Fortress Al-Mir

There were no more rays of gold for the remainder of the night.

The burn of smoke lingered in Arkk’s nose. They had managed to extinguish the fires but not before half the garrison burned to the ground. Any building in a narrow cone behind the main keep had been on fire at one point or another. Some multiple times, if Arkk or the others fighting the fires failed to fully extinguish the last embers. Residences, workshops, and storehouses beyond the garrison’s walls went up in flames as well. As soon as Arkk realized that one of the main granaries was on fire, he rushed straight to it, skipping past buildings in between.

The threshed corn stored within survived in part. The fire started at the top of the granary, burning down like it was a giant candlestick. Everything at the top was little more than ash at this point. The slate of ice capping the top was slowly melting from residual heat, dripping water into the parts that really should stay dry. At the moment, the citizens of Elmshadow were digging through the wreckage, salvaging and relocating what they could.

While he had made it to the threshed corn storage in time, the same couldn’t be said for all of Elmshadow’s food stores.

Two granaries filled with oats had not survived. A storehouse of smoked meats got a bit too smokey.

Elmshadow wasn’t going to starve this morning. There was enough food spread throughout the burg in personal larders or dry pits to survive for a few weeks. Losing the main storehouses and granaries was still going to be a death sentence for the burg.

Arkk was well aware that people were already leaving. Some already had—as soon as Evestani appeared on the horizon, a number of the more affluent merchants had departed eastward. Now, practically anyone with the means was evacuating. Farmers loaded up their carts. Some left on foot, packing a haversack and leaving everything else behind. Faith in White Company’s ability to stave off the siege crumbled as quickly as the keep.

No one had tried to stop anyone from leaving. It was pushing the problem onto other burgs but here and now, it meant fewer mouths to feed, fewer people to worry about getting hit by those golden arrows and becoming enemies, and fewer casualties if Evestani did make it through the walls.

Arkk sat on a bench inside the infirmary, left hand pressed to his forehead while his right hand rested on Agnete’s arm. Overusing the ice marble to extinguish the flames hadn’t come without cost. His fingers were numb. Not discolored or otherwise displaying signs of frostbite. Thankfully. But he could barely flex his fingers and couldn’t feel a thing besides a pulsing ache. The heat from Agnete soothed the ache.

He hadn’t slept. He was so exhausted. Even before this night, his sleep had been restless and intermittent. There was so much to do, so many preparations to make. So much going on.

Arkk didn’t know how to help anymore. Everything he did barely gave Evestani pause. Hawkwood had been completely routed by those golden arrows, forcing White Company to abandon a number of their supplies to Evestani. The mausoleums had stopped them for a time but Evestani worked out a countermeasure. He had stolen the boulder-dropping ritual and, potentially, destroyed Evestani’s leadership in the area. In turn, Evestani had taken out several Hawkwood’s men who had been in the upper keep. Agnete wasn’t awake yet. He didn’t know when she would wake or even if she would have the energy to fight once she did. All he knew through the employee link was that she was stable.

Even if he brought over all of Company Al-Mir, he didn’t know how they could possibly help. Vezta wasn’t omnipotent. Zullie and Savren were but two casters up against an entire army. Some orcs, a few gorgon, and the fresh recruits would just die on Evestani’s swords.

The Duke’s men would arrive shortly. Another day. They would bring with them men and spellcasters in far greater numbers than Arkk could field. At that point, proper counter-siege magics could commence, not just exhausted casters pouring every scrap of magic into a defensive array.

They could do something.

He couldn’t.

His ability to render assistance had hit its limit. There was nothing more he could do.

The thought was simultaneously freeing—a relief at realizing that nobody could possibly expect him to pull a miracle out of his ass—and disheartening all the same. It was clear that he couldn’t fight off a proper army. Why had he ever thought he could depose the Duke? Ultimate defensive and offensive object? More like a broken piece of crap that tethered him to one spot in the world.

The sound of sure-footed boots crossing the stone floor of the infirmary made Arkk open his eyes.

Agnete was hardly the only one present. Between bits of the keep flying through the city, the fires, and injuries accrued through recovery efforts, the infirmary was packed. Yet most footsteps were rushed or unsteady. Either healers moving through from one person to the next or discharged patients making their way to the exit. As such, it came as little surprise that the confident footsteps belonged to someone who was neither a healer nor one of the injured.

