26

The previous evening, Sebastian had been certain of so many things. The following morning, however, he was only certain of one: that he had acted like a complete fool.

As the bugle sounded to wake the army, and the first rays of morning filtered through the canvas of the officers’ tent, he lay on his sleeping roll and felt the hot sting of shame in his gut. He was tempted to blame the drink, but two cups of wine was hardly an excuse. Perhaps it had weakened his resolve to some degree, but he had still been in full control of his faculties when he gave in to his base emotions in front of near strangers and ruined his friend’s plan for a lighthearted, romantic evening.

But the true mistake had been in thinking he could even partake of such an experience in the first place. At least he understood that now. After what he had done in Izmoroz, what right did he have to enjoy himself? He could not even say how many lives he had taken. It didn’t matter that the empress had calmly brushed his guilt aside. He knew that he had done terrible wrong, and he would no longer hide from that fact.

“No time to dawdle, Captain,” Barone said cheerfully as he walked down the narrow aisle between bedrolls.

“Yes, sir.”

Sebastian forced himself to rise, though his limbs felt heavy, and his mouth tasted of ash.

Barone gave him a gently teasing smile. “I hope Oreste didn’t wear you out too much. We’ve got a long march ahead of us if we’re to reach Hardsong Pass before sunset.”

The general probably assumed Sebastian had stayed out as late as Marcello, who had stumbled into the tent reeking of sour wine only hours ago.

There didn’t seem much point in correcting the misapprehension, so Sebastian merely said, “Understood, sir,” and began rolling up his bedding.

Sebastian packed his saddlebags, then trudged out of the tent and over to where his horse was picketed. The whole army was up and about by then, humming with murmured conversation peppered with the occasional clank of weapons and armor. The morning air was still cool and damp, but the sun had already begun to warm things up. It was another beautiful day in Aureum, although Sebastian’s present mood would have found the dismal gray of Izmoroz more complementary.

As he hitched his bags to his horse, he spotted Marcello, looking very worn out as he fastened his own saddlebags to his mount.

Sebastian heaved a sigh and headed over to him. The least he could do was apologize for spoiling the mood last night. Hopefully the aide-de-camp’s late return at least meant they had rallied after Sebastian’s departure.

“Marcello,” he said as he drew near.

“Oh, hi, Portinari.” Marcello glanced at him, looking uncomfortable. Then he went back to fussing with his saddlebags. It seemed he was still mad, which was completely understandable.

“I’m… sorry about last night,” said Sebastian.

Marcello turned back to him, looking surprised. “You’re sorry?”

“Well, yes. I should have been honest enough with myself to know I wasn’t up for an evening out. And I most certainly shouldn’t have spoken as harshly as I did. I do hope I didn’t spoil the entire evening for you and the ladies.”

Marcello pressed his lips together, his face tense. Then he squeezed Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Portinari, you ninny. I’m the one who should be apologizing. Here I’d been, swaggering about like I was some big important hero. And for what? To impress some girls I’ll likely never see again?” He let go of Sebastian’s shoulder and turned away. “I’ve been living the comfortable life as aide-de-camp to the kindest and least demanding general in the Aureumian Army, without even a glimpse of actual combat. Meanwhile, you were up in that northern hellscape fighting desperately against vicious insurgents and man-eating undead, forced to make impossible choices merely to survive.” He shook his head. “I’m ashamed of myself, Sebastian. I’m sorry I spoke so insensitively.”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to stare in surprise. His friend made it all sound a lot more noble than it had actually been, but he appreciated the consideration regardless.

“Well,” he said at last, “I suppose we’re still getting to know each other. So things like this are bound to happen now and then.”

Marcello smiled gratefully. “I suppose that’s how we get to know each other better.”

Sebastian allowed himself a return smile, but though he was glad he had patched things up with Marcello, it didn’t ease the dark sorrow that had nestled itself in his chest. Even having such a kind and thoughtful friend as Marcello gave him a vague sense of guilt, as if it was a luxury he did not deserve. After all, he was responsible for a multitude of sins. Now that he fully recognized that fact, he wondered with increasing dread whether he had any hope of redemption.

