The Light of All That Falls, page 51
People seemed calmer, though there were still unmistakably distraught individuals searching through the crowds, staring desperately at every face as they looked for lost loved ones. Wirr’s heart twisted as he watched, thinking of Saric. There would be others like him who had been pressed into action by Wirr’s commands, forcing them to leave their families behind.
Crashes echoed down the tunnel, each followed by a crackling sound that Wirr knew had to be a massive release of energy outside. The eletai were still attacking, still throwing themselves against the bastion of the Resolute Door. Each crunching clang was met with flinching from many in the tunnel, a thousand fearful intakes of breath whispering every time.
He scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on Taeris making his way toward them. The Representative must have been waiting for him to emerge.
Wirr waved Scyner and Erran on with Elder Eilinar. “I know the way. I’ll catch up.”
Erran gave him a slight nod, and they hurried off.
“Sire,” said Taeris as he arrived, the relief in his voice undisguised. “I am glad to see you safe.” From the inflection in his tone and his icy glance toward Eilinar’s retreating form, he clearly wasn’t referring to the dangers from outside the Tol.
Wirr gave him a tight smile. “It’s going as well as can be expected,” he said quietly. “Deldri?”
“Being cared for. By people I trust,” added Taeris.
Wirr swallowed, clasping Taeris on the shoulder. “Thank you.” He exhaled, one fear of many allayed for now, and glanced out across the sea of refugees. There was a lump in his throat as he formed the question that had to be asked. “How many?”
Taeris’s face twisted.
“Easier to tell you who survived than who didn’t,” he admitted. “Less than half of the Assembly. A couple of hundred Administrators. Perhaps a thousand civilians, if we’re lucky.”
Wirr acknowledged the assessment, a little shakily. Not as bad as it could have been, but far from good.
“The army?”
“Five hundred soldiers, by my estimate. Another hundred Gifted who have been training with them.” He hesitated. “A few captains, but in terms of leadership… General Vis and General Calder were both still outside with your uncle when the gate closed.”
Wirr closed his eyes, rubbing his temples to try and ease the steady ache behind his eyes.
“So what’s going to happen to them?” asked Taeris, his gaze encompassing the miserable-looking refugees. “I assume that the Council are… unimpressed with our presence. They wouldn’t allow me into the meeting,” he added bitterly.
Wirr snorted. “They know whose side you’d be on, I suppose.” He shook his head. “They’re stopping short of calling it an invasion. For now. But they claim that the Tol isn’t outfitted to supply all of these people.”
“They’re… right.” Taeris held up a hand as Wirr glared at him. “It doesn’t justify anything they’ve done. But from a purely practical point of view…” He sighed, glancing toward where Nashrel, Erran, and Scyner had just disappeared. “So. What’s going on?”
“The Gifted think that there was a breach in the cells. That someone—or something—got inside the Tol,” said Wirr grimly. “We could use your help.”
Wirr thought he saw a flicker of hesitation on Taeris’s scarred face.
“I have one other thing I need to do first, Sire, if that’s all right,” he said thoughtfully. “But I’ll join you shortly.”
Wirr nodded his approval, and they parted ways.
He jogged after the others, catching up to them after only a minute as they made their way down a deserted side passage and toward the Tol’s cells. Wirr knew their location but had never had reason to visit them himself. The area looked no different from the rest of the Tol in most respects, though once they passed the jailer—a concerned-looking man who was protesting to another Elder that he’d seen nothing since starting his shift—the surroundings changed dramatically. The cells were little more than hewn caves with bars for doors, barely high enough to accommodate a man standing or wide enough to allow someone to sleep. Clearly not made by the Builders.
They arrived in front of one of the cells, and Wirr grimaced.
The bars here were badly damaged, melted away.
“I thought these cells were supposed to stop people from using Essence?”
“They are,” replied Nashrel uneasily, moving to the iron and holding his hand over the metal. “Still warm,” he added.
