Langdon Bridge Directly overhead the full moon peered through a break in the clouds, making the Bernum River glisten like a dark, oily snake as it wound through the heart of Colnora. Numerous warehouses perched on the high banks, sleeping like behemoths on the cold winter night. Far from the residential neighborhoods, the mercantile district was desolate at this hour. Frost-covered lampposts fashioned in the shapes of swans dotted the length of the Langdon Bridge, illuminating icicles hanging from every ledge and ornament. Snow started to fall once more, and fluffy flakes caught in the lamplight twirled and drifted on air currents rising from the river gorge. The sound of the Bernum roared up from the depths like some monstrous, insatiable beast.
Royce stood in the shadows on the north side of the bridge. Despite the cold, he was drenched in sweat. Behind him, Saldur and Modina stood silently with their wrists tied behind their backs. Royce did not use gags-they were not required. He had given his prisoners several reasons to remain silent.
Extracting Saldur from the prison tower had been easy enough. The ex-regent offered no resistance and obeyed every whispered command promptly and quietly. Royce had been disappointed, as he was eager for any excuse to correct that particular captive's behavior. Modina was another matter. He honestly regretted taking her. He simply had no choice. Royce had squeezed her neck with the least amount of pressure and for the shortest interval necessary to drop her painlessly into unconsciousness. He was certain she woke with a terrible headache but suffered no other harm.
Royce studied the warehouses on the far side of the bridge. One had a four-leaf clover painted on its side. That was the place where he had mistakenly killed Merrick's lover. It happened back when all three of them were assassins in the Black Diamond Thieves Guild. Jade's tomb. He worried about the message Merrick was sending with his choice of location.
After glancing up again and checking the location of the moon, Royce lit a lantern and stepped into the street. Two nerve-wracking moments later, another light appeared in reply from the far end of the bridge. Merrick was there. And Gwen was with him.
She's alive!
Royce's heart leapt. Relief mixed with anxiety. She was so close, yet not close enough. No one else was visible-the Black Diamond was conspicuously absent. Royce had expected members of the thieves' guild to descend the instant he entered the city. Either Merrick had arranged for safe passage, or they decided they did not want any part of this transaction.
"Show them," Merrick's voice carried on the cool, crisp air.
Royce motioned and Modina and Saldur stepped from the shadows next to him.
"I'll double your reward for this, Marius," Saldur shouted. "You'll be Marquis of Melengar. I'll-" He cried out in pain as Royce dragged Alverstone along his shoulder blade. The gleaming knife sliced through the regent's robes and into his skin.
"Did we forget our agreement?" Royce hissed.
Royce looked at Modina, who stood quiet and still. The empress displayed no fear, anger, or malice. She did not struggle. She merely waited.
"Send them across," Merrick ordered.
"Don't run, Saldur," Royce said. "You need to match Gwen's pace. I'm good at throwing a dagger, and you won't be out of my range until you reach the bridge's midpoint. If you pass it before she does, it will be the last step you ever take."
The captives stepped forward at the same time as Gwen. She wore a heavy wool cloak and boots that were not her own. Tears streamed down her cheeks. With her arms tied behind her back, she could not push away her tangled hair or free her mouth from the gag. They each walked toward one another at an agonizingly slow pace.
For Royce, nothing on the face of the world stirred except for the three hostages on the bridge. The prisoners passed at the bridge's center, exchanging only brief glances. The wind blew harder, throwing the snow and Gwen's hair askew. Royce's heart thundered in his chest as she broke into a run. He no longer cared about the others. Saldur could rule all of Elan, so long as he could have Gwen. They would go to Avempartha-leave that very night. The wagon was already filled with supplies and hitched to a strong team. He would take her beyond everyone's reach. Royce would finally have a place to call home and have a life worth living. Every night he would sleep with Gwen in his arms, knowing he would never need to leave her again. Together they would walk through open fields without Royce having to look over his shoulder. They would have children, and he would delight in providing them a childhood he never had. Royce would grow old, content with Gwen at his side.
He was sprinting to her. He did not recall telling his feet to move, yet they raced toward her. As the distance between them closed, Royce threw out his arms to embrace Gwen. Suddenly her eyes widened with shock, then shut tight with anguish. She stiffened and arched her back as the crossbow bolt exited the front of her body. Royce felt a spray of blood.