The bugle sounded again, signaling it was time to form up and prepare for another long march. Sebastian and Marcello dutifully mounted their horses along with the other officers, then ensured that the infantry had formed up properly. General Barone rode slowly down the line for inspection. Once he had finished, he nodded approvingly and the bugle sounded a third time to begin the march.

They rode for hours across the lush green fields of Aureum. Far ahead there was a dark, snowcapped line on the horizon that slowly grew over time, rising up like a curtain. From a distance, the Segen Mountains seemed an impenetrable wall of rock topped with a blanket of snow and ice. But as they drew closer, Sebastian could see the outline of the man-made valley called Hardsong Pass. The bulk of the infantry stretched before him, so he was still some ways from the pass, but he could see the top, its clean edges a stark contrast to the surrounding jagged and irregular peaks. It looked as though a mighty blade wielded by a giant had simply sliced out a section of mountain.

“How did they make Hardsong Pass?” Sebastian asked Marcello.

“I think it was a combination of Raízian magic, Aureumian engineering, and some apothecary art that can create explosive black powder.”

“Really?” Sebastian thought back to the fiery signal the Uaine had launched into the sky when they attacked Gogoleth. Vittorio had said they were a Raízian invention. “Like fireworks?”

“Oh, you have them up in Izmoroz, too?” asked Marcello.

“Not really. I’ve only seen it once, and it was used to signal the start of an assault, not to carve a mountain.”

The closer they got to Hardsong, the more unnatural it looked. Unnatural and, Sebastian thought, not particularly safe. The passage was too narrow for the infantry to march in their usual formation, so they had to funnel down to only five across, stretching the entire battalion out to twice its usual length. Even then, there was precious little room for maneuvering, with only a few feet on either side. And according to Marcello, the pass was several miles long.

Since it was already growing dark, Barone decided they should make camp and begin the crossing the follow morning. Once he’d finished his duties, Sebastian took his plate of rations out into the cool evening air to contemplate the strange edifice while he ate.

In a way, it gave him an odd sort of comfort. This achievement was on par with something that his elemental magic could accomplish. It was unexpectedly reassuring to see proof that he was not the only one with such uncanny power at his disposal. But there was another feeling as well. When he looked upon the cleaved mountain, he was reminded of what he had done to Pustoy Plains and felt a quiet unease. It was clumsy, brutish, and arrogant. Above all, it was against nature.

The next morning did little to quiet his unease. There was an anxious wait as the front of the line slowly filed into the man-made gap. His apprehension did not lessen when it was his turn to enter. The sheer rock rose up on either side so high that it blocked out the sun entirely. The sky became nothing but a strip of blue far above, and it was so dark, they had to light torches at regular intervals along the line so that the soldiers could keep watch for uneven footing.

Sebastian’s gaze followed the unnaturally flat cliff face up to the sharp, right-angled edge at the top.

“Perfect place for an ambush,” he muttered, more to himself than anything.

“But who could get up that high?” pointed out Marcello.

“True,” admitted Sebastian. Scaling these sheer walls would have been impossible. To properly set an ambush, a group of hardy mountaineers would have to have climbed up the outside of the mountain well before the range had come into view of the imperial army. They would then have had to survive the brutal winds, freezing temperatures, and thin air at the peak of the mountains, staying completely out of sight for well over a day. He wasn’t sure anyone could survive such harsh conditions.

The hours seemed to drag even more slowly in the pass, partly because there was nothing to look at, and partly because Sebastian couldn’t shake the vague feeling of unease. It was difficult to say how long they’d been at it. Since the only visible sky was directly overhead, all he could say for certain was that it was still before noon because he hadn’t yet seen the sun.

Then the line came to an abrupt halt. They’d been plodding along in the dim lighting with nothing to see for so long that several soldiers were caught unawares and bumped into the man in front of them. A chorus of grumbled curses went up for a moment before the captains silenced them.

