I killed the three dragons and their riders by flying them straight into the ground. That left at least a dozen more. Commander Saige caught my body, which was sagging from exertion, as I dispelled dragon after dragon.
Ayrae and Ciera landed on a shroud nearby. Commander Saige helped me to disembark and I found that my legs could no longer hold me up. The right side of my face had gone stiff and I could only see out of a tiny part of my eye.
The sounds of collapsing buildings, howling children and screaming adults filled my mind. Smoke and shroud billowed around us. Despite his exhaustion, Ciera made his shroud move quickly through the air, overtaking the slow walking progress of the Tanzan escapees below.
Several deaths registered in my mind as shrouder skyearls, who had given all they had to defend the humans, folded their wings and fell limply to the ground.
Ciera moved off to rally the surviving shrouders and encourage them not to overdo it. If too many died, there would not be enough left alive to bear the burden of the Elonavé path. Like Raer, it would fall, taking all the humans with it. Those people who had Sleffion-kin rode aback their skyearls, but there were simply far too many people for the skyearls to ferry them all to Ravra in the same amount of time. Enabling 60,000 people to travel over ten leagues unhindered was no easy feat.
Swarms of dragons were flying around the significantly smaller Elonavé base shroud, like vultures looking for an easy place to strike. Green fires had sprouted all over Condii, including the fortress. The sentry towers had been abandoned and the last of the Defenders had retreated to defend the civilians on the Elonavé path.
I covered my ears as a deafening thundercrack erupted above and below us. The bolt of lightning struck somewhere near Condii Fortress leaving a jagged trail of orange sparks floating in mid-air. More thunder rumbled above us and the rolling black clouds finally disgorged their load.
One minute the air was clear and cold, filled with the sounds and smells of fire and destruction; the next it was blanketed with sheets of rain that drowned out all other sounds.
The wispy edges of the shrouds throughout Condii were quickly absorbed in the falling torrent and dissipated, leaving the more solid shroud stuff exposed.
The Zeikas flew in angry bunches, finally able to see more of what was going on. Although the shrouds had been cleared away by the rain, the rain itself blanketed the land in a grey miasma. The fires that had cut off some off the escapees slowly went out, allowing the final survivors to leap onto the Elonavé path.
The rectangular prism I had first perceived Elonavé to be had completely transformed; the structure was now almost fully rolled out. Only a small part of it remained over Condii City.
Dozens of Rada and their kin leapt onto the departing tail of Elonavé, having fended off the attacks of Zeika ground troops in the city streets. These were mainly in the form of lions, wolves, bears, tigers and dogs.
Drenched and cold, my physical pain paled in comparison to the guilt, sorrow and frustration that assaulted my spirit. Unable to put words to my anguish, I collapsed face-down on the shroud and contemplated death. What would the world be like under Zeika domination? Was all this part of the last battle that would end the world in fire? What were we meant to be doing with the Anzaii artefacts? It had all happened so quickly.
I must have lain there for a long time because when I woke, my body felt like a cold, wet plank. Stiff neck. Pins and needles in my left hand and forearm underneath me. I could hear the pattering of rain, but not feel it. I opened my left eye. Even that was painful. A broad egg had formed across my brow where Bal Harar had struck me. It pulled the flesh of my face taut, sending pain down as far as my neck. A dark green and blue ceiling lay between me and the world, like the top of a canvas shelter, but feathered. It took a few minutes for me to register it as my Sleffion-kin’s wing.
‘King Crystom…’ I stammered.
‘Killed by Bal Harar,’ Ciera reminded me. Sorrow enveloped me as the memory of his death came back to me. I saw his body rent limb from limb and his Sleffion-kin die as a result of noble King Crystom’s death. Against such might, how could we prevail? Against such manipulation and deception.
‘What became of Corypha?’ I queried, remembering the feel of my claws in his neck.
‘He is alive,’ Ciera replied, ‘ fortunately for you.’
I pondered for a time on whether I would be punished for injuring him so severely.
‘What hour is it?’ I queried.
‘Well past noon, soversday,’ Ciera replied.
‘The first day of Winter?’
‘Yes,’ Ciera agreed. ‘The battle continues, but with the help of the rain, we are resisting the Zeikas’ attacks.’