She fell.
"GWEN!" he screamed.
He slid to his knees and turned her over so they could see each other. Dark blood pooled around her, staining the snow. He cradled Gwen in his arms, pulled her to him, and brushed the hair from her face. Royce's hands shook as he cut her restraints. He pulled away the gag, which was soaked in blood.
She coughed. "Roy-Roy-ce," she struggled. "Roy-ce…my love…"
"Shh," he told her. "It will be all right. I'll find a doctor. I'll take care of you. We're going to get married right away. No more waiting. I swear it!"
"No." She shook her head in his hands. "I don't…need a doctor."
Royce wiped the blood from her mouth and supported her head as her eyes fought for focus.
Her hand twitched as she tried to lift it toward his face. "Don't cry," she said.
Royce had not been aware that he was until that moment. Tears ran down his cheeks and fell to her face, mixing with the thin line of blood that trickled from the side of her mouth.
This cannot be happening, his mind screamed. We are going away together. The wagon is ready!
He shook and shuddered as if he might break in two.
"Don't leave me Gwen. I love you. Please don't leave me."
"It's okay, R-Royce…Don't you see?"
"No, no-it's not. It's not okay! It's-" his voice broke. He swallowed. "How can this be okay? How can you leaving me alone be all right?"
She jerked in his arms. Her eyes closed and she coughed once more. When her eyes opened again, her chest heaved for breath. A thick gurgling sound came from her throat.
"It's the fork in your lifeline," she managed to say, her voice weaker now-only a coarse whisper. "You reached it…The death of the one you love most. Only I was wrong…I was wrong. It wasn't Hadrian…It was me…It was me all along."
"Yes," he cried, kissing her forehead.
"And what did I tell you about that? What did I say? Do you remember?"
"You said…You said that you could die a happy woman if only that were true."
She looked up at him tenderly, but her eyes lost focus and began to wander. "I can't see you, Royce. It's dark. I can't see in the dark like you can. I'm scared."
He clenched her hand. "I'm here, Gwen. I'm right beside you."
"Royce, listen to me. You have to hang on," she said, her voice suddenly urgent. "Don't let go. Don't you dare let go. Do you hear me? Are you listening to me, Royce Melborn? You have to hang on, Royce. Please…give me your hand. Give me your hand!"
He squeezed her hand tighter. "I'm here, Gwen. I have you. I'm not letting go. I'll never let go."
"Promise me. You must promise. Please, Royce."
"I promise," he told her.
"I love you, Royce. Don't forget…Don't let go…"
"I love you."
"Don't…let…"
Her body hitched again. She struggled to breathe, stiffened in his arms, and then slowly…gradually…fell limp. Her head tilted backward. Clutching her tightly to his chest, he kissed her face. Gwen was gone and Royce was alone.
Amilia, Breckton, Hadrian, and Arista led thirty horsemen to the gates of Colnora. The cavalry detachment was selected from the Northern Imperial Army and included Breckton's best soldiers. Most of them had been at the siege of Drondil Fields only weeks before. These were not the sons of counts and dukes. They did not wear elaborately decorated armor of full plate. They were grim, battle-hardened men who honed their skills on bloody fields.
In the wake of Modina's abduction, Amilia found herself in the surreal position of imperial steward. The former scullery maid now ruled the Empire. She tried not to think about it. Unlike Modina, she was not descended from Novron and held no pedigree to protect her. And she had no idea how long she had before her power, her station, and perhaps her very life, ended.
She had no idea what to do, but to her great relief, Sir Breckton mobilized his men and vowed to find the empress. When Sir Hadrian and Arista volunteered to join them, Amilia decided to ride as well. She could not sit in the palace. She did not know how to administrate, so she left Nimbus in charge until her return. If she could not find Modina, there might be no point in returning at all. They had to find her.
"Open the gate!" Sir Breckton shouted toward the watchtower that sat atop the wall in Colnora.
"City gate opens at dawn," someone replied from above.
"I am Sir Breckton, Commander of the Imperial Hosts, on a mission of grave importance to Her Eminence. I demand that you open at once!"