“Inquisitrix,” Arkk said, dropping his hands to his lap. The numb feeling swiftly returned to his fingers but he wasn’t willing to tie himself to Agnete if he suddenly needed to fling a lightning bolt. “I see you made it out unscathed. Not even a hair under your peaked cap looks out of place.”

The woman glowered, red eyes darting from him to Agnete and back. “Arkk. I’ve been looking for you. They told me you were helping around the burg.”

“I was. All the fires are extinguished so I decided to check in on my employees. Not much else I can do,” Arkk said with a smile he didn’t feel. “Give me a dozen of your types to fight and I’ll do it all day long. But this army? What the fuck am I supposed to do against ten thousand warriors, spellcasters, and whatever that golden-eyed abomination is?”

Astra folded her arms over her chest, tapped her boot against the floor, and raised one eyebrow. “You done?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Arkk sighed. “I was just about to head home and hope you people and the Duke’s men would handle everything. But let me guess, you’ve got some risky plan you need my help with for some reason? So what is it? We sneak in again, kill ten thousand soldiers in their sleep? Maybe you’ve got your own golden beams of light that will blast through their defenses to wipe out the army all at once? Or—”

“Tybalt is missing.”

Arkk blinked, stared at her face for any sign that she was joking, and then decided to laugh.

What else could he do?

Astra dropped one arm to her side while her other hand rested at her hip. She had a sword, he noted. A long rapier. Had she always worn that? “You find that amusing?”

“Not in the slightest,” Arkk said, still chuckling. He shook his head, slapping at his cheeks in an attempt to wake himself up and knock the smile off his face. “Let me guess, you think I had something to do with it because I poached Agnete from Vrox? Hate to break it to you, Inquisitrix, but I wouldn’t go near him under any circumstances. I remember when Hurtt and Jorgen tried their hands at carpentry. I’m pretty sure that table was more stable than your purifier after one of its legs fell off.”

Astra didn’t react to his story. She just stared a moment, fingers drumming on her hip. “Qwol and I lent our assistance following the incident. It wasn’t until a few hours ago that we realized Tybalt had disappeared at some point. Qwol is seeking revelation to locate him while I—”

“On his own?” Arkk asked.

“Revelation is best sought in private.”

“Do you want a dead chronicler? It sure sounds like you want a dead chronicler. I don’t know if you noticed but your purifier isn’t exactly fond of you.”

“The Binder is still on Tybalt’s wrists. He cannot remove them nor use his powers.”

“How well do they stop him from picking up a sword and jamming it through your stomach?”

“I have the utmost faith in Qwol’s combat abilities.”

Arkk wondered if she had functional eyes. Qwol was gaunt and thin to the point where a harsh breeze could fight him off. Then again, he was a chronicler. If he was anything like Greesom, he could probably pose a threat.

Letting the line of thought drop with a shrug, Arkk looked up to Inquisitrix Sylvara Astra and asked, “What do you want from me then? I don’t have your purifier. My own isn’t well at the moment and I would rather not leave her to wake up alone given what her last memories likely are. Burning down the infirmary in a panic is hardly going to help the war effort.”

One of the healers moving behind Astra jerked to a halt and shot an alarmed look in Arkk’s direction.

Arkk just gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Why even come to me?” Arkk continued. “Unless I have severely misread the room, your organization doesn’t particularly like me.”

“The Inquisition of the Light is not currently seeking conflict with you. I thought it best to inform you of the situation lest you believe we had something to do with sending him after you.”

“Me? Why would—” Arkk pinched his eyes shut and shook his head. “Never mind. Of course, he is coming for me. Why would I expect anything else?”

“I don’t mean he is targeting you directly, just that you may be an incidental target. I imagine I am his primary target. Yet I wished to ensure you are aware of the situation,” Astra said. Minutely adjusting her cap, she turned on her heel and started moving, only to pause as Arkk called after her.

“How likely is it that he finds someone else to remove his bracelets? Can other people remove them or is there some magic built in that only lets you take them off?”

