The Autumn Republic

Chapter 52

Adamat reined in his horse in the palace gardens, not far from the twisted remains of Skyline Palace’s front doors. He dismounted beside a squad of Adran soldiers tending to their wounded.

“Where’s the field marshal?” he asked.

A captain got to his feet. “He led a company of men inside the palace not fifteen minutes ago. What do you–?” He was cut off by a low rumbling sound. The soldiers exchanged nervous glances.

Adamat replied, “I’m here with news from Adopest. The enemy has been driven off and the new First Minister is safe.”

“Pit, I didn’t even know we were under attack in the city,” the captain said. “We’ve been hunkered down out here all night and morning. Tumblar won the election?”

“He did.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll send a squad in after Field Marshal Tamas to let him know the news.”

There was another rumble and Adamat looked down at his feet. “Did you feel that?”

“Earthquake?” another soldier asked.

“Someone find Colonel Olem,” the captain said. “And find out what the pit that was. If there’s more sorcery about to spew out across the battlefield, he’ll want to know about it.”

Adamat eyed the palace gates and wondered if he should take the news in himself, but quickly dismissed the notion. Best to leave this to the professionals. Last time Adamat charged into a battle he’d gotten stabbed. Twice.

“Get back!” a voice bellowed.

Adamat turned to find a figure running up the road, approaching as fast as a powder mage in a full trance. He was tall and fat and soaked with sweat, his long black hair flying in loose, wet ribbons around his head.

“What is it?” Adamat asked.

“Get everyone back,” Adom shouted. “Now!”

“Who the pit are you?” the captain demanded.

Adom seemed to shimmer and grow, towering over the captain. “I am your god, man, and if you don’t order a full retreat right now, every single one of you will die.”

The order was passed on by a nearby sergeant before the captain could even choke out a reply. He sputtered once, then said, “Tell everyone to get away from the palace. Run!”

Adamat went to Adom’s side. “What’s happening?”

“You remember what happened to South Pike when Kresimir was shot?”

“Yes.”

“That.”

“You’re bloody well joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking, Inspector?” Adom seemed to notice for the first time that his apron had come loose and reached back to retie it. “Faster!” he bellowed. “Get everyone away!”

Though the palace gardens were thick with smoke and confusion, the order seemed to work its way through the Adran lines. Adamat saw a man ride his horse into the palace, straight through the big doors. The ground shook again. A minute later the same man returned, followed by two companies of Adran soldiers hauling their own number of dead and wounded.

Men leapt from palace windows as the tremors came in increasingly more powerful waves, and Adamat had to brace his legs to keep from being thrown to the ground.

“You may want to run, Inspector,” Adom said.

“Will it help?”

Adom seemed to consider this. “No.”

“I’ll stay here, then.” Standing next to a god didn’t seem to be such a bad idea if the world was about to collapse.

The southern wing of Skyline Palace dropped out of sight so suddenly that Adamat leapt back in fright. The section of the building dropped in on itself, and it took a moment for Adamat to realize that the ground itself was falling away, swallowing the palace whole.

The walls caved inward and disappeared, and a plume of plaster dust shot upward from the growing destruction like the steam from an erupting geyser. Adom braced himself, face shining with sweat and grime, legs spread for balance, arms at his sides with palms held open toward the palace, fingers gripping the air. Veins stood out up his arms and his muscles bulged, but whatever sorcery he brought to bear failed to slow the destruction.

Crimson leaked from the corners of Adom’s mouth and nose. A bloody sheen replaced his sweat, and his eyes looked like they might pop from his skull. The wreckage of the silver palace door toppled, swallowed into the widening sinkhole.

Adamat stepped back nervously. That sinkhole showed no sign of stopping, and though he could not see inside, he had the vague perception of depth that made him want to run. He glanced at Adom, whose whole body now trembled like a twig about to snap, and though he was only a Knacked and hardly adept, he could feel the sorcery rolling off of the god.

The sinkhole swallowed more rooms of the palace and continued to widen, reaching toward the throne room and the northern wing. Adamat closed his eyes and stared at the blue sky above him, wishing that he was at home with Faye and his children.

The rumbling stopped. The ground grew still. Scarcely daring to breath, Adamat looked toward the earthen maw and found that it had stopped growing. The air was full of dust and soil, reducing his vision to only fifty yards or so, but he could see the shadow of the northern wing of the palace still standing.

A marble fountain cracked and slid into the sinkhole and then the air went still. Adamat felt as if the entire Adran army had breathed a sigh of relief. Cautiously, the retreating soldiers came to a stop and began to trickle back toward the palace, looking on with horrified curiosity.

“The field marshal!” someone shouted.

Adamat found himself running forward with a dozen soldiers. The dust began to settle and clear as he threw himself to his knees beside the bloody body lying on the gravel drive not far from where the palace door had recently stood.

Field Marshal Tamas was missing a hand, and his clothes were black with blood. The blood on his brow was smeared as if someone had held him. His body lay alone, broken. Adamat pressed his hand to the field marshal’s neck, feeling for a pulse. He felt his stomach fall as he relayed the news. “He’s dead.”

Someone let out a choked sob. The quickly growing crowd split, and Adom plodded to the body, kneeling opposite Adamat. He scooped his arms beneath Tamas, lifting the body the way a child might lift a doll.

“Where’s Taniel Two-Shot?” a soldier asked.

Another shouted, “Get Colonel Olem!”

Adom cleared his throat and looked toward the gaping ruin. “Taniel Two-Shot is dead. There lies his grave. You may look, but you won’t find the body.” He ignored the questions thrust at him by the gathered soldiers and pulled Tamas’s body tight to his chest.

And there, among the ruined splendor of Skyline Palace, Adamat saw a god weep for the hero of Adro.