Wirr looked around at the surrounding cells. Only one was occupied, the shadowed figure lying on the bed at the back.
“You.” Wirr strode across to stand at the entrance to the cell. “Surely you saw something?”
There was no response, nor any movement from the prisoner within. Wirr peered through the bars, trying to make out whether the man was genuinely asleep. He could see only a single hand dangling down into the light, its forefinger missing.
Nashrel came to stand beside Wirr. “You won’t get any answers from him. That’s Ilseth Tenvar.”
Wirr started as the name registered, a flash of surprised fury running through him. Tenvar had been the one to fool Davian back at the school, who had been complicit in the killings there and at other schools around Andarra. Davian had questioned him, had broken into the man’s mental Lockbox and in doing so had accidentally caused him to enter a catatonic state.
Tenvar had been working for… well. They had always assumed that he had been working for Aarkein Devaed.
“He’s still alive?” he muttered.
“His condition is unique,” observed Nashrel. “He sleeps, eats, and will relieve himself when guided to do so. The healers bolster him with Essence every few days. We are uncertain as to whether the man himself remains in there—even the Vessels we have for restoring minds haven’t worked on him—but we are not in the business of executing prisoners simply because they cannot communicate.” His expression darkened. “Augur Erran has been asked several times to come and assess his condition, but thus far, hasn’t found the time.”
Erran, overhearing the comment, let out a snort. “There have been one or two other things to do,” he observed mildly as he continued his inspection of the melted bars behind them.
Wirr scowled to himself, unhappy to find the traitorous Elder here. “I thought he would be in a more secure location.”
“These cells are more than enough. And it is easier to manage his condition from here,” said Nashrel. “I sincerely doubt that he will see any rescue attempt.”
Wirr shook his head, gazing at the silhouette of the man before turning away. The sight only caused old pain and anger to stir inside him—emotions he didn’t need or want to deal with right now. Ilseth had been an evil man, but his fate was as bad a one as Wirr could have wished upon anyone. There was no point in dwelling upon his presence.
They inspected the area for a few minutes longer, but there were no obvious clues as to what had happened, and even Scyner couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary. It was clear that either a Vessel or kan had to have been involved to portal someone into the cell—and then the same to destroy the bars from the inside—but it was impossible to deduce anything more.
Eventually Erran and Scyner glanced at each other, and Erran shook his head.
“I don’t know,” the Augur admitted. “It looks like something one of us could have done, but…” He shrugged helplessly.
“Scouring the Tol will be impossible. Particularly with so many unfamiliar faces already here,” Nashrel added darkly. He looked up at movement in the doorway, his frown only deepening as he saw who it was. “Taeris.”
“Nashrel.” Taeris nodded politely to the leader of the Tol, ignoring the other man’s tone, and walked over to Wirr. “Find anything?”
“Someone definitely got in here, but…” Wirr shook his head and trailed off.
Nashrel watched them. “We should reconvene in an hour,” he said to Wirr. “You would no doubt like to see to your people.” He eyed Taeris. “We need to talk soon, too.”
“Of course,” said Taeris smoothly. He turned to Wirr and the two Augurs. “Perhaps we can discuss courses of action in my office.”
Wirr kept his expression neutral as he agreed. Taeris’s office here was a Lockroom. What he had to say must be important.
They made their way along the passageway—all but empty, with the Gifted concentrated in the main tunnel, helping the survivors—until they finally reached Taeris’s office. The four of them entered, Wirr watching as Taeris shut the door behind them.
“What’s this about?” he asked impatiently as soon as it was closed. “We need to be out there helping.”
There was movement from the corner, a shimmering, and suddenly a figure appeared. Wirr’s heart went to his throat and he tapped Essence, ready to attack; beside him, he could see Erran and Scyner reacting with similar alarm.
The figure stepped forward into the lamplight.
“Hello, Wirr,” said Caeden, giving him a tired smile.
