Alisia busied herself stroking glossy black hair with a nervous hand on the bench beside Grevail. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, resisting the urge to scratch at the burn on his arm. He’d worn his coat today to hide the injury, though it was warm. Luckily, the wound wasn’t as bad as he had feared, but that it was there at all was enough to make his hair stand on end. He didn’t want to think how it could have happened. He didn’t want to think about that damn relic. Soon, he would exchange it for his friends, and he’d never think about it again. If what Alisia said was true and Daryn helps free my friends, the first thing I’ll do is throw it in the river. Even so, that hopeful thought shared the inside of his skull with the scratching itch. It was always pulling at him now.

  Alisia nodded and a smile arched her delicate lips that seemed as if she meant it to be reassuring, but it did not hide the uncertainty brewing in her murky blue eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think it was possible, would I? This is it, Green. All Daryn has to do is read this letter,” she said, patting the pouch at her waist where she’d tucked the correspondence between Carbathe and Seirod.

  They sat in the white stone foyer of the Council House on a polished bench, awaiting an audience with the Khos. This entire scheme only made Grevail more nervous the further it went along. He didn’t know anything about Khos Daryn or how he might react to Alisia’s claims. They might both be thrown in the dungeon for wasting the man’s time, but Alisia insisted Seirod, Vaik, Carbathe, and even Erphele would be jailed instead. If that happened, she said, Grevail’s friends were good as free.

  A diminutive bald man in blue and white livery passed through the double doors nearby and fastened them with meticulous brown eyes, as if he were recording their every nuance down to the color of their clothes into memory. “I apologize, young lady, but I have been unable to reach Khos Lesabre about your request for a private audience. However, the council will convene shortly anyway. You may ask him then or air your issues in public. Come with me. You may wait in the Council Chamber until they arrive.”

  “Thank you, Bavin,” Alisia said and rose from the bench, pulling Grevail up by the arm.

  “No audience?” he asked. “Surely you don’t want this note read where everyone can hear—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Alisia whispered, glancing at Bavin’s back. “We have indisputable proof now. He just needs to read it.”

  Bavin led them through corridors Grevail found quite lavish; paintings and murals garnished walls of fine stone, while accents of marble graced pillars and lintels. Servants crisscrossed the hallways, busily going about their duties, and two of them in blue and white dresses appeared in the hallway ahead, talking in excited tones. The women quieted as they came near, smiling and ducking their heads at Bavin.

  “Spades?” one woman asked the other after passing Grevail and Alisia. “Here at the Council House?”

  Bavin twisted to frown at them.

  The other woman giggled. “Yes! They just arrived! I don’t think they’ve ever come to the Council House before! Someone said they had something to discuss with the Khos, but I have need of Didenudra like you would not believe, and there hasn’t been any in the markets—” whatever else she said was lost as the pair moved out of earshot.

  Bavin raised a curious eyebrow at their backs but did not stop heading deeper into the Council House, and eventually, Grevail and Alisia followed him into a wide hall at least a hundred paces across. The ceiling loomed three stories above and a grand staircase flanked by carved railing cascaded from a second floor. A desk covered in stacks of paper sat near a pair of large double doors at the other end of the room, but Bavin proceeded to an archway beneath the stairs, and inside a small, circular alcove there, opened a door.

  Down another hallway they arrived at yet another door, this one embossed with intricate geometric designs. Along the lintel read the words: Seek Justice All Who Enter. Bavin pushed the door open and they stepped into an impressive, round room of white marble. We must be in the bottom of the dome, Grevail realized. Steps descended from bench lined walls to a space at the bottom where several desks in a crescent formation surrounded a waist-high pillar as round as a man’s thigh.

  “Please, have a seat,” Bavin said, nodding toward the benches ringing the room.

  Two people were already here sitting together nearby; a bronzed man in a broad brimmed hat and a woman in a red dress. They watched Grevail and Alisia seat themselves, every footstep echoing under the dome. The ceiling arced above, perhaps another twenty paces from their heads.

  Grevail’s eyes fell to the desks and the pillar they surrounded. Owls with round and bulbous eyes were carved into the faces of the squared white pillar, worn smooth by time, and there was a notch in the top as if something was supposed to be placed there. “Is that the pillar of justice?” Grevail asked Alisia as they sat, remembering what Auphen told him.

  “Yes. It is important that we touch it while speaking to the council.”

  “Why?”

