“Put the knife down,” Kevin ordered.
Merrin sneered and pressed the blade into Glenn’s throat. But before it could break her skin, Kevin rushed toward them. Merrin turned, knife in hand, but Kevin was faster, driving his blade into the thick of the older man’s stomach. Merrin cried out and crumpled to the dirt floor of the foundry. A pool of blood grew beneath him.
The sword slipped from Kevin’s hands as he fell backward,
crashing to the floor. His face was pale and drawn, no different from Aamon’s as he stood in that river, the horror of what he had done dawning on him. Glenn stepped over Merrin’s body and knelt beside Kevin. She wished she could say something to him, tell him he had no choice, but she knew it wouldn’t make any difference.
“We should go,” Glenn said quietly. “Now.”
Kevin’s body jerked as if he was waking from a dream. He stood and turned to the glowing ovens. “We can still use it,” he said, almost to himself. “We don’t have to destroy it. We can — ”
Glenn pulled at his hand. “There’s no time for that. We have to go.”
Kevin’s hand stiffened as he drew away from her. “No time? You came here to …” Kevin’s eyes went sharp as he trailed off. “You weren’t coming here to destroy it.”
“Kevin — ”
“What were you going to do?” His voice rose. Glenn backed
away from him as he came at her. “You were going to give it to him?
To Sturges?”
Glenn turned to run but Kevin grabbed her wrist. She cried out and tried to escape, but he was too strong. Her terror grew. Had the last vestige of Kevin Kapoor disappeared?
Kevin yanked Glenn toward him, and then, instead of taking the bracelet, he ripped opened his shirt and clamped her hand down on his side, covering it with his own. Beneath her fingers, Glenn could feel the heat of his skin and the long rough edges of his barely healed wound.
“You were going to give it to the man who did this?”
Glenn tried to tear her hand away, but Kevin kept it tight against his skin. Their eyes met.
“Kevin …” Glenn began, but was stopped by a deep boom from
somewhere outside. A second later the ground shook.
Kevin’s head cocked to one side. “What was that?”
There was a shrieking whistle overhead, then another boom. The whistle began to fill the foundry, growing louder by the second, turning into a scream. Something clicked in Glenn. She grabbed Kevin’s arm and pulled him toward the door at a run.
“Where are we going?”
“Just run!”
Glenn slammed through the front door with Kevin close behind.
The sound was deafening now. Glenn made for a building across the street. Its front door was open and she hoped it would be enough. Once they made it inside, Glenn threw both of them to the floor.
As soon as they landed, a series of explosions rocked the town, shooting tremors through the earth. All Glenn could see through the open door was an expanding wave of smoke and debris. A rain of bricks and shards of iron and glass and burning wood fell all around them.
As the smoke wave passed, Glenn saw that the foundry had been reduced to a pile of broken stone and wood and mangled iron. The fires from its shattered ovens had spread, setting the surrounding buildings aflame. There was a second’s pause and then another boom somewhere else in the town. More crashes followed with barely a pause, seemingly everywhere at once. Soon the air was filled with the sound of cracking wood and shattering glass and screams.
“What’s happening?” Kevin screamed over the din.
Glenn didn’t know. Some weapon of Garen Tom’s? Her mother’s?
Glenn looked up at a crackling sound and saw that the roof above them was burning.
“We’ve got to get out of here!”
Glenn took Kevin’s hand and dragged him out of the house and down an alley along the side of the building, nearly blind from the smoke. Glenn had no idea where they were going. She was guided by nothing but animal terror, falling face-first to the ground at each new crash, then forcing herself up again to run harder and faster.
The town was shrouded in thick gray smoke. As she ran, Glenn saw buildings that had been reduced to rubble and bodies fleeing in every direction. There was debris everywhere too, piles of brick and wood and here and there bodies lying on the road and on porches and hanging out of burning windows. The smell of it was overwhelming.
Glenn’s throat and lungs ached.
She didn’t know how long she ran but finally the smoke slowly began to clear. The road opened up ahead of her and she saw figures out in the gray. A group of ten or more — some standing, some holding others up, some slumped on the ground. At the center was a single hulking figure. As the smoke parted, she saw slate gray fur and then a snowy patch of white. Glenn ran and threw her arms around Aamon and he pulled her close. His face was swollen and streaked with blood and dust.
“What’s happening? What was that?”
“Did you do it?” Aamon asked. “Did you destroy it?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t.”
A crunching sound came from all around them, boots on the
gravel road. Glenn turned, and from every direction, bodies moved in the smoke. She couldn’t guess how many but they seemed to be everywhere, converging on them.
Kevin snatched a fallen sword off the ground. Aamon moved in front of Glenn, pulling a handful of others to their feet to form a tight ring around her. All of them were injured. Some could barely stand.
25
The bodies in the smoke stopped. The men and women circling her barely breathed. They lifted their swords and drew their bows and waited. Two of the figures ahead parted, and a slight form emerged from the gray.
Michael Sturges pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his rumpled suit and calmly cleaned his glasses.
“Glenn Morgan,” he said with a pleased smile. “I had the funniest feeling I’d see you again.”
A growl rose from deep in Aamon’s throat as he crouched down, claws out, ready to spring at him. Kevin and the others tensed, surging forward to meet the legions of red-armored agents surrounding Sturges.
There was a clatter of metal as they raised their weapons.
“No!”
Glenn pushed through the line surrounding her and out into the space between Aamon and Sturges.
“Glenn!” Kevin cried.
She stilled the tremors that moved through her body and then slowly held out her hand. The bracelet gleamed in the smoky air.
“No one else has to get hurt,” she said, pushing the words past a thick lump in her throat. “Please. You win. It’s yours.”
Sturges moved fast. Within minutes, his agents packed Glenn, Aamon, and Kevin into a horse-drawn wagon and they pulled out of Bethany, surrounded by a squad of soldiers. Glenn sat up front next to Sturges while Kevin and Aamon were in the back. Aamon had been hurt badly in his fight with Garen Tom and in the bombardment after.
His body was cut and swollen, but he still sat up tall, even though the effort to do it, and the rocking of the wagon, made him wince. Kevin was only a little better off, bruised and scraped and singed. He was slumped against the side of the wagon, blankly staring behind them.
Bethany was a smoking wreck. The fires were mostly out now
that nearly every building had been flattened or reduced to a few stubborn lengths of wood. Whether the