"And I am the gatekeeper with strict orders to keep this gate sealed between dusk and dawn. Come back at first light."
"What are we going to do?" Amilia asked as panic threatened to consume her. The absurdity of the situation was overwhelming. The empress's life was at stake, and they were at the mercy of a foolish man and a wooden gate.
Breckton dismounted. "We can lash tree branches together to make ladders and go over the walls. Or we can build a ram-"
"We don't have time for that," Hadrian interrupted. "The full moon's high. Royce is doing the exchange at the Langdon Bridge. We have to get inside and down to that bridge-now!"
"This is all your fault!" Amilia burst out and shook with fury. "You and your friend. First you attempt to kill Sir Breckton, and now he's taken Modina."
Breckton reached up and took her hand. "Although he had the power to do so, Sir Hadrian did not kill me. He is not responsible for the actions of his associate. He is trying to help."
Amilia wiped tears from her eyes and nodded. She did not know what to do. She was no general. She was just a stupid peasant girl who the nobility would soon execute. Everything was so hopeless. The only one who did not seem upset was Arista.
The princess was humming.
Already off her horse, she stood with her eyes closed and her hands outstretched. Her fingers moved delicately through the air and a low vibration echoed from deep in her throat. The sound was not a tune or a song of any kind. There was no discernable melody, and as Arista's voice grew louder, the air seemed to grow thick and heavy. Then there was another hum. An echo resonated from the gate. The wooden beams moved like a man quivering in the cold. They cracked and buckled. The great hinges rattled, and bits of stone fractured where they met the walls. Arista stopped humming. The gate ceased its trembling. Then, in one burst of voice, she uttered an unrecognizable word, and the gate exploded in flying bits of splintered wood and scattered snow.
Modina tested the ropes on her wrists, but the movement only caused them to bite deeper. Merrick Marius and two men she did not know had dragged her off the bridge and into a nearby warehouse. Saldur was allowed to walk freely. The building was cavernous, abandoned, and in need of repair. Broken windows let in snow, which drifted across the bare floorboards. Torn sacks and broken glass littered the floor.
"Excellent, my boy. Excellent." Saldur addressed Merrick Marius as another man cut his hands free. "I will honor my offer to reward you handsomely. You will-"
"Shut up!" Merrick ordered harshly. "Get them both upstairs."
One of the men threw Modina over his shoulder like a sack of flour and carried her up the steps.
"I don't understand," Saldur said, even as the other stranger steered him upstairs, too.
"This isn't over," Merrick replied. "DeLancy is dead. You have no idea what that means. The scales are balanced. The demon is unleashed."
He said more, but his voice faded as she was carried up several flights. The man carrying Modina dropped her in an empty room on the third floor. He pulled a wad of twine from his pocket and bound her ankles tight. When he was done, he moved to the broken window and peered out.
Moonlight fell across his face. He was a short, husky brute with a rough beard and flat nose. He wore a dark cowl over a coarse woolen garnache, but Modina's eyes were focused on the leather girdle from which two long daggers hung. He crouched on one knee, looking at the street below.
"Be very quiet, miss," he murmured, "or I'll have to slit your throat."
With trembling hands, Royce laid Gwen's lifeless body near the side of the bridge. He closed her eyes and kissed her lips one last time. Folding her arms gently across her chest, he covered her as best he could with the rough, oversized cloak as if putting her to bed. He could not bring himself to cover her face and stared at it for a long while, noting the smile she wore even in death.
Turning from her, he got up and, without conscious thought, found himself crossing the bridge.
"Stop right there, Royce!" Merrick shouted when he had reached the far side.
From the sound and angle of his voice, Royce knew Merrick was on the second floor of the warehouse.
"All of the lower doors and windows are sealed. I have a man with a dagger to the empress's throat."
Royce ignored him. He deftly climbed up the closest lamppost, shattered the lantern, and snuffed out the flame. He repeated this twice more, darkening the area.
"I mean it, Royce," Merrick shouted again. The tinge of panic in his voice betrayed that his old partner could no longer see him. "Don't make the mistake of killing another innocent woman tonight."
Royce tore the bottom of his cloak and soaked the scrap in the lamppost reservoir. Then he walked to the warehouse.