  “It is customary,” Alisia said as if it should be obvious. “Any who touch the pillar while addressing the council on Grievance Days will receive just treatment without fear of reprisal.”

  They sat in silence, listening to the echoing murmur of conversation between the bronzed man and his wife until a middle-aged man entered. He was balding, just a ring of short red hair remaining around the crown of his head. Blue-green eyes swept across Grevail and Alisia before he descended the steps and took a seat at one of the desks. Birds stitched in silver thread along the sleeves of the man’s red coat seemed fine enough to Grevail for a Khos.

  “I’m the first here?” he grumbled as he sat down.

  “Is that him?” Grevail whispered. Alisia waggled her head.

  A short time later, a young man with flowing, shoulder-length brown hair entered. The white doublet and black trousers he wore did not look befitting of a Khos, though the confidence in his step did. Quick brown eyes took in the people seated around the room before he too descended and approached the pillar. He took a seat at the desk in the middle of the crescent, then motioned at the bronzed man and his wife. “Bavin said you were here first. You may approach the pillar and speak.”

  The man and his wife stood and made their way down the steps. The man removed his hat, revealing a sun-burnt scalp, and stood beside the pillar with a hand atop it.

  “Carbathe isn’t here,” Grevail said to Alisia.

  She nodded. “Luck that he isn’t, but even if he were, he can’t deny what is in this letter, marked with his own seal.”

  “What is the issue?” Daryn asked the man and his wife.

  “I live near the north wall, Khos, by the Berry Gate. My neighbor, Phenton Hexoilan, has torn down part of my fence and built a small hovel he claims is to be used for storage.”

  “The dispute is that he has built on your property?” Daryn asked.

  “Yes, and he destroyed my fence, Khos. I have proof! If that wasn’t absurd enough, he has a cellar and it’s not even close to full. I know it isn’t! He could store plenty in there but he insists that I built the fence on his land.”

  “Did you ask him to come here today?”

  The man nodded vigorously. “I did! He said you would not give him a fair hearing, pillar or not. He has a purple rose hanging in the window of his house, if that means anything—”

  The man’s wife scowled. “He said he would come if you apologized for calling him a toad-faced coward, but you refused!”

  The man’s eyes bulged as he turned to her. “Not now, Oira!”

  Daryn sighed. “Do either of you have records?”

  “No, Khos,” the man said. “At least I don’t. Phenton might, but he refused to talk to me about that. This house has been in my family since the civil war! I will not allow him to take what is rightfully mine and—”

  The door slammed open, issuing a thundering echo under the dome. Carbathe stormed through—long purple cape wafting behind him.

  Daryn directed an angry scoff at him. “You’re late. The least you could do is not knock the door off the hinges.”

  A man stepped through the doorway behind Carbathe. His arms, hands, and indeed everything visible below his jawline was dark with tattoos—swirling patterns and symbols Grevail didn’t understand the meaning of. His head was shaved and a braided beard hung from his face. He wore a gambeson of gold and black and an axe dangled from his belt. This man was soon joined by another whose appearance and dress was the same…then another.

  “Urucan…” Alisia’s voice trembled.

  “What is this?” Daryn surged to his feet.

  “Carbathe!” The red headed man stood too, his face a thunderhead. “I’ll see you hang for this!”

  “I tried to reason with you, Daryn.” Carbathe’s lips turned in a smug grin. “Please don’t be a fool, Asimir,” he said to the red headed man. “This can happen peacefully.”

  The Urucan soldiers marched down the steps toward Daryn with the sound of creaking leather and whispering steel. Yet more Urucan streamed in, though a short bald man, obviously unlike the Urucan, was among them. Teral, Grevail knew.

  “Teral!” Daryn said, staring murder at the man.

  “Traitor!” Asimir growled.

  The bronzed man and his wife spun beside the pillar, clutching each other and staring at the Urucan in a state of open-mouth shock.

  “You may go,” Carbathe said, flicking his hand at the pair as he descended the stairs behind the Urucan.

  The woman ducked her head at the command and pulled her husband through the soldiers pouring into the room. The bronzed man’s neck twisted first this way, then that, gawking in disbelief at the bearded Urucan.

  “Alisia…” Grevail whispered and stood, pulling her up with him. He began moving after the man and his wife.

  “Not you!” Carbathe boomed and thrust a finger at them. An Urucan stepped into Grevail’s path, blocking the way with a bearded axe in his tattooed hands.

