3.

 

Ayae had eased herself to the floor when she heard the alarm sound, the dull horn rolling through the streets. She and the half of Steel that were neither trapped in the barracks nor lying on the dirty ground of the mill had filtered into the streets and separated, slipping into the narrowest lanes they could find, which the raiders were not keen to follow them down. It was in one of those, a handful of Steel around her and Jae’le silently sitting in the empty, stripped branch of a tree above, that she heard the horn blast. She believed that it was a sign that Heast was moving his soldiers into position, but the mercenaries’ reaction—swearing and laughing bitterly—caused her to turn to Queila Meina.

“What did you expect he would do?” She addressed her soldiers from the top of an overturned crate, her injured left leg pushed out before her. “They dug through the Spine.”

That Ayae understood: the Spine sank deep into the ground, deep enough that many believed that it was fused to the vertebrae of Ger himself. The sheer enormity of the task for a force to push through centuries of stone and dirt packed into the ground was not lost on her.

“And they did it,” the Captain of Steel continued, “quietly, with none of us—not to mention the Captain or Lady of the Spine—knowing it was taking place. If you stop and think about the fact that we’ve been there for over two months now, the implications are not pleasant.”

“The mill was bought out a year ago.” Ayae pushed herself up from where she was sitting and approached the mercenary. “Everyone in the city knew. Heast is going to close one of the gates, isn’t he?”

Behind her, a loud shuddering, wooden creaking began to emerge.

“He’ll do more than that,” Meina said.

“More?”

Her smile was sour as her good foot tapped the ground. “He’ll collapse part of the city. This part. He’ll crash it into the tunnels below.”

Ayae could not respond.

“That’s what the gates are for,” the other woman continued. “You were all told that they form catchments, that they let Heast box in soldiers in parts of Mireea when they are overrun, and it’s true. What you weren’t told was that he has spent months restructuring and lining the underground passages so that he could collapse each part of the city safely without causing a chain reaction. He had the idea years ago when he realized portions of Mireea were built over empty caverns, but it wasn’t until this threat that he was given reason to do it.”

“How long?” Her voice failed her. “How long do we have?”

“Until the morning. We have some time, though whether it will be enough to regroup and pull half of Steel out of the mill, I don’t know.”

She stepped back behind the mercenaries as Meina talked to them and organized them despite their protests. She had two concerns, Ayae heard: those they had left behind and the split of their forces. To free those in the mill would require all of them, more than the dozen listening to her now; they would need a small force to draw the attention of the raiders and another to go in; and then they would have to fight a rearguard action to the gate. Ayae was not sure that they would be allowed through the shut gate if they arrived with a force, but she did not question it. Captain Heast had laid much of his plans in advance and told the people of Mireea very little of it, but she did not doubt that he and those under him had contingencies to ensure that their own soldiers would be evacuated safely.

It was clearer now than ever before that neither the Captain of the Spine nor those who knew the full extent of his plan expected to win once the siege began against Mireea. Until that moment she had nursed the belief that they had a chance, that Heast and the others she spoke to were pessimists and pragmatists, paid to plan for the worst. But that was not true, and the weight of that realization settled heavily on her, coupled with the knowledge that Heast planned to demolish all of Mireea as it was overrun, leaving nothing but rubble and debris for those who claimed it. Partly, she knew that he was doing it to ensure that he would not have to fight a retreat in the form of a long, bloody chain, spending the lives of mercenaries and soldiers and civilians as he made his way to Yeflam …

But.

But her home.

Her home would be gone.

Not lost, not stolen but gone.

Devastated, she walked down the narrow lane, closing her eyes to center herself.

“You have nothing to fear.”

She felt the raven’s claws pierce the fabric of her shirt.

“Head to the gate now,” Jae’le continued. “None here will stop you. You’re not a soldier. Once you are past it, find my brother. Find him and the two of you can be gone before the fighting starts. Before you are both forced to take part in this conflict.”

“Before we’re forced to take responsibility?” She spoke quickly, bitterly. “That’s what you really mean, isn’t it?”

She brushed the raven from her shoulder before he could reply and returned to where Meina was giving out orders. Her uncle—Bael, to judge by the axe he wore—had begun to argue, and as she drew closer, Ayae heard his voice: “—in no condition to lead anything that requires speed, and you know it,” and saw Meina shake her head. It became clear that she was alone in her opinion, for much of Steel were in agreement with the large man. Soon, she capitulated to their demands.

“Fine, uncle. Start gathering as many as we can, and prepare to move. We can’t stay in this alley much longer.” She turned to Ayae. “I can have someone take you to the gate, if you want?”

“Have them take the bird,” Ayae, who had once been a cartographer’s apprentice, replied. “I’ll go where I can help the most.”