"You can't get to me without killing her!" Merrick shouted again. "Get back where I can see you."
Royce began coating the base of the walls with oil.
"Damn it, Royce. I didn't do it. I didn't kill her. It wasn't me."
Royce struck a light, catching the oiled cloth on fire and pushed it under the door. The wood was old and dry, and the flames hungrily took hold. The brisk winter wind did its part, spreading flames to the clapboard sides.
"What are you doing?" asked Saldur's voice, rising in terror. "Marius, do something. Threaten to cut Modina's throat if he doesn't-"
"I did, you idiot! He doesn't care about the empress. He's going to kill us all!" Marius shouted.
The flames spread quickly. Royce went back for more oil to lure the fire across the timbers. The exterior of the storehouse blazed, and sheets of flame raced upward. Royce stepped back and watched the building burn. He felt the heat on his face as the flaming building lit up the street.
Shouts came from inside, fighting to be heard over the crackling of the fire. Royce waited, watching the cloverleaf insignia burn away.
It was not long before the first man jumped from a second-story window. He managed to land well enough, but Royce was on him in an instant. Alverstone flickered in the firelight. The man screamed, but Royce was in no hurry and took his time. He cut the tendons of the man's legs, making it impossible for him to run. Then, sitting on his chest, he severed the man's fingers. It had been a long time since Royce had used Alverstone to dismember someone. He marveled at how well the white dagger cut through the toughest cartilage and even through bone. Royce left the first man to bleed when he noticed another one jump. This one came from a third-story window. He landed awkwardly, and Royce heard a bone break.
"No!" the man cried, struggling to crawl away as Royce's dark form flew toward him. The man scraped desperately at the snow. Once more, Royce was slow and methodical. The man howled with each cut. When he stopped moving, Royce removed his heart. He stood up, drenched in blood, his right arm soaked to the elbow, and threw the organ through the window the man had leapt from.
"You're next, Saldur," he taunted. "I can't wait to see if you actually have one or not."
There was no response.
Out of the corner of his eye, Royce saw a dark figure moving from the back of the building. Merrick was barely noticeable as he slipped through the dancing shadows. Royce guessed he was planning to hide on the lip under the Langdon Bridge, which the Black Diamond used to ambush targets. Royce left Saldur to burn. The fire completely engulfed the second floor. It would just be a matter of time. The only way out was for the regent to jump, and a man his age would fare poorly in a three-story drop to frozen ground.
Royce chased after Merrick, who abandoned stealth to make an open run for it. Royce caught up quickly, and Merrick gave up near the middle of the bridge. He turned, his dagger drawn, his face covered in sweat and soot.
"I didn't kill her," he shouted.
Royce did not respond. He rapidly closed the remaining distance and attacked. The white dagger lashed out like a snake. Merrick dodged. He avoided the first swipe but Royce caught him on the return stroke, slicing across his chest.
"Listen to me," Merrick said, still trying to back away. "Why would I kill her? You know me! Don't you think I knew she was my protection? Have you ever seen me do anything as stupid as that? Just ask yourself-why would I do such a thing? What would I gain? Think, Royce, think. What reason would I have to kill her?"
"The same reason that I'm going to kill you-revenge."
Royce lunged. Merrick tried to move, but he was too slow. He would have died instantly if Royce had aimed for his heart or throat. Instead, Alverstone caught Merrick in the right shoulder.
It plunged deep and Merrick dropped his weapon.
"IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!" Merrick screamed at him. "This has nothing to do with Jade. If I wanted revenge, I could have killed you years ago. I only wanted Saldur and the empress. I was never going to hurt her. We've made our peace with one another, Royce. I was serious about that offer to work together again. We are not enemies. Don't make the same mistake I did. You were set up when Jade died, but I couldn't see that-I didn't want to. Now someone is doing the same thing to me. I've been set up, don't you see? Just like you were. Use your brain! If I had a bow, would I have let you burn the warehouse? It wasn't me. It was someone else!"
Royce made a show of looking around. "Funny, I don't see anyone else here."
He pounced again. Merrick retreated and his heel hit the short curb of the bridge.
"You're running out of room."
"Damn it Royce, you have to believe me. I would never kill Gwen. I swear to you-I didn't do it!"