  Near the desks in the center of the room, another Urucan approached Daryn and moved to grab his arm.

  The Khos swatted away the soldier’s hand and threw a whirling punch, striking the man in the mouth. The Toad stumbled backward with a curse, slapping a hand to his face. Before anyone else could react, Asimir dove at the nearest Urucan with a roar like a charging lion, swinging fists.

  Like a horde of ants swarming over their prey, the Urucan rushed to the nobles, surrounding them in a roiling ball and piling on until the two were subdued beneath a mass of bodies. Daryn was hauled to his feet first. “You traitor!” he snarled at Carbathe through the hair streaming over his face. Blood ran down his chin from a split lip. “And you!” he said, spitting at Teral’s feet.

  For a moment, Teral’s eyes widened in what could have been horror, but then a grim scowl hardened his face.

  “Daryn,” Carbathe laughed, “don’t make this any worse for yourself.” He gestured at the Urucan. “Chain them and take them to the wagons!”

  The soldiers clapped chains on Daryn and Asimir, delivering a punch or kick when they wouldn’t cooperate.

  “Now, for you,” Carbathe said, turning icy blue eyes on Alisia.

  “He’s right,” Alisia said with a sneer. “You are a traitor! And I have the proof right here!” She ripped the note from her pouch and shook it in his face.

  Carbathe welcomed the accusation with a mocking grin. The man narrowed his eyes at Grevail for a moment, as if in recognition, but turned back to Alisia. “You are too late, annoying little fly. You’ve been buzzing around in many ears…whispering and conspiring. Perhaps it is time for me to finally swat you,” Carbathe said, fingering the hilt at his hip.

  Alisia met his eyes in show of defiance. “You can kill me, but the Delphines won’t be stopped. We’ll oppose you, just as we always have. You are a vile traitor!”

  Carbathe considered her. “I suppose it would be better to keep you alive. I know Aritane would hate to see any ill befall you, and he may well be a problem to deal with later.” Carbathe motioned at the pair of them. “Take them as well. The girl and her friend.”

  An Urucan soldier stalked forward with a length of rope stretched between his hands. Alisia gave the man a growl in her throat as he bound her hands. When the soldier finished with her, he did the same for Grevail.

  In short order, the Urucan marched them all out of the Council Chambers. Daryn and Asimir in front while Alisia and Grevail followed after, side by side and surrounded by the tattooed, bearded invaders. Grevail shimmied his arms covertly, trying to loosen the rope enough to slip his hands out. I won’t be held prisoner again—not while my friends need me. He remembered the relic was still in Alisia’s house underneath his bed. If Carbathe knew who Alisia was, he might send men to search her house. Grevail fought a growing panic that threatened to take control of his body in a wild escape attempt. If he lost that cube, he lost his only chance of seeing his friends again.

  Amidst the din of Carbathe’s self-congratulatory celebration, they exited from beneath the stairs and into the large hall. The stacks of paper on the desk Grevail saw earlier were now strewn across the floor all around it. Daryn became agitated at the sight and struggled against the Urucan clasping his arms. “Bavin! What have you done with him! Teral, tell me!” One of the men hauling Daryn along paused to ram a fist into his ribs. The Khos doubled over with a gasp, but the Urucan did not halt and pulled him along sagging between them.

  The soldiers towed Daryn through the double doors beside the desk, which led outside to a large paved courtyard surrounded by more buildings of the Council House complex. Hundreds of Urucan soldiers milled about among dozens of wagons scattered around the square. A spade was emblazoned on the side of every wagon and tarps were laying on the ground beside them. Grevail recalled the servant women’s words earlier about the Spades arriving at the Council House.

  He wiggled his wrists, loosening the rope even more until he thought he could get a hand out. It wasn’t the first time he’d been tied up. The Urucan who had done the tying hadn’t done it very well, but now that Grevail was looking over the sheer number of Urucan in the square, it seemed the binding was more of a symbolic gesture. He eyed the crowd for a path of escape but saw hardly so much as a hair’s width gap in the solid sea of Urucan packed around the Council House doors who turned to regard them.

  “Daryn!” Carbathe crowed as he entered the square and the soldiers broke into a raucous cheer. Carbathe guffawed and drew his sword, raising it over his head as if he’d just defeated Daryn in a duel. “He surrendered with hardly a fight!”