“What’s going on?” asked Marcello, standing up in his saddle as he tried in vain to see the front of the line.

Then a soldier came running up the narrow gap along the side. His face was flushed with exertion as he sprinted past.

“He’s probably heading for the general,” said Marcello. “I better go see if I’m needed.”

He awkwardly wheeled his horse around in the confined space, and followed.

Sebastian waited with the rest of the soldiers. He noticed that many of them were also glancing nervously up at the cliff edges far above, probably assuring themselves with the same reasoning he’d used. Somehow it didn’t quite put the worry to rest for any of them.

A short while later, General Barone, followed by his personal bodyguards and Marcello, rode along the line. He stopped when he reached Sebastian.

“Captain Portinari.” His expression was grave.

“Sir!” Sebastian saluted sharply.

“Follow, please. I may have need of you.”

“Yes, sir!”

Sebastian fell in behind Marcello, hoping his friend would give him some clue what lay ahead. But Marcello did not turn back to look at him and remained silent.

They rode past the engineers, the Viajero, and hundreds of infantry, all standing at attention, to the very front of the army. There Sebastian was finally able to see what had caused the army to stop.

The pass was blocked.

They had almost reached the end. Sprawling, dark green meadows were maddeningly within sight. But to reach them, the entire army would have to climb ten feet of rock debris that had somehow been piled up before them. Perhaps the men themselves could do it, but only if they abandoned the horses and wagons that contained the vital medicine and supplies so desperately needed by the main force.

“How could this have happened?” murmured Marcello. “Magic of some kind, sir?”

“It’s possible,” replied Barone. “Our intelligence on Kantesian magic is sketchy at best.”

It looked to Sebastian like a contained avalanche. His eyes followed the cliff up. Near the top he thought he could just make out what appeared to be three parallel grooves cut into the rock.

“General, do you see that?” He pointed.

Barone took out his telescoping spyglass and looked at it for a moment. “Dear God, it looks like claw marks.” He aimed his glass on the opposing cliff. “And on both sides.”

“A beast did this?” Marcello’s eyes widened. “From up there?”

Then they heard an ominous rumble at the rear of the line. It sounded like thunder, but too close and far too drawn out. It was accompanied by shouts of surprise that quickly turned to fear and pain. Sebastian watched with horror as the line rippled toward them, as if soldiers in the back were pushing forward despite the fact that there was no room to do so.

“We’ve just been hemmed in,” Barone said grimly. Then he shouted. “Shields up! Watch for falling rock!”

“Are we under attack?” Marcello’s voice sounded strained.

The soldiers shifted around so the shield bearers could cover the others with their massive iron-bound shields. Sebastian grasped the gem that hung from his neck and scanned the edges of the cliffs.

He heard a strange groan and hiss coming from the southern cliff. When he looked in that direction, all he could see was an ominous cloud of vapor hovering along the edge. Within that cloud he could just make out two immense eyes that glowed an eerie and unnatural magenta.

“A monster!” shouted one of the soldiers and the line began to shift.

“Steady, damn you!” roared Barone. “Archers at the ready! Fire on my mark!”

“Sebastian, can it really be a monster?” whispered Marcello.

Before he could reply, Barone snapped, “Portinari! Can you do anything?”

“I’ll try, sir!”

Sebastian wasn’t sure what he could do, mainly because he couldn’t really see it. He tried to feel the fluids inside it, as he’d done with the miners. Yet perhaps his limited sight prevented him from doing that, because what he felt didn’t make sense. He perceived boiling water, which certainly accounted for the steam, a great deal of metal, and some sort of… presence. It didn’t feel like a living thing exactly. Nor was it like one of the Uaine undead. It was something he had never encountered before.

“Archers, fire!” Barone commanded.

The archers let loose with a volley into the cloud, but the glowing eyes didn’t react in any way.

“Portinari!” yelled Barone. “Anything?”

Sebastian considered a moment. He couldn’t do anything to the creature directly, but he could control the air around it. Perhaps if he cleared the cloud, he could see it better and find a way to attack it.

“I think there’s something I could try…,” he said.