"I believe you," Royce said. "I just don't care."
With one final thrust, he stabbed Alverstone into Merrick's chest.
Merrick toppled backward. He reached out for the only thing he could grab, and together he and Royce fell over the edge.
When the gate had burst open, Hadrian did not wait for the others. Instead, he spurred his horse and raced toward the river. Malevolent slipped on the snow and nearly fell as he rounded the corner to Landon Bridge. On the far side, the warehouse burned like a giant pyre. The street lamps on that side of the bridge were dark. On his side, the iron swans, dusted with snow, flickered with an eerie orange light. The tall lampposts cast wavering shadows-thin, dark, dancing spears that fluttered and jabbed.
Hadrian saw her lying near the side of the bridge.
"Oh, dear Maribor, no!" He ran to Gwen's side. Flakes of snow gathered on her closed eyes and clung to her dark lashes. He put his head to her chest. There was no heartbeat-she was dead.
"IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!" Hadrian heard someone cry out. Looking down the bridge, he saw them at the very apex of the span. Royce had Merrick backed up along the edge. Merrick was hurt, unarmed, and screaming. Jumping to his feet, Hadrian sprinted forward, his boots slipping on the slick snow. From only a few strides away, Hadrian saw Royce stab Merrick and watched as both of them tumbled over the side.
He slid, caught himself against the lip, and looked over. His heart pounded in his chest. Far below, the churning water of the Bernum River revealed itself as a dark line broken by moonlit explosions where water crashed against rocks. He saw something dark still falling. A moment later, it hit the surface with a brief flash of white.
Arista flexed her fingers and climbed back on her horse. Breckton remounted as well and rode forward to speak with the shouting gate guards. Hadrian had already disappeared into the twisting streets.
No one mentioned anything about the exploding gate.
Without Hadrian to guide them, Sir Breckton led the detachment through Colnora. They crossed the Bernum using the Warpole Bridge and were midway across when they saw the warehouse ablaze near a bridge farther down the river, signaling their destination. Rather than backtrack, Breckton continued across the Warpole and arrived at the Langdon Bridge on the warehouse side, causing them to pass in front of the monstrous blaze.
The building was an inferno. The burning hulk mesmerized Arista. Huge spirals of flames reached to the sky. All four stories were on fire. The north wall blistered and snapped. The east wall curled and partially collapsed, releasing a burst of sparks and a rain of burning debris that hissed when it struck snow. White smoke billowed out from shattered windows and a nearby oak tree blazed, its naked limbs turned into a giant torch.
Arista heard a woman cry out.
"That's Modina!" Amilia shrieked, pulling back so hard on her horse's reins that the beast shook its head and backed up a step. "SHE'S INSIDE!"
Sir Breckton and several of his men dismounted and rushed to the doorway. They broke down the bolted door, but the heat forced them back. Breckton pulled his cloak over his head and started to enter.
"Stop!" Arista shouted as she slid from her horse.
The knight hesitated.
"You'll die before you reach her. I'll go."
"But-" Breckton started to say then stopped. Rubbing his jaw, he looked at the fire and then back at Arista. "Can you save her?"
Arista shook her head. "I don't know. I've never done this before, but I stand a better chance than you do. Just keep everyone else back."
She pulled the sleeves of Esrahaddon's robe over her hands and the hood up around her head and then approached the crumbling warehouse. Realizing she could sense the fire's movements was exhilarating. The blaze moved and acted like a living thing. It withered, snapped, and fed on the old wood like a ravenous beast. It was hungry, starved for nourishment, a never ending want, boundless greed. Approaching the inferno, she sensed it noticing her, and the fire regarded Arista with desire.
No, she told it. Eat the wood. Ignore me.
The fire hissed.
Leave me alone or I will snuff you out.
Arista knew she could conjure a rainstorm, or even a whirlwind, but rain would take too long, and wind would collapse the fragile building. Perhaps there was a way to eliminate the fire altogether, but she was not certain how to go about it and Modina could not wait for her to figure it out.
The fire snapped. She felt its elemental eye turn away and Arista entered the blackened doorway. She walked into an inferno of smoke and fire. Everything around her was burning. Hot currents of air whipped and gusted, blasting through the building's interior. She moved through a raging river of smoky air that parted around her.