  Daryn and Asimir glared daggers at the Urucan, but no more than Alisia did. A familiar face appeared among the jubilant Urucan crowd. Seirod wove his way through the soldiers toward Carbathe.

  “We will see to any resistance in the city!” Carbathe exclaimed over the cheering Urucan, sheathing his blade.

  “About our agreement,” Seirod said to Carbathe as he came to stand beside the man.

  Carbathe nodded with a roll of his eyes. “I have important matters to attend, Seirod, but yes, of course…” he began as they moved away.

  Grevail and the others were led deeper into the crowd while Toads shouted curses and made obscene gestures at Daryn and Asimir. The throng parted to reveal a wagon, and the Urucan soldier leading them wasted no time grabbing Asimir by the elbow and ushering him toward it.

  Beside Grevail, Daryn watched it all with hard eyes, wrenching at the chains around his wrists. Grevail studied the square and the thick carpet of Urucan atop it. At one end, a walkway between two buildings drew his attention. It was suspended over a road he thought must lead to the highway in front of the Council House. He returned his gaze to the horses and the wagon, imagining how quickly it could reach the walkway. If all of these Urucan were not standing in front of it.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  He twisted his hands a bit more, careful not to draw attention to himself, until the rope was ready to drop away. He tried to slow his breathing, but looking at the forest of tattooed men circling them, he wondered if this would be the last thing he would ever do. I won’t be a prisoner any longer. Not one more day. If all those years slipping out of the watch’s grasp ever gave him anything, he needed it now. “I’m going to try and escape,” he whispered at Daryn.

  Daryn frowned at the rope around Grevail’s hands, then scanned the Urucan in the square. “How do you plan to do that?” he whispered back.

  The Toad had finished shoving Asimir into the wagon and was making his way back toward them, gray eyes on Daryn. The man’s axe hung loosely in a loop at his belt, swaying back and forth. “Just be ready to drive that wagon out of here when you see the chance,” Grevail said before the man reached them.

  The Urucan grabbed Daryn and pulled him away. “Come on, Eudan cretin! You’ll get no special treatment, dear Khos. No, no. I think you’ll cry and beg for your mother by the time we are done with you!”

  When Daryn was loaded into the wagon with Asimir, as Grevail hoped, the Toad came for Alisia next. While the Urucan hauled her away, the young woman exploded into a fury, throwing elbows and trying to bite him.

  “These Eudan girls are feisty! Just how I like them!” the bearded man said. His comrades broke into wild laughter, egging the man on while Alisia squirmed in his arms. Eventually, the soldier grew bored of the game and pulled Alisia off her feet, tossing her into the wagon like a sack. Asimir broke her fall, sparing a dangerous glare for the Urucan, but the soldier was already spinning away, centering his gaze on Grevail. The man looked down his nose with an amused sneer as he came close, reaching for Grevail’s arm.

  Grevail dropped the rope from his hands and ducked under the man’s outstretched hand, snatching the axe from his belt.

  The Urucan whirled, grabbing at his waist. A look of rage contorted his face and he sprang forward with a snarl.

  Grevail backed away, swinging the axe in a wide arc to ward off the avalanche of bearded men that surged toward him. Urucan walled him in from all directions, axes and daggers springing into tattooed hands. The few Toads who had been standing in front of the wagon now crept forward, brandishing weapons of their own with excited grins as if at the thought of using them.

  Grevail slashed at an Urucan who got to close, then swiped at another—nearly taking the man’s hand off. Beyond the wall of soldiers, Daryn tumbled head first into the driver’s seat of the wagon and snatched up the reins. The Urucan, unaware, closed in on Grevail.

  “Take him alive, fools!” a voice boomed over the square. “Take him alive or answer to Patalla.”

  The tattooed men lurched forward and Grevail spun in a circle, swinging the axe wildly, sometimes just a hair’s breadth from a throat. A hand gripped the back of his coat before jerking away with a curse when the axe came whirling.

  The encroaching Urucan grew more bold, coming closer and closer each time the axe cleared the air in front of their faces. Grevail waited for an opportunity, almost too long, but when it appeared he took it. Throwing himself into a roll, he tumbled between the legs of a surprised Toad, then scrambled on all fours between another pair of Urucan boots. He cleared the ring of bearded invaders and sprang to his feet beside the wagon. With the blunt of the axe, he smacked the nearest horse on the rear as hard as he could with a shout. The mount screamed and bolted in a jangle of harness, Daryn already whipping the reins. The wagon thundered forward, scattering the few Urucan left before it.

