The Way Into Chaos (8 page)

This is the feeling that comes just before grief. You are about to see your brother murdered in front of you because he is trying to be a hero which is your fault because this was your idea. This is how you feel just before grief overwhelms you and makes you wish you could die with him.

The screams from below became more intense, distracting her. The creatures tore through the crowd, knocking people about like brooms. Each victim received a terrible bite wound, some instantly fatal but not all, as the monsters battered their way through the mob. Men, women, and children fell before them. One of the city guard pushed against the surging mob in an effort to shut the Little Gate, but there was no hope of that.
 

Lar scrambled toward the chimneys at the front of the house. As he moved, he started to strip off that long, gaudy coat, but it tangled on the strap of his quiver.
 

“Here!” Col yelled. He slid out of his gray-and-red jacket, then tossed it to the prince. Lar held it by the collar and let the hem hang over the far edge of the roof where Cazia could not see. A moment later, the two of them heaved it back up but, only now it had a girl clinging to it.

It was the Indregai princess: pale, tiny, and severe in her white house robe. Cazia knew she was a few years older than Jagia, but she looked shockingly young. The princess scrambled handily onto the peak of the roof, then began chattering at the prince, pointing back the way she’d come.
 

Lar did not seem not interested in taking orders. He scrambled to his feet, pulling Colchua upright with him. Timush shouted at them, waving them back toward the dangling tether, and Cazia hissed at the noise he was making. Lar practically shoved the princess toward the cart, and a renewed chorus of screams from below made her do as she was told.

An iron dart cracked the tile roof near the chimney. The sound startled Cazia, but she drew a spike from her jacket pocket without thinking about it and began to cast.
 

One of the creatures had dragged itself over the edge of the roof. The clerk had cast at it, missing, but Doctor Warpoole had begun a spell of her own.
 

“Great Way,” Treygar prayed, his voice tight, “protect the prince. Keep him on your path.”

Doctor Warpoole’s dart flew with surprising speed, but it struck the creature low on the back, practically on its hip. Cazia did her best to lead with her own spell, just the way she had to lead the hoops during Doctor Twofin’s lessons. She struck the beast on its high back below the neck. It sprawled on the tiles and tumbled down the steep roof slope.

Cazia started another spell right away. A second creature appeared at the top of the southernmost chimney. The clerk fired another dart, striking the brick just below the creature’s furred hind hand. At least she was getting closer.
 

Cazia wasn’t going to finish her spell in time, and Doctor Warpoole hadn’t even started a new one yet. Lar had a quiver of his own, of course, but his back was turned. Cazia kept her hands moving, her mind falling into the necessary state, despite the fact that she knew it was futile. The only way she could avoid this awful grief would be if the creature hesitated.
 

It didn’t. It leaped from the chimney at the prince. Cazia could feel tragedy flying at her like a volley of arrows.

Timush shouted and dove forward, throwing his shoulder into the monster’s leg while it was still in mid-leap. The beast fell heavily on top of Timush. It roared in frustration, almost drowning out Timu’s cry of pain, then they rolled over and slid toward the gutter. Timush kicked at the monster’s broad back, trying to put some distance between them.

Col shouted, “Lar, save the princess!” before diving down the side of the roof, sliding on his belly after his friend. Cazia finished her spell, launching her dart directly into the left side of the monster’s chest. Doctor Warpoole fired off a shot a moment later, stabbing through its forearm. Col caught hold of Timush’s collar and clutched at the roof tiles, desperately trying to stop their momentum.

The monster braced itself against the gutter below and spun suddenly, lunging awkwardly toward the two of them. Col shouted, “NO!” and threw himself across Timush’s body.
 

The creature bit down on Colchua’s forearm.
 

Cazia’s concentration broke and she felt a sudden flush of shame and anger as she started her spell again. Ciriam fired a dart, but she was so worried about hitting Col and Timush that she went low of the mark, skipping off the wall below the eaves. Timush kicked, hard, and the gutter broke away. The injured creature fell into the alley below, and the force of Timu’s kick stole most of the momentum from his slide.

