his cool, and it was a blessing from Orholam himself, because out of the others, only Winsen kept his, too. Together, they pulled everyone off the lift.

“Lightguards,” Cruxer said to the Blackguards stationed there. “They’re after us. You can’t fight them or you’ll start a war. But please, please, help.”

“Oh, shit!” Kip said. “Where’s Teia?”

She spoke behind him. “I’m right here. Cruxer waited for me to get in the lift.”

The Blackguards on duty were baffled. The woman, Nerra, went immediately to Ben-hadad, though, and started examining his leg.

“What are you talking about?” Little Piper asked. “What’s happening? We’ve seen the wall crystals going crazy, but they aren’t any of our codes, and we couldn’t leave our posts. The commander hasn’t answered any of our queries.”

“Commander Ironfist’s been kicked out of the Blackguard,” Kip said. It occurred to him that he should lie, that lying would make it easier to get these two on their side.

“Orholam, Ben-hadad, what have they done to you?” Nerra said. “Who’s behind this?”

“My grandfather,” Kip said. “He set the Lightguard after us, and he’s the one who relieved Ironfist of his position.”

“What? What?!” Little Piper demanded. He wasn’t a tall man, but he was wide, with a shaved head and intense brown eyes under half-halos of yellow and orange.

“The commander agreed to go quietly. He didn’t want to cause war between the Blackguard and the Lightguard. Said the promachos would take the excuse to eliminate the Blackguard altogether.”

“To hell with that!” Little Piper said. “I’ll, I’ll—”

“Shut up,” Nerra said. “We’ll delay them, young ones. What are you doing?”

“We need to go to the White’s room. Can we?” Kip asked.

They could stop them.

The two Blackguards looked at each other. Some silent understanding went between them. They were in love, Kip saw, some intuitive part of him seeing it from how they understood each other.

“I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but I need to say this,” Little Piper said. “The White’s in there still. She’s dead. You won’t disturb her.”

“Of course,” Cruxer said. “Is Ben-hadad fit to travel? Ben, do you still want to come with us?”

“He’ll never fight again,” Nerra said. She looked at Ben-hadad. “The leg’s ruined. Sorry to say it, but it’s true.”

Ben-hadad shrank. “Can I come? Please?” He turned to Cruxer. “I don’t want to … I can’t be left behind. I’m no Daelos, you understand? This squad is everything to me.”

Nerra nodded, and so did Cruxer, who said, “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“We’ll buy you as much time as we can without a clash of arms,” Nerra said. “Go, and Orholam shield you.”

They ran down the hall and up the stairs and went past the two Blackguards who stood silent at the White’s door. Kip recognized Gill Greyling, but each Blackguard pretended not to see them.

Kip went out to the balcony. It was still early morning. Orholam’s beard, how was it still early morning? It felt like a thousand years since dawn.

He rummaged through his pack, looking for the card he’d tucked away not half an hour ago. He glanced at the White’s bed, where her corpse lay. He kissed thumb and two fingers and flung a quick blessing at her.

He found the card in his breast pocket. It had been preserved between plates of glass. Kip had nicely broken those in his tumble down the stairs, but the card was undamaged. He drew it out and, while rapidly switching between spectacles and sheathing each as he was done with it in order to draw in all seven colors at once, said, “I have no idea how long this will take me. Just … just defend me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“We’ll hold,” Ferkudi said, and he spoke for them all.

Kip felt, in that moment, an overwhelming love for these people.

He wouldn’t fail them.

Holding the card in his left hand, he drew the colors into his right and touched the five points.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap
.

“Got it,” he said.

He looked up, wondering if any of them would still be alive, if he had done it in time.

“Huh?” Ferkudi asked.

Kip was looking down at his left wrist. The tattoo was back, but it was already fading, as if its colors were connected to the colors he drafted. He looked up. “What do you mean, ‘Huh’?”

“Uh, you didn’t
do
anything,” Cruxer said.

“What did you see?” Teia asked.

“I … I … I can’t remember,” Kip said.

“What?!” Ben-hadad said. “You mean
that
was it working? And you don’t remember what it did?”

“Ben, I love you to death, but shut the hell up,” Cruxer said. “Breaker, what do we do?”

“I can’t remember anything—” Kip said.

“We came up here so you could remember
nothing
?!” Big Leo demanded. He was kind of an asshole when he was in pain.

“It’s outside of time, Big Leo,” Kip said. “It’s—I can’t remember anything right now. But I’ll remember it in the future, I think. Except, except one thing. We have to go upstairs.”

“There is no upstairs. Except the roof,” Cruxer said. “Oh. In for a den, in for a danar. Up to the roof!”

With Ferkudi and Cruxer helping Ben-hadad, they piled out of the room, past the Blackguards, who looked after them, wondering. They went out the door to the stairs up to the rooftop.

“Well, at least those Lightguards are gone,” Big Leo said. “Of course, there’s nothing else up here, either.”

“Big Leo, Winsen, Ferkudi, you guard the door,” Cruxer said. “Kip? Please, please, please tell me you’ve got something.”