  Grevail dropped the axe and jumped at the sideboard, latching on as the wagon bounced over the cobbles. Alisia and Asimir were quickly there, grabbing his arms and hauling him over the side.

  “Slay my spirit!” Asimir cursed and turned from Grevail to kick a growling Urucan clinging to the wagon in the face. The man dropped from sight with a shout.

  Daryn whipped the reins and the wagon barreled through more surprised Urucan toward the north gate of the Council House. They raced below the suspended walkway, leaving the courtyard and most of the Urucan behind. Daryn pulled the horses onto a narrow, wagon-wide path that ran between a wall on one side and the Council House on the other.

  “I thought we were dead for sure!” Asimir shouted to be heard over the roar of the wagon and the clatter of hooves.

  “What now?” Alisia asked, lustrous hair streaming across her face.

  “We can’t stay in the city!” Asimir said. “We must go to the north gate!”

  “We’re not out of it yet!” Daryn replied, pointing.

  A knot of Urucan stood in the street ahead where it met the highway in front of the Council House. Beyond them, the road roiled with townsfolk and soldiers alike; a confusing mass of motion and sound. Shock flashed across bearded Urucan faces at the wagon bearing down on them and they hurried to toss themselves out of way. One man wasn’t quick enough and went beneath the horses with a scream that sent Grevail’s hackles rising. He was left as a bloody pile in the road behind them as the wagon rattled onto the highway.

  The streets surrounding the Council House writhed with chaos and the air was thick with panicked cries. Parents clutching children emptied their homes into wagons, while others merely peeked from windows and doorways with open mouths at the scene unfolding in front of their homes. Some Tamirrans recognized Daryn and made desperate pleas for help, but the Khos only yelled for them to flee as they sped by.

  Ahead, a ball of soldiers wearing Carbathe’s purple rose cleared a path through the throng with shouts and cudgels while being battered in return by the denouncements and projectiles of angry townspeople. The road was littered with debris around the purple and white clad men, but they pressed onward, occasionally lunging at a nearby assailant. Some townsfolk were supportive of the purple rose, however, and fights broke out in the crowd. Swirling masses of bodies came together, then dispersed just as quickly. Down one street, Grevail even glimpsed what he thought were bodies laying in the road.

  Daryn never slowed the wagon, forcing townspeople and Carbathe’s men alike to scatter from its path, but when the north gate finally came into view, the Khos growled a curse. The portcullis was closed. The thick line of Urucan guarding it snarled as rocks thrown by riotous villagers cracked against round orange and black shields. Daryn yanked on the reins and the wagon veered onto an adjoining street.

  “What are we going to do now?” Asimir asked.

  “The Berry Gate!” Daryn said, struggling to control the horses with the fetters around his wrists.

  Remembering he still had the pick, Grevail dug into his coat pocket for it.

  “They’ll be guarding that too!” Asimir said.

  “Do you have a better idea?” Daryn asked.

  Grevail crawled to the head of the speeding wagon, motioning at Daryn’s chains with the pick.

  Daryn obliged, half-turning so that Grevail could shove the thin piece of metal into the hole on a clasp. It was a difficult thing to manage while bouncing along, but after working it around some, the spring dislodged and the clasp fell into the driver’s seat with a clank.

  Daryn nodded his thanks when Grevail had done the other and jerked his head at Asimir. “Him next!”

  Grevail returned to the bed and worked to free Asimir, and when he had, they both then untied the rope around Alisia’s hands.

  The Berry Gate, located in the corner where the north and west wall met, appeared as they rounded a corner. A hysteric swarm of townspeople surrounded it, while a knot of Carbathe’s men with the purple rose on their chests helped bar the way with several tattooed Urucan among them. Even this small force was enough to block the way as effectively as a wall of steel because the Berry Gate was so small—enough for only one horseman to pass through at a time. The Urucan and Carbathe’s men moved not a hair from their positions in the face of the furious rabble before them.

  “Ash and embers!” Daryn said, pulling the reins and bringing them to a stop behind the scene around the Berry Gate.

  “We can fight our way out,” Asimir said. The older man jumped from the wagon as if to charge the gate by himself.

  “Not without a weapon you can’t,” Daryn hopped down and rushed to grab hold of him.