Clutching the tiles at the peak of the roof, Lar reached toward Col and Timu. Treygar leaned over the rail, muttering, “Into the cart. Into the cart,” as though he could will the prince to flee, but the prince was not going to abandon his friends.
 

Timush struggled to get his feet under him--his face was horribly pale and his shoulder looked crooked. Col cradled his injured forearm but he was still moving quickly, helping Lar drag Timush toward the tether.
 

“Help the princess,” Stoneface snapped, startling Cazia out of her follow-up spell. Fire and Fury, Cazia knew she would be useless if she let every sharp word break her concentration! The princess’s hands had appeared on the railing. Bittler jumped up as though woken from a trance, took hold of the little girl, and hauled her over the edge.
 

The cart had floated away from the roof, too slowly to be immediately noticeable, but it was happening. Maybe Farrabell didn’t even realize he was doing it. Cazia turned toward Stoneface and said, “We should move closer to them.”

Treygar jabbed him lightly to catch his attention. “Turn the cart so the tether line is near the prince.”

To his credit, the driver did so immediately. “Lower!” Lar called from below. “I need more slack.”
 

The driver did so, fear sweat pouring down his face. Cazia leaned out over the rail and saw the prince loop the end of the tether around Timush’s waist, then press Col against him. “Embrace your cousin,” Lar said. “Your love will save you both.” There were no more of the creatures in sight.

Col threw himself against Timush and let Lar wrap the rope around them both. “Bad enough I have to stick my arm in a monster’s mouth for him. Don’t make me kiss him, too.” The prince grinned as he tied the knot.

Ciriam cast another dart, and this time she struck a beast on the hand as it climbed the chimney. A beast Cazia had not noticed until that moment. It lost its grip, falling out of sight.

Cazia turned to her. “How does it feel to finally hit one?” The clerk burst into tears.

“UP!” the prince called from below.

“Gently,” Stoneface added, holding the point of the spike close to the driver’s belly. The man moved the lever slowly but smoothly.
 

Cazia leaned over the rail again. Col and Timu dangled from within a knotted loop. Lar clung to the rope above them, his foot wedged into the knot. Treygar added, “Very good, Wimnel. Now take us over the wall. I want you to pick up speed without jarring the prince below.”
 

Cazia felt a sudden pointed elbow in her kidneys. The foreign princess squeezed between her and Doctor Warpoole, moving toward Stoneface. “Man, my rescuers are not yet safe. Set down on a flat roof so we can bring them aboard.”

“I am not your man,” Treygar snapped at her. “And we will not be setting down
anywhere
inside the walls. Now please sit down. You do not command here.”

“How dare you!” The girl’s voice was high and strident. “My line goes back forty-six generations to the Chieftains of the Forty Valleys! My people—”

Cazia caught the girl by the arm. “Vilavivianna, isn’t it?” The girl’s name came to her at the same moment she spoke it. “Princess Vilavivianna of Goldgrass Hill? We met last midwinter at Lar’s party. Do you remember me?” Cazia lowered her voice. “Let me speak honestly with you: we are not your subjects and you are twelve years old. No one is going to follow your orders. Now please let us do what we have to.”
 

The little princess looked as if she was about to fly into a rage, but instead, she clenched her jaw and turned her back. Cazia thanked The Child for small favors, then leaned over the railing.

They floated high over the wall, beyond the mudflat hovels that clung to the city wall. Screams and panic had already reached here, and Cazia saw a large creature leap from the top of the wall onto a muddy street, then dash into the nearest building. A half dozen muddy children burst screaming through the doors, and she saw the monster knock one down and sink its teeth into the back of her thigh, then leap at another. It occurred to her that the monsters were the same color as Pagesh’s lilacs and, for some absurd reason, that made everything even more terribly unfair.

“They’re tasting us,” Cazia said. “They bite, but since we left the palace, I haven’t yet seen anyone actually eaten.”

“Some creatures prefer to drag their food to a protected place to eat,” Doctor Warpoole said. “In fact, it’s possible that their bites are envenomed.”
 

Horrified, Cazia spun toward the doctor. Was she suggesting Col
 
had been poisoned and was as good as dead?
 