‘Enough of the army survives to defend us then?’ I asked.
The Emperor skyearl nodded, parting the flight feathers on his wing a little to let some fresh air and light into my cocoon. I pulled myself up to a sitting position, leaning heavily against Ciera’s flank. The material of my shirt had fused with the wounds on my sides, causing some to tear open again when I moved. The pain dizzied me. My hands lay flaccid by my sides.
‘Sarlice,’ I murmured, ‘where is she?’
‘Thita says they are still in transit, but they’re nearly out of Tanza now.’
‘Curse them,’ I swore. Then, ‘Rekala,’ I called. ‘Please say you are safe.’
The Jarian belt made reaching my Rada-kin easy. Once we had connected, it seemed as if she was not so far away. Rekala, Kestric and the survivors from Lantaid were in the chasm.
‘We are safe,’ she replied, ‘but Kestric is torn apart by his desire to return for Sarlice. He knows he cannot, but that doesn’t stop him fretting.’
Hopelessness welled in me. I wished we could mount a rescue, but I knew Ciera and I were both needed here. The Tanzan survivors’ most desperate hour was almost upon us.
‘I will go to her,’ I said, ‘ just as soon as this is over.’
‘Krii’s light be upon you,’ Rekala replied.
I sensed the approach of Amadeus and Tyba, with about five other skyearl-riders flying in escort.
‘How is he?’ Tyba asked Ciera, coming under the shelter of the great skyearl’s wing.
‘He is at the end of his strength,’ my Sleffion-kin replied. ‘There are no major injuries, but he needs some healing attention and rest.’
‘Get him a tincture,’ Amadeus suggested, perceiving the force of my pain.
One of the prince’s guards retrieved a small bottle of parn and handed it to me. Thirsty and hungry, I glanced at Ciera’s back. In all the mad rush, Ciera had thought to get somebody to attach my packs to his battle-seat. Not wanting to move too much, I gestured at a waterskin that hung within reach of the guard.
‘Where are Jett and Jaalta?’ I asked.
‘Ahead of the Elonavé line,’ Tyba replied. ‘The sick and injured are being carried by skyearls or on separate shrouds like this one.’
And the dead lay far behind us, too burdensome to carry along.
‘I’m sorry about the… your father,’ I croaked.
Tyba looked down, saying, ‘He was a fearless leader to the end.’
I drank a swig of the tincture and leaned back against my skyearl. Ciera’s calm loyalty flowed through the waves, comforting me despite all that had happened. No matter what, he would stick by me. An unspoken fear hovered in our minds; that I would be tried and expelled from the Tanzan army for harming a prisoner. Like any genuine Kriite nation, Tanza had strict rules about the treatment of prisoners of war. Either Tyba did not know about it yet or he chose not to speak of it.
‘See to him,’ Tyba said to one of the guards, who promptly brought a cloth and medical swabs to my side. With the help of another, he pulled me forward from Ciera’s side and removed my chainmail overcoat. Using the wet swabs and herbs, they gently pried my undershirt from my sides. Despite their care, the wounds broke and pain throbbed afresh. I swallowed some more of the tincture.
I wished Sarlice was here. If only I hadn’t told Corypha about her, or we hadn’t shared that embrace at the Dome of Gathering—perhaps the Zeikas would never have targeted her. If it came down to it, I decided I would gladly give my life to allow her to go free.
‘Yet, if you do,’ Tiaro argued, ‘you condemn countless Kriites to persecution and death. Using your wave-skills in a waverade artefact, the Bal could potentially track down every Kriite within six leagues.’
The guards fashioned a makeshift bed for me and rolled my cloak for a pillow. My neck ached from having been flung out on the flat surface of the shroud for most of the day. Lying there under Ciera’s wing, with the quiet drizzle of the rain, I fell into a sort of trance. The murmuring of the prince and his guards became a dull buzz.
Condii was overrun and tens of thousands more Zeikas were due to arrive there tomorrow, yet all I could think of was how I would get to Sarlice.
With the Zeikas’ head-start, it was impossible for me to stop them reaching Reltland. That was exactly where they wanted me, but not following meant a slow and painful death for Sarlice.
Despite everything we had been through, and everything we had strived for together, it wasn’t until we were parted that I learned a profound truth. I loved her. And like my father before me, I could not face the idea of losing the one I loved.