  “We’ll find weapons,” Asimir growled and ripped his shoulder from Daryn’s hand, scanning the area as if he might find just such a weapon laying nearby.

  “Come with me,” Alisia said as she dismounted. “You’ll get yourself killed trying to force your way through the gate, but I can hide you. We can get you out.”

  “Who are you?” Daryn asked, turning a searching look on her. “What was that parchment you shook in Carbathe’s face? You said you had proof—”

  “We don’t have time for an explanation of that. It’s too late anyway.” She met the Khos’ gaze, her voice adopting a prideful tone. “I’m Alisia. I lead Delphine’s Companions.”

  Daryn stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “I’ve heard of you.”

  Alisia’s eyes tightened, as if she were holding back a few choice words, but she only shook her head and fastened Asimir with a look that said he was being a fool. “I can’t stop you from throwing your life away, but we can’t take back this city if we’re all dead, can we? Follow me.” She turned and marched away.

  “Well?” Asimir asked, blue-green eyes burning the Urucan at the gate to ash. “Are you really going to follow this commoner girl, Daryn? We can fight our way out.”

  “What other choice do we have?” Daryn asked. “We can’t fight all these Urucan, Asimir, even if we had weapons. We must go to Amphid,” Daryn moved to place himself between Asimir and the Urucan. “She’s right. We’d need a hundred men to force our way through that gate.”

  “Amphid?” Asimir shook his head. “He might do worse to us than Carbathe will. Maybe I’d rather die here now rather than when we reach Eudan.”

  The Khos’ eyes glazed over at Asimir’s premonition, as if he might be imagining his own death at Amphid’s hands, but then blinked it away. “Stop it, Asimir.”

  Alisia had stopped some distance away and now stood waiting impatiently. She spread her hands at them. “What are you doing?”

  “She can help you,” Grevail said to Daryn. “Nobody knows more about Carbathe than the Delphines do. If anyone can get you out of here in one piece, it’s Alisia.”

  The two nobles turned to him, and after a moment, Daryn nodded as if he’d made a decision. He rolled hard eyes to the frantic townsfolk, then started after Alisia as if he had to force his feet to move. Asimir exchanged an unsure glance with Grevail before cursing and following too.

  Alisia led them from the Berry Gate through tumultuous streets where Tamirrans raced from homes with arms full of belongings, while others strapped sacks on the rump of a horse, unaware the Urucan had blocked the gates. Daryn looked more distraught the further they went, watching the scenes with unbelieving eyes.

  A shout rang out that carved through the hectic ambiance, pausing the frenzied crowd where they stood. “They’re coming!” A man skidded around a corner about a hundred paces away and broke into a run toward them. “They’re coming!” he screamed.

  On his heels, a tight formation of Urucan swathed in thick black gambesons with accents of orange rounded the bend. They hefted circular shields in one hand, overlapping the shield of the man next to them, and axes in the other. The Toads stared hard-eyed from beneath conical steel helmets with wide noseguards at the people fleeing before them.

  “Do not fight!” bellowed a man at the rear of the Urucan ranks. “You will not be harmed if you do not fight!”

  Children were swept up by adults and out of the street. Wagons piled high with belongings jolted into motion, drivers whipping the reins.

  “Get back in your homes!” the Toad at the rear of the formation shouted, waving an axe with a bone-white haft over his head.

  As if a command had been given, all around Grevail and the nobles, townsfolk poured from alleys and houses to form a line before the Urucan. They held rakes, spades, brooms, and other tools or household items, even a few with simple boards grasped in shaking hands. In front of this line of older men, young men had gathered, many mere boys, into their own line. The ragtag youth began hurling rocks at the Urucan as they approached, some even whirling slings over their heads. The stones thwacked into shields, a few off a helm in a ring of metal, but the Toads did not slow.

  “Hold them back!” A man wearing a rusted old helmet said and jumped atop a nearby crate laying in the road. “Make them pay! We must buy time for people to escape!” His eyes lit on Daryn and widened. “Khos! Lord Daryn! What has happened? Where is the Fyrd?”

  “The Fyrd isn’t here,” Daryn said, watching the Urucan marching toward them, feet thrumming in unison.

  The helmeted man waved toward the Berry Gate. “We have to help people escape! We need your help!”

  “No! The gates are blocked!” Daryn snapped in a voice so rough it could have ground steel to dust. The Khos cupped his hands over his mouth to carry his voice. “Leave now! Don’t waste your lives! Listen!”

