Iron and Magic

15

Night had fallen, bringing with it an autumn chill. Elara pulled the long blue-and-white shawl around her shoulders and leaned on the wall. Fog had crawled in from the lake, twisting and spilling into the clearing before the castle, thick and milky. The darkness leached the color from the woods and behind the curtain of the fog, the mighty trees looked like a mirage, a careless charcoal sketch on the rough canvas of the night.

Next to her, Rook waited, a silent shadow. He’d come and gotten her a few minutes ago.

In the lower bailey, Hugh and his four centurions pulled the barrels out of storage and loaded them onto a horse-drawn cart.

Elara shifted more of her weight onto the stone. Her feet hurt. It had been a long, long day. First, they’d had to finish evacuating the last of Aberdine’s defenders. She had sent them back to their town fed and clean, with their wounds tended. As much as she wanted to help, Aberdine would have to fend for itself now.

That done, she had inspected their siege fund. The possibility of an attack was always there, and they had stockpiled rations and water since they took over the castle. Grain, dried fruit, dried meat, cheese, canned goods. Their short-term supplies, cheeses, smoked sausages, and so on, everything that wouldn’t keep for too long, looked good. The long-term stockpiles had taken a hit. Several barrels of grain had gotten pantry moths in them somehow, despite being sealed. The entire affected supply went to the livestock. The loss hurt and now they had pantry moths to deal with, which were damn near indestructible. She had to call the witches to fumigate the entire supply house.

At least the water in the cisterns under the castle hadn’t turned foul. They still had the well, but Hugh had been right when he told her on that first day that the well would be a target. Knowing there was an extra supply helped.

Hugh spent most of the day running around the castle like a man possessed, checking the siege engines, healing the last of the wounded, surveying the land around the castle. She saw him only in passing. At some point they’d crossed paths in the kitchen, drawn there by the scent of fresh pirogis. She was on her way in, he was on his way out. They nodded at each other and kept going. Sometime after that, Dugas found her to tell her that Hugh asked for a fog tonight and that he wanted it to look natural. She told the druid to do what he could. And now Hugh was here, doing something with the barrels.

Bale heaved the last barrel in place. Stoyan took the horse by the bridle and walked him forward. The three other centurions followed.

She went down the stairs. Hugh was waiting for her in the lower bailey.

“You promised me you would tell me what was in the barrels, Preceptor. Now you’re sneaking off with them.”

“I told you I’d show you if you played your cards right. You should’ve tried harder last night, sweetheart. With more enthusiasm.”

Oh you jackass. “If you’d impressed me with what you offered, I would’ve tried harder. But a woman can only do so much with mediocre equipment.”

He grinned at her. They strolled through the gates, following the cart.

Stoyan turned the horse left and stopped. Bale and Lamar took the first barrel off and set it on the ground. Bale raised his hands, index and middle fingers crossed. Stoyan knocked on the cart three times, then spat over his left shoulder.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Lamar asked in a low voice.

“For good luck,” Bale told him.

Lamar shook his head. Together they tipped the barrel over the water. Lamar broke the seal, unscrewed the lid, and lowered it into the water. The two men gingerly slid the barrel into the moat and let it sink. Nobody moved.

“Now what?” Elara asked.

“Now we find out if we’re fucked.” Hugh pulled a small metal flask from his pocket, stepped to the edge of the moat over where the barrel had sunk, unscrewed the lid, and poured the dark contents into the water. The dark liquid spread over the surface. Magic slid over Elara like a tepid rotten smear. Vampire blood.

The water lay placid.

Bale waved his crossed fingers around.

The water boiled, as if something large slid underneath it. The red stain vanished.

“Ha!” Bale barked.

“Shhh,” the three other centurions hissed at him.

Stoyan pulled on the horse, leading it around the moat.

“What is it?” she asked.

“What will you give me if I tell you?”

“Hugh,” she ground out.

“Fine. Some years ago, Roland sent me up to Alaska to talk to Ice Fury. It’s the biggest shapeshifter pack in the US. The talks got us nowhere. The Ice Fury shifters are separatists. All they want to do is to run around their woods and be left alone. They spend most of their time in animal form. The way they’re going, in a couple of generations they’ll forget how to be human. So the talks didn’t go as planned, but since I was already in Alaska, I figured why not make a trip of it. We went up North and ended up in Mekoryuk. It’s a city on Nunivak island. Nuniwarmiut people have lived there for two thousand years. While I was there, I met an old woman who told me they weren’t worried about Roland or his vampires, because they had dirty ice and it would protect them. Long story short, I went and got some of that dirty ice. Cutting it out and dragging it back home was a pain in the ass, but I knew Nez or whoever came after him would be gunning for me sooner or later. Here we are.”

The cart stopped, and Felix and Bale took another barrel off. Elara watched as they took off the lid and sank it.

“Yes, but what’s in the ice?”

“A bacterial strain,” Hugh said. “Nasty bugger, highly aggressive. We had to cut down to permafrost to get it. Harmless to humans as far as I can tell. Loves water. Guess what it likes for dinner?”

