wrist. The burned hand sprang free and spun through the air. I followed it. There was no sense hacking at a corpse and the undead had begun to move. The hand landed by the window and I was aware as I snatched it up that the courtyard below was a maelstrom of activity. Snagging the desiccated hand I looked down, stepped up and taking in the chaos outside in a glance, still moving forward. Hundreds of citizens of the town had taken up arms and stormed the building, overwhelming the barbarians who opposed them.
“Out!” I shouted the word only once, sure that what I did next would attract attention even if my shout did not.
Still moving, body tensed, I hurled myself at the window. It shattered and I fell.
I hoped, in the brief moment I had free, that none of the shards of glass was so big as to impale me when I landed. Glass fell with me and I twisted in the air, trying to land on my feet. It was not a long drop, less than twelve feet, but it still knocked the wind out of me when I hit the hard paves, glass raining down with me. I rolled at once to my feet, slightly doubled over as I struggled to breathe. It wasn't happening. I was cut but nothing hurt too badly. There was some pain and I saw one fair sized shard sticking out of my arm. I would have yanked it free but I had a sword in one hand and a hand in the other. I cursed myself, still heaving for air, when I realized that I had jumped through the window with a sword in my hand. Sharp as glass and far more deadly. Moving slowly, I crabbed away, turning round once as I did so and straightening painfully. Several townsmen were moving toward me, holding a variety of weapons. I held up the desiccated hand and croaked something that sounded like nothing but was intended, for some reason, to be “it's me,” as though they would know who I was. I dropped the sword and they hesitated. Good enough. Unceremoniously I ripped the ten carat ring off the dry finger and pushed it home on mine. Touching the stone I quickly harmonized with it. Now it was mine and I felt on firmer ground. Also, I was getting my wind back.
Covered in blood, Sapphire landed between me and my hostile allies, rolled effortlessly and came to his feet. He was covered in blood and I saw it pulsing from a wound in his arm. Taken aback, the townsmen froze and now I could talk.
“I am Sumto Merian Ichatha Cerulian, patron of the city! This is my servant, Sapphire. Now dress his wound!” So saying I turned away with all the inborn arrogance of my kind and looked up at the broken window. Meran had his back to the window and was swinging his blade this way and that with silent desperation. “Jump, dammit!” I commanded him and he obeyed, stepping backward and launching himself awkwardly into space. He landed badly and I heard something break. I helped him to his feet, he nodded and grimaced with the pain, keeping one foot off the ground. “Leg,” he said, succinctly.
“Pity we should run then, isn't it?” I looked up, picking men from the crowd. “You and you, carry him out of here!”
I turned again and came face to face with Sapphire, tying off a tight binding to stop the blood flowing. He wasn't paying any attention to that though, his eyes locked on mine as cold as ever I had seen them. “Look, I like you, so I'm not going to kill you, but don't ever call me your servant again, okay?”
I nodded once. It was a fact he was stating, nothing more or less, and so deserved to be acknowledged as such.
“Jocasta,” it didn't exactly follow his train of thought but he accepted it. “She must be inside.”
91
The courtyard was filled with milling townsmen, upwards of three hundred of them, some wounded and some tending the wounded; others looting bodies and many carrying booty out of the buildings that surrounded the courtyard on three sides. Two areas were little more than rubble and I guessed that the massive concussions I had heard from inside the audience chamber were responsible. Jocasta must have taken them down. There were also two archways that led elsewhere; I didn't waste much time on them as I dodged my way through the throng, Sapphire with me.
We moved as fast as we could; no one got in our way but most were about their own tasks and unaware of us unless we actually barged into them or passed so close in front of them that they reacted. Most moved fast and away from us when they saw us coming. I guess we looked like we meant business.
Just as we hit the bottom of the steps Jocasta and Dubaku appeared at the top. She stumbled but didn't fall, looking straight at me as she came forward, her expression puzzled. “No,” I used the word as flat denial of what I knew was true. Something had hit her, just at the moment she walked through the doorway. She began to fall. I bounded up the steps, putting everything I had into the effort but I was way too far away and far too slow. She fell to her knees, catching herself with her hands out in front of her, hair spreading like a mask over her face. Something small and black seemed to be resting on her back, stark against the cream colored cloth of the shirt she wore and I knew it was a crossbow flight, I knew it long before I was close enough to see it clearly. “No.”
Dubaku was at her side, one hand stark black against the cream shirt as he gripped her arm. He saw the bolt. Looked back through the doorway. Pointed with his other hand and said something low and intense that I didn't catch. I was only peripherally aware of him. All my attention was on Jocasta and the tufted end of the quarrel sticking out of her back. I fell to my knees on the steps before her, pushed back her hair tenderly and gently lifted her head so that I could see her eyes; they were dull and unaware. I glanced up and met Dubaku's gaze. Expressionless as always. “Help her,” I begged him.
“The arrow has to come out. The lady cannot heal around it.”
I looked back at the tuft of the quarrel, all that was showing. Imagined gripping it, which would be hard enough, and pulling it out; imagined the damage it would do her and shook my head. It would kill her for sure and I said so.
“Then she will die, Sumto. The lady cannot heal around it, and even then she may die. The lady's powers are limited.” I knew why he didn't use the lady's name; to name her was to call her. “And she may not come. Sometimes they do not answer.”
“Sumto,” Sapphire was suddenly kneeling at my side, or maybe I just became aware of him when he spoke. I looked at him, followed his jerked gaze back into the building. There was no one in sight; no one living. But in the distance I could hear sounds of conflict, and they were getting louder. I shook my head.
“Listen,” he hissed, turning his head. I did, and I heard it. From the city, a roar of voices raised in anger. “It isn't over. We should go. All we can do here we have done.”
“What? And leave her?”
“No. But what must be done must be done.” Slowly, as though afraid of startling me, he reached out and with extreme care gripped the end of the quarrel. “I can pull it free very fast.” he looked up and met Dubaku's eyes. “Are you ready?”
“No!” I reared slightly and reached for his arm. Jocasta was beginning to pant, her body trembling in shock. I could smell fresh urine. She was dying, was seconds away from dying.
“Don't touch me, you will hurt her. There is no choice, Sumto, and no time to pretend there might be one. We do this now or she dies. If we don't do this now she dies.”
I nodded once, a spastic jerk that took every ounce of control I had.
“Ready?”
“Ichalda, t'k'la,” he said. “Now.”
Sapphire moved. Jocasta cried out. And Ichalda answered her cry with the embrace of a mother comforting her child.
92
I carried her through the crowds myself. I got as far as the gate before I had to pass her to Sapphire. I'd lost count of how long it had been since the abuse to my body had started. Too long to leave much strength in it. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't carry her any longer. My arms were covered in blood and I let them drop to my sides, holding Sapphire's cold eyes with my own. He nodded gravely, accepting my burden.