  Shock seemed to paralyze the helmeted man. He watched Daryn in disbelief, open mouth forming silent words before his face turned to disgust. “You are running away? You?”

  “Those Urucan will go through you like a wolf through a hen house. You won’t stand a chance.” The helmeted man spluttered, taken aback, but fell silent as Daryn continued. “They won’t get away with this. The Prosperity Coalition and Amphid will come. Don’t throw your lives away for nothing. Wait until we can attack in a fair fight!”

  The helmeted man turned to look at the Eudan men facing the Urucan. “Well you can go, but I’m staying here. I’ll get as many of our people out as I can. Hold them back so people can escape!” he shouted to the thin line of townspeople, righting his rusted helmet.

  Daryn, fury reddening his face, shoved the smaller man from the crate and hopped atop it himself. “The Urucan have blocked the gates! Do not fight! Do not throw your lives away!”

  The Eudan men turned toward Daryn as word spread through the line.

  “Khos Daryn!”

  “Daryn!”

  Daryn pointed at the Urucan marching toward them, now only fifty or so paces away. “You can’t fight them! Stay alive! Amphid will return and we will take back the city! We will need all of you then! Stay your hands!”

  Confusion gripped the Tamirrans as worried faces looked from Daryn to the Urucan. The helmeted man grabbed at Daryn’s arm in an attempt to pull him from the crate. “You coward!”

  Daryn ripped his arm from the man and fastened him with a murderous stare, voice shaking with anger. “You will get all of these men killed, and for nothing! Wait until we can form a counterattack. We won’t let them have our city! We will need all of these men then. Don’t let them die needlessly, you fool!”

  The man remained silent, staring at the Urucan, who approached under an increasing hail of rocks thwacking against their shields.

  “You can’t fight that with garden tools and townsfolk!” Daryn spat. “Don’t do this!”

  The man in the helmet turned to look at the Eudan men. He nodded, as if finally seeming to understand, then looked up at Daryn in a new light. “You’re right, Khos. You’re right.” He raised his voice. “Listen to the Khos! Don’t throw your lives away! We will retake the city! Wait for Amphid!”

  The Eudan men shared dumbfounded looks, and though some held their ground, many didn’t need much more incentive and scampered from the approaching Urucan like startled deer bounding away from a predator.

  “Wait for Amphid!” Daryn shouted, the helmeted man now echoing him.

  What remained of the line fell back and began to disperse. The onslaught of rocks went from a downpour to a drizzle, and the Urucan doubled pace as if their resolve had been renewed. The Tamirrans broke, scattering into nearby buildings and alleyways.

  The helmeted man had disappeared himself as Alisia came to pull the nobles away from the Urucan and onto another street. “If you are done drawing attention to yourselves perhaps we can get to safety,” she said and wasted no time heading further into the city.

  Alisia guided them further into the city where Urucan and Carbathe’s men alike prowled like wolves amongst the frantic Tamirrans. No matter which street they turned down, they were all the same, filled with distressed villagers and aggressive, patrolling knots of Urucan invaders.

  Judging from the direction Alisia was taking them, Grevail realized she couldn’t be leading them to her house. “Where are we going?” he asked as they ducked into an alley to avoid a mob of townspeople wearing purple roses.

  “We can’t go to my house,” Alisia said. “Carbathe likely knows where I live.” A long sigh left her. “I hope Usha is not there when they arrive.” Motioning for the others to follow, she set her jaw and quickened the pace. “We must go to the hideout.”

  Hideout? Again, Grevail remembered the relic was still inside Alisia’s house. Carbathe’s soldiers could be searching the place at this very moment. The scratching itch inside his skull had not moved, and a compelling urge pulled him toward it. He didn’t know where this hideout was, and even if he had the cube right now, he’d still need the Delphines to free his friends. Would Alisia still be willing to help after what happened today? Were his friends still safe? Who knew what happened to them during all of this. Despite the pull of the Emberstone, he forced the buzz to the back of his mind and followed Alisia.

  There were far less people in the south of the city, which allowed them to move more quickly and freely instead of pausing or taking detours to avoid the distant forms of bearded Urucan invaders or even the chaotic masses of townsfolk. Soon, they had arrived before a two-story brick building that looked as if it had been abandoned for quite some time; the few windows facing the street were boarded over. Alisia knocked on the door.