“Vampires?”

He nodded. “Any undead is fair game.”

“Have you used it before?” she asked.

“We tested it.”

“But not in actual battle?”

“No.”

“So you don’t know if it will work.”

“There are no guarantees in life,” he said.

“Now isn’t the best time to get philosophical, Preceptor.”

“Would you rather have an empty reassurance?”

Yes, she thought. She would. It wouldn’t do her any good, but right now reassurance would be nice. Sadly, nice wasn’t something she could afford at the moment.

“Vampires don’t swim,” he said. “No air in the lungs. They sink to the bottom, so they will have to wade through. Considering the distance and typical vampire speed under water, they are likely to be under between ten and twenty seconds. In lab trials, that was enough to cause critical damage. The trick is raising the concentration high enough. The higher the concentration, the more effective the bacteria will be. The bacteria will need food to multiply. Our supplies of undead blood are limited.”

“We have some blood and bones in storage. We’ll add what we can.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you think it will be long enough?” she asked.

“We will find out,” he said.

They followed the cart again. Dread settled on Elara and weighed her down. Two more weeks. Less now, one week and six days. There were other preparations to be made. The preparation for when everything went wrong. The memory of the ice flickered over her mind. She didn’t want to do it again. She didn’t want to remember what it was like but knowing she might have to gnawed at her.

“What if we sank some concertina wire?” she asked. “It’s a long flexible razor wire that comes in coils. Military grade.”

“I know what concertina wire is. How much do you have?”

“I don’t know. It comes in 50-foot bails,” she said. “We have a warehouse of it.”

He stared at her.

“We bought it off a derelict prison,” she said. “We meant to use it as a wolf deterrent, but wildlife and livestock kept getting caught in it and it was cruel, so we didn’t.”

He looked to the sky and laughed.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.”

He turned to her. “I’m trying to save us. Had I known we had concertina wire, I would’ve planned our defenses differently.”

She shrugged.

“I can’t effectively protect us if you keep relevant information from me,” he said.

“You seem to be doing fine,” she told him.

“You really are a harpy, you know that?”

“If you want to know if we have something, Preceptor, I suggest you use your words and ask. We do not volunteer information, because we don’t trust you. The only way to change that is by demonstrating your intentions and following through.”

Hugh shook his head. “I had a crazy thought.”

“By all means, do share it.”

“What if I’m dead and this is purgatory, and you’re my punishment?”

“I doubt it,” she told him.

“Why?”

“Because if I’m your punishment, you’re mine. The Christian god is the god of forgiveness. He is too kind to do this, even to us.”

He laughed again.

The fog parted, and a creature landed next to them, a shaggy, dark meld of human and wolf. The shapeshifter contorted, collapsing into a human shape. A nude woman shook herself, as if trying to fling the last of the fur from her skin. Karen, Elara remembered. One of Hugh’s scouts.

“Found them,” she said. “Fifteen clicks north at the Rooster ley line point.”

High turned to her. “Call your people. We have a strategy to plan.”

Elara slumped in the chair. Her feet still hurt. She nudged her sandals off, let them drop, and curled her toes.

The study was full. Savannah sat in an overstuffed chair to Elara’s right, perfectly dressed, her make up unsmudged. The only indication of the late hour was her loose hair that framed her face like a halo. Johanna perched on the table to Elara’s left, in her usual spot. Stoyan sat next to Savannah. He’d glanced in Johanna’s direction once when he came in and then proceeded to look everywhere else. Not fooling anyone. Across from Stoyan, Bale, who had come in a few minutes ago looking hung over, slumped forward in his chair, his head on the table, resting on his crossed arms. Felix, a quiet shadow, leaned against the wall behind Bale. Karen, the female werewolf scout, paced the length of the study, newly dressed.

Across from Elara, at the other end of the table, Hugh studied Baile’s map. He looked thoughtful. Hugh could twist his face into any expression he wanted. The man was a chameleon. She had seen him go from terrifying to aw shucks, I’m just a dumb oaf in a blink, but the unguarded moments like this, when he forgot to put on a show, and his intelligence shone through, were her favorite.

Favorite. Ugh. She snapped herself back to reality. It was the fatigue. She was so tired, she could barely see straight.

Lamar hurried into the room, Dugas following him. She had a feeling those two plotted together a lot more than anyone realized.

“Bale?” Stoyan asked.

The berserker snored.

“Is he hung over?” Elara asked quietly.

“No. It’s the battle warp,” Hugh said. “Wears him out.”

Johanna leaned forward, trying to read their lips. Elara signed to her, recounting the conversation.

“He’s good for a bit, but then he crashes,” Lamar added.

Hugh took a carafe from the table, poured a cup of black coffee, walked over to Bale, and put his hand on Bale’s shoulder.

The berserker raised his head, blinking his eyes.

Hugh put the coffee in front of him.

Bale nodded, sniffled, and gulped the coffee.

“You all know why you’re here,” Hugh said. “We have a date with Landon Nez in two weeks. Karen?”