The older woman met her gaze with an expression as flat and blank as a serpent’s.

On a high plaza between the mudflat slums and the Circle Way, soldiers had formed two squares. They were dressed in black and red, their spears extending far beyond their shield walls, and their cuirasses and greaves gleamed in the gentle rain.
 

Treygar blurted out, “That’s Third Splashtown!” as though they might save the entire city. The name didn’t mean anything to Cazia, but she made note of their banner, a red waterfall on a black background. The unmistakable note of hope in Stoneface’s voice gave her hope as well.

Behind them, a fleet squad of unarmored soldiers ran with bows and spears, moving to line up at an angle to the two squares. Cazia noted that many of them were women, and she wished she had been permitted to practice with a spear or a bow. They were going to
fight
the invader, and she flushed with shame that she could not be down there, too.

“SHOCK LINE!” Treygar yelled down to them. “SHOCK LINE!”

After a moment’s confusion at who was shouting at them, a man with a long brush along the top of his helmet--the commander, clearly--began barking orders, and the front line of spearmen braced the butts of their weapons in the cracks of the paving stones.

The cart flew over them, picking up speed. “How much farther?” Lar called from below. Cazia leaned far out and saw the prince clinging to the rope with the crook of his elbow. Her stupid, awful imagination suddenly pictured him losing his grip and falling away--pictured his expression—and she had to look away. “Timush doesn’t look good,” he added.

It was true. Timush was conscious but his skin was pasty. Cazia had never seen anyone go into shock, but she knew it could be as deadly as the point of a knife.
 

“Yes, my prince.” Treygar turned to Wimnel. “Find a place to set down. We have to get those injured men off the rope and we can’t drag them.”

The driver glanced nervously back toward the city. “My tyr, we must find a road—”

“We can’t fly all the way to Fort Samsit with the prince hanging by his fingers—”
 

“My tyr—”

“--And two men who risked their lives for him dying at the end of a rope like common murderers!” Cazia was startled by the note of desperation in Stoneface’s voice. For a moment, he seemed to be concerned about Col and Timu.

“My tyr, trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to set down here.” He nodded toward the marshy grasslands around them. “The cart wheels will get stuck in the mud and the disk wouldn’t be able to pull us out. We’d have to lift the cart free physically, then hover low while everyone loads on, and if we dipped too far down, we’d touch the mud and have to start again. It’s something the scholars don’t yet understand about this Gift, but we must set down on dry ground to take off again. I swear by Song and Monument this is the truth, Fire take me if it’s not.”
 

Cazia believed him, and by the way Tyr Treygar grimaced, she could see he did, too. A chill ran down her back. If Old Stoneface couldn’t keep his stoicism, what hope did they have to preserve anything? “We’ll all be Fire-taken if we don’t find a safe place to set down,” Treygar said.

The Eastern Way would have been a safe place to put down, but it was behind them. By the time they circled back to it, they might find it overrun by beasts. Still, Doctor Warpoole began to insist they turn about, while Tyr Treygar refused to listen.

Typical of Stoneface and the others to be arguing over who should be in charge when they should have been searching for a safe place to set down. Cazia looked out over the tall yellow grass, letting her vision go unfocused as she looked at everything and nothing. She’d always had strong eyesight, and her habit of watching the palace staff and guards without seeming to had taught her the trick of spotting the thing that doesn’t fit.
 

The grasslands were marshy and wet, yes, but there was dry ground out there, too, if you knew how to spot it.

“We have to turn back to the south,” Doctor Warpoole said again. “The flat stones of the Eastern Way—”

“There!” Cazia called, pointing to the north a bit. “Do you see the fringe of grass?”

“No,” Treygar said, but he gestured toward Wimnel, ordering him to head in that direction. He leaned over the rail and called down, “A bit farther, my prince.”

The fringe of grass did not mark a road, but it did hide a broken stone foundation. Wimnel looked over of the rail at it and nodded. He could set down here.

He lowered the cart gently and deftly at the edge of the foundation, laying the prince and his two friends on the stony slope outside the foundation. Then he rotated and slowly settled the cart inside the shattered walls. Cazia studied the way he handled the controls.