The monster hissed again as a massive, shining claw emerged from the cloud and began to carve out another chunk of rock directly above them. Small bits of rubble rained down on the soldiers.

“Do it now, Portinari!” said Barone. “Before we’re all buried alive!”

“Yes, sir!”

Sebastian desperately gathered up the air around them and flung it straight up the narrow chasm. Not only did it clear the steam, but it also sent the creature hurtling through the air. Sebastian hadn’t expected something so large to be so light. It was out of view before anyone had even gotten a good look at it, which was a mixed blessing. They were safe for now, but still had no clear idea what had just tried to ambush them.

“Wh-what just happened?” asked Marcello.

But the general ignored him, his eyes fixed on Sebastian. “Good work, Captain. But we’ve got another problem. If the Kantesians command monsters, they might be mounting an attack on our main forces as we speak. This could all be a delaying tactic to prevent us from reinforcing them.”

“Yes, sir,” said Sebastian.

Barone eyed the wall of rocks blocking their path. “It would take the rest of the day for our engineer corps to clear this out. And for all we know, a single day might make the difference between life or death for our men in Kleiner.”

“Understood, sir,” said Sebastian. “I’ll clear it at once.”

“Sebastian, what are you talking about?” Marcello asked plaintively.

“Patience, Oreste,” said Barone. “Just watch.”

Sebastian gripped his gem and looked carefully at the pile of rock in front of them. Even gale-force winds wouldn’t make it budge. He could simply melt it all down, he supposed, but that would be a lot of lava to move, and they were packed in so tight that if he lost control of it, he would endanger himself and everyone else. But perhaps he didn’t need to move it so much as reshape it…

“Apologies in advance, sir,” he said to Barone. “The weather is about to get rather unpleasant.”

“I appreciate the warning, Captain,” said Barone.

Sebastian gripped the diamond and began to construct the sequence of events in his mind. He had never tried to use three elements at once before, so he would need to do this with great care.

First he gathered clouds above them. Dense, black clouds that turned the dim light in the pass to absolute night. Next he heated the rocks until they began to glow orange and soften. As the pile continued to sag, threatening to spill toward them, he brought the wind, funneling it through the pass so that it pressed on melting rock. It gave way slowly, grudgingly until it was almost like a ramp leading toward the pass’s exit. Then Sebastian shifted the temperature so that the storm clouds above began to spit first rain, then hail. The glowing orange sludge hissed spitefully as the ice pellets struck, cooling the top layer so that it lay more heavily on the lava beneath, pushing it further into the shape of a ramp.

He continued to alternately heat and cool the rocks in this way until he had formed a fully functional ramp over the debris. Only then did he finally let the winds stop.

He stood for a moment to appreciate his handiwork. Then the world seemed to spin and he lost his balance. He hit the ground hard, pain barking up his elbow. A moment later, hands lifted him into a sitting position.

“Portinari, what in God’s name was that?” Marcello asked excitedly. “That was all you?”

Sebastian was too tired to speak, but he grinned at his friend, basking in their shared pride.

“Didn’t you know, Oreste?” Barone asked cheerfully. “We have the world’s most powerful wizard in our ranks.”

Even the title wizard, which Sebastian had boasted of himself not so long ago, was now enough to rein in his euphoria. His smile faded and he forced himself to stand without aid.

“It’s nothing, sir.”

“On the contrary, Captain. It’s possible you have just saved the lives of every soldier currently stationed in Kleiner. I would not call that nothing.”

Sebastian looked at him for a moment. “True, sir.”

Barone nodded. “Consider this, Captain. No matter our past mistakes, as long as we persist, there will always be opportunities for atonement. But it is up to you to seize them.”

The empress had likely relayed Sebastian’s own past mistakes to the general. So Barone knew the terrible things he had done, yet unlike the empress and Vittorio, he was not excusing those actions. He was instead offering a way forward. A road that would likely be long and hard, but might one day lead to redemption. And perhaps for now, that was all Sebastian needed.

“I understand, sir. And… thank you.”