“He is camped at the Rooster ley point,” the werewolf said. “There isn’t much there except a small village, a couple dozen buildings at most and a supply station.”

“Slow down,” Elara told her. She had gotten adept at signing over the years, but she was tired and thinking and signing at the same time took all of her concentration.

“Sorry.” The werewolf continued slower. “The security is tight, so I couldn’t get close. He’s shipping vampires in twenty-foot metal freight containers, five per container. I counted twenty-four containers, and more were coming in.”

A hundred and twenty vampires. A single vampire was not an issue. Ten vampires would be too much even for her. Ripping their magic out took an effort, and while she was busy with the first five, the rest of them would get by her, scale the walls, get into the castle… If Hugh’s water trap didn’t work, and even fifty vampires made it over the wall, Baile would become a killing box, even with all of the Iron Dogs in it.

She checked Hugh’s face. He didn’t seem worried.

“How many people?” Lamar asked.

“Too many,” Karen said. “I’d estimate at least three hundred if not more. The place was dead last time we surveilled it and now it’s Saturday morning market.”

“He is bringing the entire Legion?” Stoyan asked.

“Probably,” Hugh said.

“Lots of black and purple,” Karen said. “He definitely brought the Cleaning Crew.”

“The Cleaning Crew?” Savannah asked.

“The Legion has three components,” Lamar explained. “The navigators, which are Masters of the Dead and the journeymen; the undead; and the Cleaning Crew, human shock troops that follow the vampires and kill anything they leave behind.”

“How good are they?” Dugas asked.

“Decent,” Stoyan said. “Not a problem for us one-on-one.”

“It’s never one-on-one,” Bale said. “It’s always one of us and four of them.”

“The Cleaning Crew is expendable,” Hugh said. “Nez is pragmatic. Undead are expensive, humans are cheap.”

“Also,” Karen said, “I saw Halliday.”

Bale cursed.

“Are you sure?” Lamar asked.

“I’m sure,” Karen said. “It was her. Unless you know some other middle-aged dark-haired bitch, who travels with Nez and carries around a pair of Chinese crested dogs.”

“You saw the dogs?” Felix asked.

“Saw, smelled, heard. It’s Halliday.”

Elara looked at Hugh.

“Beastmaster,” he said. “Roland likes to use magical animals in his wars. She is his wrangler.”

“What kind of magical beasts?” Dugas asked.

“An elephant the size of a cruise ship with three heads and tusks that shoot lightning,” Bale volunteered.

“There is no such thing,” Savannah told him.

“There is,” Stoyan told her. “It’s called Erawan. We’ve seen it.”

Johanna knocked on the table.

They looked at her.

“Seriously?”

Stoyan held up his fist, and made a downward motion, imitating a nodding head. He was signing, “Yes.” He did it in a hesitant fashion, the way those who have just started learning ASL sometimes second-guessed themselves.

Johanna grinned at him.

“You should see the size of its shit,” Bale said. “It’s a truckload.”

“This tells us two things,” Hugh said. “One, Nez will come at us during magic. Two, Roland let him pull on his other resources, which means Nez took this to Roland and Roland approved this fight.”

“This changes things,” Lamar said.

“How so?” Savannah asked.

“Nez was content to ignore us,” Hugh said. “Something happened to bump us up to the head of his queue.”

She knew exactly what it was. “Aberdine.”

Everyone looked at her. Savannah raised her hands and took over the signing.

“You protected Aberdine against a significant magic force,” Elara said. “You’re a fighting unit again. An army and a threat. He thought he could come and kill all of you at will, but now he can’t.”

She saw the calculation in Hugh’s eyes. He shook his head. “I doubt it. Did Nez ever explain why he wanted the castle?”

“No,” Savannah said. “He just offered to buy it again and again.”

“Maybe there is something here that he needs?” Stoyan wondered.

“I can’t imagine what it would be,” Elara said honestly.

“Let’s table that for now,” Hugh said. “Before we start planning, are there any ways into the castle that I’m not aware off? Hidden passages, secret tunnels?”

Dugas glanced at her. Elara nodded. Yes, give him the thing. Hugh was an infuriating sonovabitch and a bastard, but he would protect them to the bitter end. Baile was the only home he knew now.

Dugas reached into his robe and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it once, twice, a third time, and spread it on the table. A complex drawing in black ink marked the large piece of paper: a central ring, from which lines spread out like spokes from a wheel. The lines started straight, then curved, lopped and intersected each other, twisting together into a complex maze.

“What am I looking at?” Hugh asked.

“Tunnels,” Dugas said helpfully.

Hugh and the centurions peered at the map.

“Is all of this under us?” Hugh asked, pointing at the map.

“Yes.” Dugas nodded.

“Fuck me,” Hugh said.

Elara almost laughed.

“Why?” Lamar asked, his eyes wide.

“We didn’t dig them out,” Elara said. “They were already here when we moved in.”

Hugh fixed her with a stare. “Were you planning on telling me about the damn tunnels?”

She pretended to ponder it. “Possibly.”

“Would you like to tell me now?”

“There are tunnels under the castle, Hugh.”