After finding the scorched wooden stairs, she carefully began to climb. Beneath her feet the planks fractured, splintered, and popped. With the protection of Esrahaddon's robe, she felt warmth but nothing more. Breathing through the material, Arista found fresh, cool air.
"Thanks Esra," she muttered, pushing forward into the thick, surging smoke.
She heard a muffled cry from above and climbed. On the third floor, she found Modina. The empress was in the center of a small room, hands and feet bound. The fire was busy enjoying the older, drier timber of the main brace on the far side of the room and ignored the greener floorboards where Modina lay. Running along the rafters it ate into the supporting beams with wolfish delight.
"Not much time," the princess said, glancing up. "Can you walk?"
"Yes," Modina answered.
Arista cursed herself for not wearing a dagger as her fingers struggled to untie the empress's hands. Once loose, they worked to free her feet.
Modina coughed and gagged. Arista removed the robe. Instantly the intense heat slammed into her. She wrapped the garment over their shoulders like a blanket and held one of the sleeves to her mouth.
"Breathe through the robe," she told Modina over the roaring blaze.
The two women moved down the stairs together. Arista kept her focus on the fire's intentions and warned it away when it came too close. A timber cracked overhead and crashed with the sound of thunder. The building shuddered with the blow. A step snapped under Arista, and Modina pulled her forward in time to save the princess from a two-story fall.
"We can thank the dungeon for you not weighing much," Modina said through the sleeve pressed against her mouth.
They reached the ground floor and raced out together. The moment Modina emerged, Amilia threw her arms around her.
"There's someone else up there," Sir Breckton announced. "In that upper window near the end."
"Help!" Saldur cried. "Someone help me!"
A few looked to Arista, but she made no move to re-enter the building.
"HELP ME!" he screamed.
Arista stepped back to get a better view. The old man was in tears. His face transfigured with horror.
"Arista!" he pleaded, spotting her. "In the name of Novron…help me child."
"It's a shame," she shouted back, her voice rising above the roar of the fire, "that Hilfred isn't here to save you."
There was another loud crack and Saldur's eyes filled with panic. He grabbed the windowsill and clung to it as the floor gave way beneath him. With a final scream, his fingers slipped and Maurice Saldur, former Bishop of the Nyphron Church, co-regent and architect of the New Empire, vanished from view into the inferno.
Hadrian was bent over the bridge's edge, looking over the side. His eyes fixated on the spot far below where the body hit the river. A gust of wind revealed a familiar cloak that flapped out from below the skirt of the bridge.
His heart beat faster as he spotted four fingers clinging to a hidden lip that ran beneath the span. He hurriedly wrapped his feet around a lamppost and lowered himself farther. Royce was there, just out of reach. His partner's left hand held the underside of the Langdon, his feet dangling free.
"Royce!" Hadrian called.
His partner did not look up.
"Royce-damn you, look at me!"
Royce continued to stare down into the foaming waters as the wind whipped his black cape like the broken wings of a bird.
"Royce, I can't reach you," Hadrian shouted, extending his arm toward his friend. "You have to help me. You need to reach with your other hand so I can pull you up."
There was a pause.
"Merrick is dead," Royce said softly.
"I know."
"Gwen is dead."
Hadrian paused, "Yes."
"I-I burned Modina alive."
"Royce, goddamn it! That doesn't matter. Please, look at me."
Slowly, Royce tilted his head up. His hood fell away and tears streaked his cheeks. He refused to meet Hadrian's eyes.
"DON'T DO IT!" Hadrian yelled.
"I-I don't have anything left," Royce muttered, his words almost stolen by the wind. "I don't-"
"Royce, listen to me. You have to hang on. Don't let go. Don't you dare let go. Do you hear me? Are you listening to me, Royce Melborn? You have to hang on, Royce. Please…Give me your hand. Give me your hand!"
Royce's head snapped up. He focused on Hadrian and there was a curious look in his eyes. "What-What did you say?"
"I said I can't reach you. I need your help."
Hadrian extended his arm farther.
Royce sheathed Alverstone and swung his body. The momentum thrust his right hand upward. Hadrian grabbed it and lifted.