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I didn’t see Nostar again until hours later.
I clung to Saboraak’s saddle as the press of bodies rushed against me.
“Slowly!” I called through a raw throat. “Slowly and orderly or you will trample people to death! Flaming –!”
I cut the curse off only by almost biting my own tongue. I was sweaty and exhausted and Saboraak couldn’t stop shifting with nerves at every rush of wind.
I worry that Tachril will fall before I see him again.
I rolled my eyes. Tachril would be fine. He was thousands of pounds of dragon and able to take flight at any moment. Unlike the people who passed me clinging to the few possessions they could scoop up on the way.
None of this feels right, Tor.
Of course it wasn’t right. Even my belly felt sick and knotted.
“It will be okay,” I said aloud, rubbing the scales of her neck.
I wiped my brow with my sleeve. I didn’t even bother to cover the bright markings on my face. The eyes of every new person I met widened the moment they saw them, but the moment I started speaking and explaining what was on the horizon, all thought about my looks vanished in the desperate dash for survival.
Perhaps the markings even added weight to a stranger’s words. After all, if the end had come, wouldn’t strange beings come with it to announce the need to flee?
Or maybe I was just hallucinating from exhaustion. It wouldn’t be the first time. I’d thought I’d seen Eventen duck into a guardhouse three cross-streets away a few hours ago. And then I thought I’d seen him again flying his dragon in the skies high above. I was certainly hallucinating.
Guilt hammered at me every time a wailing child was carried past or a wide-eyed parent asked if there would be time to flee.
There wouldn’t be. Not for everyone.
I already knew that, but I couldn’t accept it. Wouldn’t accept it.
“You should be gone already.” As my strength weakened, the mimic’s strength seemed to grow. He dogged my path now, speaking doubt into every minute. “It’s common sense. You’ve done your best here. And someone needs to fly out and warn the surrounding cities.”
Lee Estabis would see to that. I’d already seen two purples leave the city. Likely, he’d sent them out to warn the neighboring cities. Purples were fast. Their riders used to carrying urgent messages. They would do the job.
I rubbed my brow again.
“Make space there! There’s no point carrying all that. You’ll be exhausted before you reach the Castel. Drop it to the side and move on!” My voice wasn’t made for barking, but bark it did.
I’d been working my way out from the center and I was nearly at the perimeter. Most of the traffic traveled against me, but every so often Saboraak had to leap aside as a line of men went past. There were men armed and armored, and then when they ran out there were groups armed more haphazardly, and then as those ran out there were men sent out armed only with work implements – crowbars, shovels, axes, blacksmith hammers, pitchforks. They pushed past me to the places they’d been stationed by Estabis’ commanders.
They knew what they were doing – whatever that was. Hardened officers nodded to me on their way past. There was only one or two with each group of commandeered civilians. They would have to do – though what use would they be against golems?
They had buckets of tar and torches. Perhaps they planned to set them alight.
I watched them, simply glad not to be the one to lead these men to their deaths. That was a dirty business. Leading fathers and sons to slaughter. I felt ill just thinking about it.
Instead, I was leading women and children to their deaths – or that’s how it felt. How many of those I warned would see safety?
I gritted my teeth at the thought and forced aside the almost overwhelming feeling of helplessness that came whenever I thought of it. Zyla wouldn’t be thinking like that. She was already down in caverns beneath the earth in the dark and cold, leading a dangerous escape through a terrifying underground world. And she was probably standing at the head of the procession like a conquering hero, face alight with hope and hands raised high with courage.
I held onto that thought of her. If nothing else, her bold plan had accomplished one thing that I hadn’t realized I needed until now – it had kept her from what was coming.
Be safe, Zyla. Be bright and courageous somewhere far from here.
I could feel the golems closing in. They were at the stem of the city waiting. I didn’t know what they were waiting for, but I knew that with every delay we lost the chance for one more civilian to be safe.
I found the last row of houses against my assigned portion of the perimeter and I stood high in the stirrups, cupping my hands around my mouth.
“Any citizens of Estabis in these dwellings are ordered to take shelter in the Castel. Attack is imminent!” It was the same thing I’d shouted on every street along the way, ringing the bell I’d found at a butcher’s shop every time to get attention. My throat was raw and painful from shouting and my voice creaked from wear and tension.
I rang the bell, but there were few people left. Even at night, news travels. People had seen the commotion. They’d heard the soldiers rushing past and the commandeered men jangling with unfamiliar equipment. There were few left.
“Please!” A woman’s voice called from beside me. She sounded close to tears. “Please, can you help me! I can’t carry them all.”
She was the only one coming out on the street, her arms full of four children. One – a baby – was tied around her in a white scarf. Another she held on her hip while two little faces peered out from her skirts.”
I opened my mouth to tell her she’d need a different way to the Castel and then I felt it – a ripple. A ripple in the golems below.
Why could I feel them so easily? I’m no kin of yours, golems!
Tachril can see them! They climb!
“Climb up!” I yelled to the woman, my arms opening to take the toddler from her hip.
She shoved him into my arms at the same moment that he started screaming, reaching for her, his face a red mess of tears and snot. I was allergic to children but I clamped him in one arm, ignoring his battering fists and reached for another child, pulling the boy into the saddle in front of me.
Saboraak danced nervously and the children screamed in terror.
“Would you stop that?” I barked, not knowing if I meant her or them. I was nervous too. I was scared too. We all were. And I didn’t have time to be patient. None of us had time.
The next child was shoved at me, a little girl with long dark hair. I put her in front of her brother and reached an arm to help their struggling mother up behind me.
She was still clambering aboard when the first shadow peeked over the wall.