Astra looked back over her shoulder, frowning for a moment. Arkk wasn’t sure if she was thinking about the question or trying to decide whether answering it betrayed some secret of the inquisitors. Whatever the cause for her hesitation, she eventually shook her head. “Only those capable of enacting miracles can remove them. Any member of the Abbey would note the inquisitorial eye and refuse to assist.”

“And what if he holds a knife to the throat of some abbess?”

“Then she should accept her death with dignity.” Astra turned away, speaking as she resumed walking. “Informing you was a courtesy. Rest assured, we will handle this.”

“Should,” Arkk grumbled, watching the woman’s back as she departed the infirmary. “Not would.”

Not that he thought someone should throw their life away over the mistakes of the inquisitors anyway. Still…

Arkk looked down at Agnete. While he would have liked to let her rest and recuperate after saving his and Hawkwood’s lives, a mad purifier on the loose was not the best time to be so vulnerable. That said, he also didn’t want to go up in flames the moment she opened her eyes. Keeping one hand in his pocket, hovering next to the icy marble there, he nudged her shoulder. His gentle motions turned a bit more rough as she failed to wake.

Standing, Arkk moved across the room and used a small cup to scoop up a bit of water from a basin. Water used to cleanse wounds. He didn’t take much, not wanting to deprive those who needed it. Moving to stand over Agnete, he frowned down at the faint glow deep within the recesses of her scars.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, upending the cup over her face. There wasn’t time to let her wake naturally with that other purifier on the loose.

The water did the trick. She flinched as it splashed against her face. Her eyes snapped open, glowing bright. The water droplets on her face and in her hair exploded into a cloud of steam. Arkk stumbled back but did not go for the ice marble despite the alarmed cries from those nearby.

There was no fire.

Agnete, hands pressed to her forehead, slowly sat upright. She didn’t notice or care about the loose blanket falling aside. Groaning, she leaned over the bed, planting her elbows on her knees as she heaved. For a moment, Arkk thought she was about to throw up. It never came. The heaving died down to steadier breathing, though she did not remove her hands from her eyes.

“I’m alive?” she whispered.

Arkk leaned down, hand on her shoulder. “Yes. Though you might not feel like it.”

“My eyes feel like I’ve been staring at the sun for too long again.”

“Again?” Arkk asked before shaking his head. “I wanted to let you rest as thanks for saving me and Hawkwood. It would be the least I could have done. Unfortunately, the Inquisitrix showed up.”

The muscles in Agnete’s shoulders tightened under her skin, tensioned.

“Not for you,” he quickly added. “Rather, it seems they lost their purifier somewhere. I didn’t want to leave you asleep with him running around.”

The strain in her scarred back slowly lessened. Agnete peeled her hands away from her eyes, blinking rapidly several times before staring up at him. The embers in her eyes were a bit hazier than normal. A bit dimmer, further recessed.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine. Just tired.”

“Well…” Arkk trailed off, glancing around. He sat down on the cot next to Agnete and dropped his voice. “I think it is time we get back to the fortress. I’ve already sent the orcs over. Half the burg has already evacuated. The other half probably won’t be far behind. The Duke’s men will be here before long. I don’t know what else we’re supposed to do to help. Better we prepare.”

“I understand. My flames feel distant and weak. I am not sure how much assistance I would provide.”

Arkk nodded his head. That sealed it. If even Agnete was calling it quits, he really couldn’t do anything more here. At most, he would be just a magical anchor for a ritual. Hawkwood’s plans for a counterattack ritual were buried under the rubble of the keep. Arkk could assemble the boulder drop ritual and help cast that until Hawkwood’s other spellcasters had exhausted themselves. However, a defensive barrier had gone up around most of the Evestani army—they knew they were missing their ritual circle and had taken precautions against it being used on them.

At this point, Hawkwood planned to hold out for the Duke’s men, keeping round-the-clock spellcasters at his own defensive ritual. Hopefully, the reinforcements would be able to break the siege or at least provide some way of counter-attacking.

But that golden ray had gone straight through the defenses to hit the keep. They hadn’t used it a second time. Yet. Arkk had a feeling that next time, it would be aimed lower, intending to wipe out as many of the forces stationed in the burg as possible.