Wirr sat at the edge of his seat, processing what Caeden had just told him, unable to keep his gaze from repeatedly returning to the man—confirmed by his own admission now—who had once been known as Aarkein Devaed.
His emotions as he looked as his friend were still mixed, almost an hour after their reunion. The knowledge of what Caeden remembered doing warred with what Wirr knew of the man personally, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much that remembering had changed him. Caeden was different, that much was clear. He was confident, driven, focused—and also harder.
But as they’d spoken, familiarity had begun to win out. Turns of phrase, even jests, fell back into the sort of easy rhythm that came only with being friends. Caeden’s first question, after learning of the attack in the city, had been about Karaliene. And his first piece of news had been to assure Wirr that Davian was not only still alive, but stronger than ever—taking the time to explain their imprisonment together in Zvaelar, albeit in the briefest possible terms. That said a lot, too.
It was Caeden, without a doubt. Whoever else he had been, Wirr did know him.
Caeden watched Wirr, and his gaze suggested that he understood the complexity of Wirr’s emotions. “It’s a lot to take in,” he observed.
Wirr chuckled drily. “Yes.”
What Caeden had told him explained much, as well as confirming everything Ishelle had said, even if that wasn’t really necessary now. Most concerning, of course, had been his revelation of Desriel’s ultimate goal. Not to conquer Andarra, as everyone thought—but to instead carry out the Venerate’s plan.
To bring down the Boundary, once and for all.
Caeden flashed a brief smile in response, but his expression soon turned serious. “How many fighting bodies do you have left?”
“Five hundred soldiers. Perhaps two hundred Administrators, and four hundred Gifted, though we won’t be able to bring all of the last two groups along. We’ll be lucky to get many of them, actually,” Wirr amended unhappily.
“We’re not exactly popular with the Council or Administration right now,” added Taeris, who had largely been silent as he’d listened to the conversation. He’d guessed that the breach had been Caeden, apparently—had remembered that Caeden was familiar with Tol Athian’s cells, enough so for him to use a Gate—and had headed back to his office, giving Caeden an opportunity to make contact away from prying eyes. Caeden had located him not long after.
“You may have to leave them with no choice,” said Caeden, looking meaningfully at Wirr. “We need to put everything we have into protecting the Cyrarium. Any politics here will be irrelevant if we fail in that.”
Wirr shifted, then agreed morosely. It would cause a rift from which he doubted he or any of the royal family could recover, but… there was simply too much at stake.
“And you’re sure they will be coming from the north?” asked Taeris, a little uncertainly. “Talmiel is the only crossing, and—”
“You are thinking about the Gil’shar that you know,” Caeden cut him off, not unkindly but firmly. “Gassandrid and the other Venerate set themselves up in Desriel the way they did for a purpose, Taeris. Do you know about their sacred vault?” When Taeris indicated he did, Caeden continued, “The Venerate filled it with Vessels—Vessels that don’t require Gifted to be used,” he added significantly. “This fight will not just be against Traps. They will be wielding Essence against you.” He let the significance of that sink in. “I do not know how they are intending to cross, but there are any number of Vessels that could allow them to do so. Just think of your Travel Stones.”
Taeris nodded reluctantly. “If they do have Travel Stones, how will we possibly—”
“Bad example.” Caeden held up a hand apologetically. “Vessels that can create portals are very rare—and even if they were not, the Gil’shar couldn’t transport the Columns that way. The Columns are… they’ll disrupt any kan mechanisms they interact with. One of them would probably collapse a portal the moment they tried to pass it through. It’s the same reason that I know they won’t risk taking them through Deilannis.” He rubbed his face, thinking. “No—however they’re intending to come, it will involve marching. You can count on that much.”
Wirr hesitated. “You’re certain that what you Read from Alaris is correct?”
