“They don’t have to deal with them. All they have to do is open the gate,” I heard behind me and turned around to face Tayrel Kan. He didn’t bother with binoculars, but his eyes gleamed and I knew he cast his own spell.
“How are they doing there?” asked Myar Mal. Spying spell then? Like the one they had cast on me when they sent me inside?
“Not well, kar-vessár,” replied the sorcerer. “I think they could use some help.”
Myar Mal nodded and gestured to one of the vessár-ai. “Kiarn At, deploy kites.”
“Yes, Myar Mal.”
Immediately, dozens of kites took off behind us, probably awaiting telepathic order since the very beginning. They glided toward the mansion and stopped just above the outer walls. Now, even without the binoculars, I saw green and blue beams shooting down. And then the explosion.
On the wrong side.
“Fuck!” yelled Myar Mal.
I glanced aside to see his face twisted with anger, teeth bared, hands clenched on the binoculars so hard, his knuckles turned white. The explosion was small, but the shock-wave also toppled over two other machines apart from the one it hit, and their riders fell, most likely to their deaths.
“Tarvissian magical weapons in action,” remarked Tayrel Kan with almost clinical interest.
“You said the only magical weapon they have are crystal balls.” Kar-vessár glared at me with anger, and I flinched involuntarily.
“That’s all I saw,” I confirmed, confident in my report yet still feeling a pang of guilt.
“Care to explain how the fuck they got them so high?” he screamed, waving his hand toward the mansion. Two more kites fell, and others scattered around like a flock of birds.
“I don’t know, Myar Mal.” A far-fetched idea came to my mind and before I could think better I sputtered, “they may be using slings.”
“What?”
His face showed no sign of comprehension. No wonder, I scolded myself, he probably spent his entire childhood inside the City.
“A piece of rope with a leather pouch used to throw small, round projectiles. Like magic crystals. Though it’s not usually a nobles’ weapon…”
“Whose weapon is it then?”
“Well… children, mostly. We used it for hunting raishook back in Nes Peridion.”
He was still glaring at me, and even with my shitty emotion reading skills, I could tell he was not impressed. “And can it throw a projectile that high?”
“Well, once I shot a rock through the sky-dome. It was closer to the edge, though.”
“I’m not interested in your bragging, Aldait Han, yes or no?”
“Yes, Myar Mal.” I dropped my head. “Sorry.”
“Fuck!”
In the meantime, the Dahlsi aerial forces were practically decimated. The last few riders tried to flee, but only a dozen or so made it to safety. And the gates still weren’t open.
“Do you want me to go?” asked Tayrel Kan. His voice sounded nonchalant, but he was stiff, with no trace of his usual ease, head high and eyes carefully fixed on the mansion as if to avoid looking at anyone.
Myar Mal gritted his teeth. His gaze had also been focused on the battle scene, but he didn’t answer straight away. What kind of spell made kar-vessár hesitate so much when we were all but defeated?
“Yeah,” said Myar Mal finally over his shoulder. “Go.”
Tayrel Kan nodded sharply, his face impenetrable—except now I was sure, the scars were deeper and redder than just a moment ago—and he scurried away. The last kites returned to the camp and were ushered to the ground. The clangor was still coming from the mansion, but it was dying down. I wondered how many of our people were still alive.
For a long moment, nothing else happened. I looked around discretely, trying to locate Tayrel Kan. The camp was awake now and buzzing with activity. Members of ten Cohorts lined up on their bikes, ready to charge. We, from Seventh, were to stay and defend the camp in case something went wrong. I wasn’t sure when that information appeared in my mind.
A rumble tore through the air and I saw a flare of light shoot from one of the tents. I looked up. The sun-gate was open now, not wider than a human’s arm, but all around it, the sky darkened, and I could make out strange shapes swirling outside.
Outside. They were going to pull matter from the Outside. The sudden revelation sent a shiver down my spine, I was not sure if from fear or awe. I knew Dahlsi were powerful—that Tayrel Kan was powerful—but this… this was rewriting the sheer fabric of reality. It was more than I thought possible.
A small rock fell at my feet. I stared at it, my mouth agape, as if it was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.
“We better take cover,” said Myar Mal.
I noticed a slight glittering of a magic shield. Just in time; seconds later we were hit by a downpour of rocks. But it was nothing, merely gravel. Bigger pieces, round, amorphous, and spear-like, were concentrated at the manor. I saw the red-tiled roof caving in and the mast with Tarvisian flag being knocked down. Finally, a wagon-sized boulder struck the gate and pushed it in.
A moment later, a stone javelin fell a few steps from us.
“Fuck!”
I snapped to the present. It wasn’t gravel hitting us now, but proper projectiles, some as big as my fist. The shield flickered under the assault.
“They’re diverting the spell.” A female’s voice came from behind Myar Mal. I recognized the woman who transferred my consciousness into the golem. I couldn’t remember her name. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Myar Mal, closer than I thought was appropriate, and if her crossed arms, slumped shoulders and wide eyes were anything to go by, it was the last