“There it is. Thank you.” If sarcasm was liquid, she would be up to her ankles in it.

“You’re welcome.”

They glared at each other across the table.

Dugas cleared his throat.

“Is there anything else you would like to disclose?” Hugh asked. “Do the gates open when someone says a magic word?”

“Not that I know of,” she told him. “Why don’t you scream some magic words at the gates for a while and tell me how it turns out?”

Dugas cleared his throat again.

“I heard you the first time,” she told him.

“Do any of these actually come up to the surface?” Hugh tapped the map with his finger.

“We don’t know,” Dugas said.

“We’ve tried mapping them several times, but we end up turned around,” Elara said. “There is only one way from the tunnels into the castle though, and it’s through this ring.” She traced the outline of the circular tunnel for him.

“This is a huge security risk,” Lamar said. “Do you actually use these tunnels for anything?”

“Those who go into the tunnels don’t always come back,” Johanna told him.

Lamar turned to Elara.

“She said that those who go into the tunnels don’t always come back.”

“Why?” Hugh asked.

Elara sighed. I wish I knew.

“We don’t know,” Savannah said. “Don’t worry about it. We can handle the tunnels.”

Hugh leaned forward. “Here is how this assault will go. The attack will come in the evening.”

“How do you know that?” Elara asked.

“I’ve prepared to fight Nez for years. He is a cheapskate. Even the youngest vampire he has costs upward of fifty grand to produce. He will attempt to intimidate us into surrendering by fielding a lot of undead at once. He will follow that with a phone call and a show of force designed to convince us to surrender. When that fails, he will rush the castle with his vanguard. He will count on the psychological impact of this force and our awareness that the sun is setting, and soon it will be dark, and we will be defenseless. If the moat does its job, we can repel this assault.”

“If?” Savannah raised her eyebrows.

“If,” Hugh said. “If the moat doesn’t soften them up, it will get ugly. However, it is unlikely he will commit more than fifty vampires. He typically brings between two and three hundred vampires...”

Elara startled. Three hundred vampires. She couldn’t even wrap her head around that many undead.

“Yes?” Hugh asked.

“Nothing. Continue.”

“And since he knows he will be fighting the Iron Dogs, we can count on the top range of that number. It’s highly unlikely he would send more than a quarter of his force. Fifty is a nice round number and Nez likes round numbers.”

Hugh tapped the map of Baile. “He will send the mass of undead straight at the front gate. Even if the moat fails, we can take fifty vampires. We will bleed but we can take them. Once that assault fails, Nez will do something loud and theatrical. He might field beasts or pull some mages out of his sleeve. Whatever form this new threat will take, it will be designed to keep our attention focused front and center. Meanwhile, his crews, which will have been digging since before the fight started, will be breaking into the castle tunnels from below. The vampires are fast diggers, and he might bring specialized help to speed things up. While we are trying to hold off whatever it is battering us from the front, the undead will make their way into the castle and massacre us from the rear.”

Hugh fixed Savannah with his stare. “So, when you say don’t worry about the tunnels, I need you to be very sure.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Elara said.

“Okay,” Hugh said.

She opened her mouth to argue and realized he didn’t say anything else. “Then that’s settled.”

“Can we attack Nez directly?” Savannah asked.

“Unlikely,” Lamar told her. “For things like these, Nez travels in a convoy of Matadors. A Matador is an 8x8 armored personnel carrier, nine meters long, three meters tall, and almost three meters wide. It has a monocoque V-hull, which means its nose and hull slope to deflect projectiles.”

Lamar held his left hand in front of him, palm up, and touched the fingertips of his right hand to it, forming a sideways V.

“It sits a driver and passenger in the front and can transport up to ten personnel in the back. Level four armor, suspended seats, blast mitigation floor, all the works. It can trench at two meters, ford a stream a meter deep, climb steps and steep hills, and it turns on a dime for a vehicle of its size. It runs like a dream during tech, but it chugs along during magic as well. It also can be set up to carry either a 50 cal or a sorcerous ballista, depending on your preference. Nez has a fleet of them.”

“We used to have them too,” Stoyan said. “The long and short of it, Matadors are unbreachable by anything we have. We could probably drop a rock on it from above and crush it, but we don’t have a catapult precise enough to do it.”

“We need to do something about the approach from the northeastern side,” Hugh said. “We are missing a siege engine on the corner tower. It requires specialized parts.”

“Is it a budget issue?” Elara asked.

“No, it’s an availability issue,” Hugh said.

“We have it on order in Lexington,” Lamar said. “We traded some silver we recovered for it. It won’t be ready in time.”

“We’ll have to compensate with archers,” Hugh said.

“We can dig some fortifications there,” Stoyan said. “It may slow down the Cleaning Crew, but it won’t do anything against vampires.”

“We could plant tangle weed,” Savannah said.

Good idea. Elara turned to Johanna. “How much do we have?”

“Enough,” Johanna signed.

“Can this tangle weed hold a vampire?” Bale asked.

“Yes, if there is enough of it,” Dugas said.