Arkk didn’t want to think that he was running away. He had tried. He had run out in the middle of their army to sabotage them. It wasn’t cowardice. It was pragmatism.

“Help me up.”

Arkk’s eyebrows crept up his forehead at the request. Rather than comment, he just leaned over, letting Agnete swing an arm over his shoulders. Dragging the blanket up and around herself, Agnete used Arkk as a crutch as they made their way out of the infirmary.

The area around the keep was cordoned off. Bits of it kept falling off, often knocking into other parts of the keep—or even other buildings. Even though only the top of it had been struck by that ray, enough of the top had collapsed in on itself to make the entire place unstable. It had been designed to hold its weight on its walls, not on the floors or ceilings.

The guards still let Arkk pass without complaint. Enough of White Company knew him. Or maybe they just didn’t want to mess with a pair of people with glowing eyes. Either way, he helped Agnete down into the cellar—which had thankfully not yet collapsed—and onto the ritual circle hidden within.

“I’ll be following shortly,” Arkk said, stepping outside the circle. “Just going to inform Hawkwood.”

Agnete closed her eyes, hunched somewhat as she stood on her own, and nodded her head. She didn’t say anything else. It didn’t look like she had the energy to say anything.

With a flash of magic, he sent her on her way.

With that, it was just Arkk and the lesser servant hanging in the corner of the cellar. Everyone else from Fortress Al-Mir was either back at the fortress or on their way.

Arkk headed back up the cellar stairs. Hawkwood wasn’t an employee, so he couldn’t instantly locate the man. At this point, Arkk guessed that he would be back at the outer wall, keeping an eye on the enemy.

Just as Arkk reached the inner keep wall, he heard it. A strange rising whine, long and drawn out. The same sound that he had heard when the purifier used his inverted spheres.

Arkk’s heart skipped a beat, fearing the noise was aimed at him. Yet he saw no sign of Tybalt’s magic anywhere near him. As the drawn-out whine grew in intensity, he saw the top of a black bubble crest the roof of a nearby building, far in the distance.

The crescendo ceased as the bubble collapsed, sending out a low, vibrating thrum that struck Arkk inside his chest. The deep tone did not stop him from rushing forward, dashing through the burg toward where he had seen the bubble form.

Coming out from between two homes, Arkk skidded to a stop in the dirt streets. He could see the Evestani army in the far distance, well across the empty fields around Elmshadow. Closer, a deep divot in the land cut into the outer wall of the burg, leaving an empty gap half the size of the keep. Guards, both on the wall and gathered around the edge of the divot, started shouting alarms.

A second higher-pitched whine started. A sphere that turned the gray clouds black and the dark stone of the wall white started forming at the next segment of the wall. Guards atop it ran in either direction, trying to escape it as it slowly formed. Some jumped off, landing hard in their heavy armor. One, in shock, just sat and stared as the bubble enveloped him.

Arkk tore his eyes away from the wall and the bubble forming around it. His eyes scanned along the street until he spotted a man with his hand outstretched, wearing a heavy cloak. If the outstretched hand wasn’t enough, the wide grin peaking out from the cloak’s hood sealed the man’s identity.

“Electro Deus,” Arkk shouted. Lightning gathered at his fingers, magic given form in electrical plasma. Stretching out his hand, arced the lightning, sending a powerful bolt straight at the mad purifier.

Unaware of the incoming attack, Tybalt offered no resistance or defense. The man flew backward with smoke trailing out from under his cloak, his cry drowned out by the sudden thunderclap that followed. The inverted bubble collapsed in on itself, taking with it a smaller segment of the wall.

A second bolt of lightning followed the first, sending the downed man’s body into a heavy seizure. He shook and trembled, cloak igniting from the power. When Arkk finally released the magic, Tybalt went still. Arkk couldn’t say if he was dead or not. That had been possibly the second most powerful lightning spell he had ever unleashed. The golden-eyed boy had survived the night before, however, so he wasn’t willing to make assumptions when someone with glowing eyes was around.

Keeping his focus on the downed body, Arkk glanced at the wall.

Two whole segments were just gone. Guards panicked. The city, already without morale from the golden ray, wouldn’t be able to repair the damage in short order.

Evestani had already noticed.