“I am.” Caeden said the words calmly, though Wirr could tell they made his friend sick. “The Cyrarium is in the Menaath Mountains, and Alaris was intending to take the shortest possible route there. If you send your men to Talmiel—as they are expecting you to do—then we will lose.”
“The Menaath Mountains are a long journey from here,” observed Scyner.
“I’ll make a Gate.”
“Not if you don’t want to be delayed. At best.” It was Taeris this time, looking gloomy. “The Tol’s mechanisms will detect it as soon as you start trying to make a portal, and the Council are on edge like never before. And they don’t particularly trust you. There will be things that they’re willing to allow, but opening a portal past their defenses won’t be one of them.”
Nobody said anything, and then Wirr brightened.
“What about the Sanctuary?” He addressed the question mostly to Scyner.
“I was able to protect the Shadows’ children from the draining effect of the Conduit, but I could not do so for many more.” Scyner paused, looking thoughtful. “But. I may be able to get a large group past it, into the catacombs, if we open the Gate there.”
Caeden nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Wirr, if you tell the Council that you’re leaving via the Sanctuary, then they won’t try and stop you. They’ll probably throw in some Gifted just to get all those soldiers out of the Tol.” He smiled humorlessly at that. “Don’t tell them about me or the Gate, of course. Ilseth was the only agent of the Venerate that I knew of two years ago, but that doesn’t mean that others haven’t been turned in the meantime.” He turned back to Scyner. “Now. Tell me about the sha’teth.”
Scyner related their experience with the creatures, Caeden listening intently as one detail or another was supplied by Wirr and Taeris.
“You’re right. We need to kill them,” he said. “And then I need to speak with this other Augur. Ishelle.” He shook his head. “I have never heard of anyone having direct communication with the Hive, but there may be a way to use it against the Venerate.”
“I can show you the way to the sha’teth,” Taeris offered.
Caeden shook his head. “I already know my way around those levels.” There was a touch of shame to the words, though Wirr didn’t know why. “You need to get people together and go. Now.”
“Only those who can fight,” amended Scyner quickly. “I know it will not be pleasant for those left behind, but civilians will slow us down.”
“I’ll see to it,” Wirr said heavily. The people wouldn’t be well-treated here, but once the majority of the soldiers and Administrators left, there would at least be less reason to accuse them of draining supplies.
“Good.” Caeden stood. “As soon as everyone is gathered, I’ll meet you down there and Gate you north.”
Wirr hesitated, catching the meaning. “You’re not coming with us?”
Caeden’s expression was hard to read as he paused.
“If I am being honest, Wirr, the force that you will be bringing to this fight is simply not enough,” he said eventually. “This is exactly why the Venerate made Asha their offer. If they destroy the Cyrarium, her being in the Tributary is pointless. We need her out here,” he concluded. “We need her strength—both to retrieve Licanius, and to defend against the Gil’shar.”
Wirr swallowed. “Assuming that she is all right.” Caeden had told them about Diara.
“And that this Vessel you’ve been given actually works,” added Taeris, with what Wirr considered to be reasonable concern in his voice. Caeden hadn’t gone into detail about the Lyth, except to explain that they were ‘helping.’ They had delivered him the Vessel that would set Asha free not long before he had opened the Gate to the Tol, apparently.
“She is, and it will.” Caeden gave them a confident nod.
“But I thought you said that someone would need to take her place in the Tributary,” protested Scyner.
Caeden waved away the comment. “Let me worry about that.” He headed for the door.
“Wait.” Scyner leaped to his feet, holding out his hand. “It will help if you can reach us quickly, once you’re done.”
Caeden vacillated, then dug into a pocket and proffered a smooth black stone. Wirr squinted. It appeared to have the symbol of the Tenets carved into it. Scyner took it with obvious relief, tucking it away.
Caeden made to go again and then lingered at the door, glancing back at Wirr.
“For what it’s worth—I am sorry,” he said. “For the man I was. For dragging you and Dav and Asha into this. For all of it.”