“Where would you need it planted?” Savannah leaned toward the map.

The rest of the advisors leaned in, and Elara met Hugh’s eyes.

Three hundred vampires.

He winked at her.

For some reason the wink took the dread right out of her. She rolled her eyes and leaned forward to take a glance at the map.

Elara stared at the roster of families. Around her the bailey bustled with life, people going to and fro, trying to squeeze as much as they could out of the fading evening light. They had two days until the deadline, but it was collectively decided that Nez couldn’t be trusted farther than they could throw him, so they’d been pulling people into the castle, in stages. Children with caretakers first, then older people, now finally the able-bodied adults. She squeezed the first wave into the left barracks, praising the source of all life that they had renovated the place when the Iron Dogs joined them. Once the barracks filled, they put the next wave into the utility buildings behind the keep, then into the chapel building, which they had converted into living quarters. Baile was so crowded, it was bursting at the seams.

“Is the chapel completely full?” she asked.

“Almost,” Johanna signed.

Elara sighed, studying the roster. “We’re going to have to start putting sleeping bags in the keep hallway. On the second floor—”

Johanna touched her arm. Elara looked up. Serenity Helton was walking toward them, oblivious to the people scurrying all around her, a blank look on her face. Elara’s heart dropped. She hurried forward and grabbed Serenity’s hands. “What is it?”

The seer stared at her unblinking. Her lips moved, but no sound came.

Johanna grabbed Elara’s arm. “Coming! Now!”

“What?”

“She is saying ‘they are coming’ over and over!”

The anxiety that clamped Elara over the last few days burst in a scalding rush.

“Hurry,” she whispered, sending her voice through the entire castle. “They’re coming. Hurry.”

The people scattered. In the village a bell rang. Hugh came running around the corner.

“Nez is coming,” she told him, pointing at Serenity.

He glanced at the seer and spun off, barking orders. Elara climbed the steps to the outer wall and then to the top of the flanking tower. From here, she could see the entire village. People ran, streaming to the castle.

She turned to Johanna. “Find Magdalene. Take her to the tunnels.”

Johanna took off at a run.

The village emptied as people rushed to Baile.

Come on, she urged in her head. Come on.

Iron Dogs poured out of the gate, forming a protective line, shielding the evacuees. On top of the keep and on the towers, the ballistae and catapult teams cranked the massive siege weapons. She heard chanting, almost in unison, as the artillery teams primed the sorcerous bolts.

Shapeshifters burst out of the woods, running at top speed toward the castle – Hugh’s scouts coming in.

Seconds crept by, echoing the beating of her heart. Come on.

Creatures streamed out of the woods, like an evil river, flowing in rivulets between the trunks to flood the grass. Vampires. Hundreds and hundreds of vampires, smeared with sunblock in green, blue, and red.

The Iron Dogs unsheathed their weapons.

She tried desperately to sort through the people running to the gates. Did they get everyone? Was someone missing? She couldn’t tell.

The vampires kept coming and coming, widening in a crescent, blending together into a monstrous mass, terrifying, stinking of magic that shouldn’t have existed. Endless.

Hugh was right. If they hadn’t had the warning, they might have panicked. Even she, with all of her power, had to fight a shiver. In a couple of hours the sun would set, and the monstrous horde would roll over the castle. Next to her Johanna squeezed her fingers into fists and relaxed them again.

The evacuees slowed to a trickle. Did they get everyone? Anxiety boiled in her. She tried to count the vampires to keep her mind focused. Three, five, eight, ten…

Hugh ran up the stairs and loomed next to her, his expression hard.

“You were right,” she told him.

“This day was a long time coming,” Hugh told her.

Beth ran up to the tower. “There is a phone call for you.”

“Is it Nez?”

“Yes, lady.”

“Right on schedule,” Hugh said. “See if you can piss him off. He doesn’t think clearly when he’s angry.”

“I can do that.”

“Oh, I know you can. Have fun, love.”

Elara turned and walked down the stairs, forcing herself to move slowly. The longer she took getting to the phone, the more time she bought them. Finally, she reached the front office. Lamar and Dugas waited by the phone.

Elara took the phone. “You’re two days early.”

“You have been fortifying,” Nez said with clinical precision.

“We had an agreement. You broke it. If you can’t keep a simple deadline, what guarantee can you offer that you will honor any other agreements?”

“I’m giving you this one last chance to avoid bloodshed. Consider the fate of your people. Consider the children’s lives. Once I clear the wall, I cannot guarantee anyone’s safety.”

“You’re not listening to me,” she told him. “Go back to where you came from and come back in two days. That was the agreement. You made it with me and I will hold you to it.”

Incredulous silence filled the phone. Lamar grinned.

“You will regret this,” Nez said.

“No,” she told him. “But you will. You’re full of it. You want to negotiate with me, but clearly you can’t be trusted.”

“You actually expect me to withdraw and come back in two days?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Do you even have the authority to negotiate, Landon?”

“I have all the authority.”

“It seems to me that you don’t. I understand that you negotiated with Hayville in Nebraska and then the town burned to the ground.”