No matter where you go Sarlice, I will find you.
Chapter Thirty—The Escape
T
he scars on the palms of my hands ached. A reddish tinge had tainted the normal flesh around them. I tried to rub it off, but the spots remained. Maybe it was because of the cold of being high up in the sky for nearly three days—or it could also have been from clenching my fists tightly for so long.
Thita told me that Sarlice had been taken out of Tanza by her Zeika escort. They had landed outside the border and met up with another group of prisoners, mostly girls who had been chosen for their youth and good looks. Bal Harar met them, sneering when he saw Sarlice for the first time.
Thita hid in some trees nearby wishing he could assure Sarlice he was nearby. The wards the Zeikas had set on her prevented any wave communications. Thita promised me that as soon as an opportunity presented itself, he would fly in and help her to escape.
Helpless to assist them, I turned my thoughts back to the present. Many Tanzans were still dying in countless sky and shroud battles with the Zeikas. Although many thousands of Zeikas still pursued us, Tyba had asked Ciera to keep me away from the fighting. My Sleffion-kin flew without me, helping where he could.
I used the time Tyba and Ciera gave me to rest and to meditate with the spirit of Krii.
‘What have I done, great wolf?’ I asked him, not expecting an explicit answer. ‘Please forgive me.’
Small amounts of food and drink were brought to me every few hours. My wounds were bathed and redressed by people whose names I didn’t know. Names I didn’t want to know. My head was spinning and I wished to be back home in Jaria forest where I could find a log in a quiet glade or a cave to curl up in.
Even though I could walk around, I was not allowed to help in any way. Those on the shroud with me concentrated on their maps, sent messages via the waves, into Ravra and secluded parts of Tanza.
All across our great nation the evacuation was coming to an end. With groups of people exiting the realm in several places it would be many months before we all came together once more.
Floating over the river Jarvi where the ground-based Zeikas could not easily follow us, the snaking Elonavé path had come to a halt. The many shrouder skyearls who had guided it all this way, rested on the shrouds beneath it even as their brethren fought off scores of the most determined Zeikas and dragons. With so much rain still about, the green fire of the dragons was not as effective as it could have been. But their teeth and claws were still formidable weapons. I paced back and forth on my shroud, feeling that I should go and help the Tanzans who were fighting.
‘You can’t even see properly out of your right eye,’ Tiaro said to me.
‘I have to do something,’ I responded.
‘Just wait,’ Tiaro advised. ‘Remember your time with Damia and Annie in Tez after you burned your hands.’
‘When I first met you,’ I murmured.
‘Yes,’ the earring replied. ‘You knew then you could do nothing to help Rekala until your wounds had healed. Now is much the same. You must let others do their part.’
It seemed like a lifetime ago that I had been with Damia and Annie in Tez. If they were still alive, what would my father and mother’s old friends think of me now? True, I had advanced in skill to become one of the best Anzaii in Tanza. But at what cost?
What parts of myself had I left behind to do the things I had done… to face the things I had faced? Would anyone understand?
‘I understand,’ Ciera told me. ‘We have some tough times ahead of us, but whatever happens—I am with you.’
Tiaro’s agreement flowed around me, but there was little anyone could do to make me feel at peace today. I yawned and coughed moodily, looking out over the sun-seared shrouds beneath us. Rays of golden morning light penetrated the white mists, casting strange shadows. The magical appearance of sun-showers and rainbows in the sky were a stark contrast to the struggle and death still around us.
The people of Condii, Centan and Kovain trudged doggedly on beneath us. In some places, groups of them had stopped to rest. Where possible, these were picked up by skyearls and flown the rest of the way into Ravra.
I moved to the head of Ciera’s shroud and gazed at the cliffs of Tanza’s border. Thousands of almost-vertical lines decorated the rock face. These were shadows cast by the many channels that cut their way from the top of the cliff to the bottom. Leading up to the border were more karst towers like the ones around Condii City.
Condii City, that I would probably never see again. Despair threatened to overwhelm me but I was acutely aware of the presence of other humans nearby, glancing at me. Some had compassion in their eyes, others condemnation. The guilt was almost too much to bear—it was as if my attack on Corypha had undone everything good I had ever done for Tanza.