  After a moment the door swung open to reveal Auphen, as if he were expecting them. Without a word, Alisia pushed past him though the door. The young man’s eyes nearly fell out of his head at the sight of Daryn.

  Inside, a pair of huge, rounded millstones took up most of the main room. Poles arced outward from a large timber jammed in the center, where oxen or men would have struggled to turn the massive blocks.

  When Grevail commented on it, Alisia shrugged. “The fellow who owned it wanted to sell and we wanted to have somewhere inconspicuous to go if something like this came.” Distant noises from the turmoil outside still pierced the thick brick walls. Alisia shook her head at them. “We hoped we’d never have to use it. Come on. We need to think up a plan.” She led them past the millstones toward a doorway where they found a darkened, dusty room filled with a handful of chairs at a table and a desk that sat in front of one tall, boarded up window.

  Alisia sat at the table and motioned for the rest of them to do the same. “Please, sit.”

  Grevail remained standing by the door, but when the nobles had seated themselves, Alisia shot him a knowing look. “I’m sorry, Grevail.”

  “You couldn’t have known this would happen,” he said, yet still, the scratching slither of the cube pulled at him, reminding him of where it was, undefended. With the chaos outside, anyone could simply walk into Alisia’s house and grab it, perhaps even Carbathe’s men. As if that weren’t bad enough, what was happening to his friends during all of this? Seirod and Erphele had guards to defend them, but what about Raela?

  Auphen scrubbed at his reddish brown hair. “A whole lot of Carbathe’s men came to the Lucky Harvest. We fought them off for a while, but they lit the place on fire, Alisia, with us inside. The blue and white in the windows and the rumor that Parxo had supported Daryn was enough reason for them, apparently. We barely escaped out a back window.” He scowled at the ground, but when he raised his eyes back to Alisia, they were steady and determined. “Have you seen Aritane?”

  Alisia shook her head. “He should pop up. If anybody comes out of this without a scratch, it would be him.”

  Daryn’s face was a crumpled, angry mess, and he occasionally glanced at the door beside Grevail as if thinking of storming through it. “You said you could help us escape.”

  Alisia considered her words before speaking. “I can, but only with more of my Delphines. Hopefully they’ll find their way to us soon enough, but it won’t be long until I can round some up. Some of them may have fled before the Urucan shut the gates, but enough have no doubt stayed put. This is exactly what we knew was coming.” She reached into her pocket and produced the note Grevail found at Seirod’s, passing it to Daryn. “Unfortunately, we were a step behind.”

  Daryn read the note aloud while Asimir crowded at his shoulder. “Where did you find this?” Daryn asked when he finished.

  Alisia inclined her head at Grevail. “He found it in Seirod’s house.”

  Daryn swung a questioning gaze to Grevail, then squeezed his eyes shut, crumpling the note in his hand. “Carbathe I knew…but Teral…” he said the name as if it were a curse, then stuffed the note into his pocket. “We need to be on our way to the capital immediately. Amphid must know all we do about what happened here.”

  “What happened at the Council House?” Auphen asked Alisia, motioning at the nobles.

  Asimir ignored Auphen as if he hadn’t spoken. “Our best bet is the Berry Gate. They’ll let their guard down eventually.”

  Alisia’s lustrous black hair swayed as she waggled her head. “The Berry Gate? It’s too small. One or two of those Toads could block the way against a few hundred men. The wall will likely be crawling with Urucan too,” she reasoned. “I have a plan, and with our help, we will get you out.”

  “Why should we listen to you?” Asimir grunted, meeting Alisia’s eyes. “I appreciate your help so far, but I don’t intend to hide in this hovel.” Asimir turned a dark gaze on the building around them that then eventually settled on Daryn. “We should have fought our way out with the townspeople. We could have overwhelmed them! We’d be well on our way to Eudan by now.”

  “You would have drawn every Toad in town to that gate,” Alisia said. “If not Carbathe himself. Now, if you want to get out of here, just give me the time to find Aritane—”

  Daryn broke in. “Aritane? How long will that take? We must be on our way as—”

  Grevail slipped out of the door and into the mill room, the voices of Alisia and the nobles fading as he neared the exit. The cube buzzed against his skull, drawing him toward it. It wasn’t the time to ask Alisia about his friends now. Will she still help? He couldn’t be certain about much of anything after today but one thing. If he didn’t have that Emberstone, there wouldn’t be much chance of seeing his friends again at all. Ash at dawn, let them be alright.