Nez’s voice came out clipped, each word razor-sharp. “I didn’t burn Hayville. Your husband did.”

“Precisely. It didn’t matter what deals you made, because there is a higher authority above you that actually makes decisions. You are a servant, Landon. A glorified gofer. We are defending our home. You are just carrying out orders.”

Dugas clamped his hand over his mouth.

“I’m not even mad at you, Landon. Everyone has a job they have to do. But don’t waste my time again trying to negotiate. You have no power to do it.”

“I will take your castle,” Nez said. His voice sent a chill down her spine. “I will tear it apart brick by brick. Then I will make you watch as I personally cut the throat of every man, woman, and child that survives the assault.”

“Do you know why Hugh burned Hayville? Because you couldn’t do it. My husband is better than you.”

“You’re a stupid whore.”

“There goes the mask of civility. Roland had only two Warlords, but you are the twenty-third Legatus of the Golden Legion. Do you know why? It’s because Hugh is beloved by his soldiers, while you are reviled by the Masters of the Dead. Every man under his command would die for him, while the people who serve you can’t wait to stick a knife in your back.”

“I’ll make sure it takes you weeks to die.”

“Hugh is a better general, a better fighter, and a better man. You’re second best. You will always be second best. You’re replaceable. One day one of your helpers will kill you and take your place, and Roland won’t blink an eye, while Hugh is one of a kind. Oh and his dick is bigger than yours.”

A disconnect signal cut off the call.

Lamar clapped and bowed.

She dropped the phone back into its place and turned back to the wall. There were too many people between her and the tower for magic, so she hurried on foot, across the bailey, up the stairs, back to the top of the flanking tower, where Hugh waited. The entire clearing before the tree line was filled with undead.

“How did it go?” Hugh asked.

“He’s frothing at the mouth.”

“That’s my girl.” He grinned at her.

The last of the stragglers made it through the gates. The Iron Dogs had followed, and the massive drawbridge rose up, blocking the entrance.

A clump of vampires shot out from the main mass of the undead and fell apart, revealing two people tied to crosses, naked from the waist up. The one on the left, a woman, wore the black shreds of an Iron Dog uniform. The one on the right slumped over, his gray curly hair stained with blood.

Oscar.

Oh no.

Elara really pissed Nez off.

Usually Nez would have held back the hostages, waiting to see if he could use them as bargaining chips at the right moment, but instead he dragged them out into plain view, blinded by the need to hit back. Whatever she said to him, he wanted to punish her for it.

The lone Iron Dog on the cross glared at the vampires. Irina. She’d been out by the southern edge of the town, scouting to the rear. That meant the digging crew likely grabbed her. Nez would be digging in from the southwest.

Fury boiled inside Hugh. He hated to lose Irina, hated that her life was over, hated that Nez was the one who took it. If only he could get his hands on that bastard. Hugh stared at the woods behind the undead. Nez was out there somewhere, sipping coffee in his Matador.

None of the front scouting team had made it either. He saw the scouts from the East and West teams, but none from the North. That meant none survived.

Next to him Elara had gone completely still. Her eyes narrowed, measuring the distance between her and the old man on the cross. She was thinking of rushing the field. He put his hand on her shoulder, anchoring her in place.

“No.”

She ignored him.

“Elara!”

She turned to look at him, and cold shot through him. Her eyes were pure white.

“Too many and too far,” he told her.

“I know,” she ground out.

Savannah’s voice cut through the noise of the bailey behind them. “To the wall! Come to the wall!”

All around them the villagers streamed to the wall, climbing up the stairs. Men, women, parents lifting small children on their shoulders, they lined up as if for a parade, watching the two people on the crosses. Those who didn’t fit ran into the keep and filed out onto the curtain wall and balconies. More still waited in the bailey.

“Don’t look away,” Savannah called out.

“You must witness and remember,” Dugas yelled from the other side.

The Departed held still and silent. The hair on the back of Hugh’s neck rose. There was something unnatural in the way they stared, passing judgment on the undead below.

The vampire sitting by the older man jumped up. Sickle claws flashed and ripped him from breastbone to waist. Entrails spilled out, hanging from his body in grotesque garlands. The man screamed, a short guttural sound. Elara didn’t move a muscle.

No sound came from the wall. They looked on just as she did, bearing silent witness.

“Do not look away,” Savannah said into the silence.

“Watch and remember,” Dugas echoed.

The old man screamed and screamed.

A second vampire tore the stomach of the Iron Dog, spilling her innards. Irina howled. It was the long ululating howl the Iron Dogs made when they rode in battle. A chorus of howls answered from inside the castle, the Dogs acknowledging their own.

Hugh turned, finding Yvonne on top of the west gate tower. Their stares connected.

The archery commander whipped back. Two crossbow bolts ripped the air, glowing with magic. The first took Oscar in the throat. The second sank into the Iron Dog’s chest. The sorcerous bolts buzzed and exploded. Two people next to Yvonne lowered their crossbows. One of them, slight and short, glanced at him, and Hugh recognized Alex Tong.