“It’s…” Kip squeezed his eyes shut. There had been something. It was about this space. He could almost taste the memories. He knew, somehow, that he had seen all of the White’s life, every decision, every regret, every maneuver, and yet … he couldn’t grab on to it.

Oh, come on! What’s the point in having powers if they don’t come through when you need them?

“Teia,” Kip said. “There’s something here. I’m sure of it.”

“Something? Like, what? Like the entrance to her secret escape tunnel?” Teia asked. “Kip, I don’t think there’s room up here for a tunnel entrance.”

“Teia, I don’t know!”

“It
was
a tunnel,” Ferkudi said, suddenly excited. “That my parents talked about. I mean, it was a tunnel under the sea. Out to Cannon Island. Tunnel.” He pointed down, as if they weren’t grasping an obvious point. “But, but, I don’t think you’d start a tunnel from up
here
. Maybe in the basement?”

“Ferk, did you miss the whole convers— You know what? Never mind,” Kip said.

Teia was holding a hand up against the sun, trying to shield her eyes as she flared them open to paryl width, blinking from the intensity of the light.

There was a shout from inside. It was the Blackguards, but Kip knew they were simply doing their best to give Kip and the Mighty a warning.

“Does the door lock?” Cruxer asked.

Winsen shook his head. “Only from the inside. Anyone have arrows? Shit. Anyone know how to draft arrows?”

No one said anything.

Big Leo, arm still in a brace, leaned his weight against the door. “Please tell me they don’t have muskets,” he said. Still in pain from his broken arm, but resigned now.

Resigned to die well. This is what I’ve brought my friends to.

“Breaker,” Teia said. “Your spectacles. Try them. Try them all.”

Kip put on his sub-red spectacles. They were still a wonder, overlaying all the detail of sub-red without making him sacrifice the visible spectrum. Possibly the handiwork of Lucidonius himself. But not helpful. He flipped them back into their case and drew the superviolet, again, more helpful than narrowing his eyes to superviolet himself because he could see the spectra overlaid simultaneously. He looked around, not knowing what he was looking for.

The door rattled and jumped as someone tried to fling it open.

They hadn’t expected resistance. They tried again.

“Ignore that!” Teia said. “What about over here?”

At the door, Big Leo crouched down, still keeping his shoulder braced against the door, but as low as he could.

Two shots rang out, and wood splintered at head and shoulder level. If Leo hadn’t moved, he would have been dead.

Winsen pushed a tiny flashbomb through the hole the musket balls had torn.

“Kip!” Teia said. “I see something!”

Kip looked at the spot she was pointing out. There was something there, barely visible in superviolet. It was the shape of a key. Kip pressed it, hard, and it sank.

Text appeared, burning white in the floor at the very edge of the tower. It was in some language Kip didn’t know. “Uh … anyone read this? What is it?” Kip asked the squad.

Cruxer glanced over. “That’s archaic Parian. It says, um, it’s a formal case, um, something like ‘Would ye fly, o White?’” Another key appeared, larger.

“Yes!” Kip said. “That’s it!” There was another key next to the text. He pushed it down with his whole hand.

A panel slid back, and a long lever appeared. Kip looked at Teia, excited.

Wood exploded within a breath of Big Leo’s face. Shrapnel tore his cheek. “What are you waiting for?” he bellowed.

Kip heaved on the lever. He pulled it all the way back until it touched stone. They heard something grate and grind. They all looked around, expecting a hole to appear.

“Where’s the entrance? You think it’s some kind of chute?” Teia asked.

“Uh, there’s a whaddaythingit over here,” Ferkudi said, pointing.

On the inside of one of the crenellations, a bolt had appeared. Wrapped around the eye bolt was woven a steel cable that disappeared into the stones at their feet, which were glowing.

“Don’t stand on it!” Teia said.

“It … it ratchets, the lever,” Ben-hadad said.

“What?” Teia asked.

But Kip got it. He threw the lever forward and pulled it back again.

“Not much time left!” Big Leo shouted.

“Not acceptable!” Cruxer yelled. “Light ’em up!”

Who yells, ‘Not acceptable’?

With each throw of the lever, more steel cable popped out of the ground, slowly crossing the entire diameter of the tower. “What is it doing?” Kip asked. “Where’s the damn hole? There’s got to be some kind of chute, right?”

He heard the sounds of luxin being flung and shouts and musket fire and the wood door disintegrating, but he had time for none of it. His world had shrunk to this duty, this place. The steel cable finally popped fully free of the floor and wrapped over what looked like a pulley on a post at the edge of the tower.

Kip pulled it again and this time it stopped. He pushed the lever and pulled back with no resistance. It was finished, whatever
it
was. “That’s it!” he said. “What do we got?”

“That’s no chute,” Ferkudi said, looking off the edge.

“Captain! Can you hold the door without Ferkudi? I need him!” Ben-hadad said.

“Yes! Go!” Cruxer said. He had his spectacles on and was throwing luxin through the holes in the door. The door was barely hanging by its hinges, splintered and torn by musket balls.