The wall stayed silent.

“His name is Landon Nez,” Elara said, her voice snaking through the crowd.

A chant rose from the villagers.

“Landon Nez.”

“Landon Nez.”

Emotion poured out of a thousand throats, indignation and anger melded into a furious mix. Even the children chanted. Hugh saw Stoyan on another tower, looking around wild-eyed.

“We are one,” Elara whispered next to him. “We are the Departed.”

He felt something rise from the collective chant, something vicious and furious and unimaginably ancient.

“Landon Nez.”

A shimmer gathered above the crowd as if the air along the wall had suddenly grown hot. The edge of it brushed him. Ghostly howls echoed in his head and broke into a primitive, savage snarl. He jerked back on instinct.

“LANDON NEZ.”

The invisible thing tore free of the wall and hurled itself at the tree line. Trees jerked, as if grasped by an invisible hand. Birds shot out of the woods, screeching. Something thudded, metal whined, and a siren blared. He recognized the sound – it belonged to the People’s Armored Troop Transports.

Next to him Elara stood, her teeth clenched.

Okay. First things first. He would win this battle and then he would figure out what the hell she was and what he had gotten himself and his people into.

“Did you get him?” he asked.

“No,” she said, her expression hard. “But we rattled his cage.”

On the field below, vampires became utterly still. Standard protocol as the navigators waited for orders. They only had a few minutes before Nez shook the surprise off.

A charge was coming.

“Everyone not in uniform off the wall!” Hugh roared.

The blast of sound took her by surprise and Elara jerked. The villagers scattered, running down the stairs.

“You know where to be!” Elara called out. “To your places!”

In the bailey Savannah and Dugas herded people into the buildings.

Next to Hugh, Sam put his mouth to the horn and blew a high-pitched note. The Iron Dogs took up positions on the wall, fighting against the current of her people.

“Artillery, fire at will,” Hugh ordered.

Sam blew a new note, a harsh war call. The ballistae creaked, the strings of the massive bows twanged, and sorcerous bolts shrieked, tearing the air. A couple of undead jerked, suddenly impaled. Most had dodged, but the emerald green bolt heads exploded with magic, throwing dirt, rocks, and gaunt bodies.

The vampire wave gathered in the clearing before the trees crested and surged toward Baile. Fear pierced the back of Elara’s neck.

There were more than fifty. There had to be.

One of the Iron Dogs on top of the gate tower spun around. Hanzi covered her face, drawn in blue ink. She twisted, flexible and fluid like water, and came to rest on one foot, all her weight on her bent back leg, her right leg bent in front of her at an angle, toes barely touching the ground. Her right arm stretched to the sky, hand horizontal as if she was trying to press it against the clouds. Her left arm, bent at the elbow, guarded her chest.

The massive catapult on top of the keep whined. A rock the size of a small car streaked over their heads. The undead scattered, making a hole in their ranks. The stone thudded into it.

The woman moved, fast like a whip, snapping into a new pose, and spat a single word.

The stone pulsed with orange and exploded. Rock shrapnel pelted the undead. Some fell, but more were coming, fast, scurrying forward like ugly twisted lizards.

The ballistae spat more bolts. The air smelled of sorcerous smoke, crackling with expended magical energy. It felt as if she were caught in some magical storm made of explosions, screams, and war horns. It called on her to do something, to run, to scream, to kill. She glanced at Hugh. He stood next to her, immovable like a rock, his face almost relaxed.

“Archers, fire at will.”

The horn howled.

The first line of vampires jumped into the moat and sank. One by one they dove down, disappearing into the water, while the archers peppered them with bolts and arrows.

She leaned against the parapet to get a better look. Everything rode on this moment.

Nothing. Only placid water.

Hugh leaned forward, his expression impassive.

A hint of dark red floated to the surface from the moat’s depths. The water boiled, and the color vanished.

Seconds ticked by, slow and viscous.

One.

Two.

Five.

Ten.

She fought with herself to stand still.

Fifteen.

The water at the inner edge of the moat swirled. A vampire emerged. It dragged itself forward, its movements sluggish, reached with one long muscular arm, hooked its claws into the wall, and pulled itself up. She watched it climb slowly, each stretch an effort. It was almost directly under her now.

Elara backed away.

The undead heaved itself over the wall onto the tower. It landed heavily on the stones. The flesh on its frame sagged, as if it had gone liquid under its hide.

It worked. It actually worked.

The vampire swayed.

Hugh stepped forward, pulling his sword out and striking in a single explosive move. The black blade sliced through the vampire’s torso, cleaving it in two. Black, foul smelling fluid gushed on to the wall. The top half of the undead tumbled back into the moat.

Hugh grabbed the bottom half by the leg and hurled it over the wall. A splash followed.

She sidestepped the dark puddle and looked over the wall. All along the moat vampires staggered to the wall, slow and shaking. Some moved faster, others slower.

Blood red sparks shot out of the trees, a meteorite shower in reverse.

Hugh grabbed her hand and jerked her down, covering her with his body. A red missile shrieked through the air, landed in the bailey, and exploded. The walls of Baile shuddered. Red fire splashed on the wall to the left of them and an Iron Dog vanished in the glow with a sharp cry. All around them the magic missiles fell with a high-pitched whine, crashing against the stones of Baile.

Elara wedged herself against the wall, trying to make herself smaller.

Hugh grinned at her. “Fun!”

The man was a maniac. She had married a raving lunatic.

A deep bellow shook the castle, as if some god blew an enormous trumpet.

Hugh raised his head and she squirmed from under him, trying to see.

The trees snapped, parting. Something snaked between the crowns, a long dark thing that swung and coiled. It caught a tree and yanked it out of the ground, turning it sideways. Clumps of soil rained down from the root ball. The tree flew aside and through the gap Elara saw a moving darkness. It leaned left, then right, still hidden by the forest. Five-foot wide trunks snapped like toothpicks and crashed aside, carrying branches with them, giving way to something impossibly large. A blunt head emerged, level with the top of the forest canopy and crowned by a mesh of braided golden ropes, each as thick as her wrist. A brilliant blue jewel embedded in the flesh sat in the middle of the forehead, where the net came to a point. Two more heads joined it and a creature emerged into the open. It had three heads, each flanked by wide ears. Six ivory tusks thrust into the air, each large enough to impale and carry off a truck. Its hide was solid black, as if it swallowed the evening sunlight.

Erawan.

The colossal elephant took a step forward. The armored cabin on its neck rocked. A huge chain was coiled around his legs. The ground shook. Lightning dashed along Erawan’s hide, spattering in bursts of electric blue, and in the light of those explosions, Elara saw long white scars crossing the elephant’s hide.

Armed people emerged from the woods, ants next to a giant, and trotted toward the castle. Above him, a rain cloud boiled, just large enough to cover the hill. It ended abruptly, and beyond it the sky was the clear beautiful blue of early evening.

“Elara,” Hugh called.

She felt Erawan’s mind, dark and turbulent like a storm cloud. It called to her.

“Elara!”

She reached out and brushed the edge of the storm with a wisp of her power. Agony exploded in her mind, images bursting one after another: blood on the tusks, bodies under feet, the trumpet screams, flesh and bone collapsing under the immense weight, forehead smashing a house wall and emerging streaked with concrete dust, blood and rain, buildings, shredded and destroyed, people, tossed and trampled, pain, chains, and blood, the stench, the feel, the vivid red of human blood.

“Honey!” Hugh snarled in her ear.

She jerked, breaking the contact, and clamped her hand over her mouth. The horror of it stained her.

Hugh gripped her shoulder, turning her toward him. “That is a big ass distraction. Nez is going to milk it for all it’s got. He wouldn’t have deployed it, if the digging crew weren’t closing in. I need you in the tunnels.”

“He’s divine.”

“What?”

“Erawan. He is divine.”

“Yes, I know. Tunnels, Elara.”

“You can’t kill him.”

Hugh patted her shoulder. “Of course, I can. I can and I will.”

“No!” she grabbed his hand, desperate. “He’s enslaved. He’s suffering. You can’t kill him.”

He stared at her. “Elara, you’re killing me. It’s a giant fucking elephant, who is going to knock down our walls in about five minutes.”

“It’s not his fault!”

Hugh squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment.

“Promise me you won’t kill him. Promise me, Hugh, and I’ll go into the tunnels. Please!”

Hugh opened his eyes, clenched his fist, unclenched it, and said, “Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise,” he ground out. “Now, please go to the tunnels.”

She ran down the steps. Behind her, Hugh roared. “Find Dugas! Get me that fucking druid!”

Elara hurried down the stairs. The winding stone stairway curved, burrowing lower and lower, and finally came to an end in a heavy wood and metal door. It stood wide open. Elara walked through it. A round chamber waited, walls and floor stone. Torches and fey lanterns glowed on the wall, flooding the space with so much light, they put electric bulbs to shame. Four arched doorways punctured the wall at even intervals, leading from the chamber into a circular hallway ringing the chamber in a semicircle.

In the middle of the floor a twelve-year-old blond girl sat cross-legged, holding on to a teddy bear. Johanna stood next to her.

Elara joined them. “Anything?”

“Three.” Magdalena raised three fingers. “One here.” She pointed directly ahead. “One there.” The finger moved slightly to the right. “And one there.” Far right.

Above them something thudded. Elara looked up.

“What’s going on?” Johanna signed.

“Elephant,” Elara explained and crouched by Magdalena. “How far are they, honey?”

Magdalena hugged her bear, concentrating. “Getting closer. They’re fast. Very fast.”

Vampires. Had to be. Killing vampires required an effort. It wasn’t as easy as ripping out a human soul. She could kill mrogs by simple touch. She would have to concentrate on the undead. Elara took a deep breath. She’d never had to kill them in bulk.

Another thud. A puff of dust broke off the ceiling.

“They broke into a hallway,” Magdalena said. “They are still far, but they’re coming faster now. There.” She pointed to the far right.

Elara looked at Johanna. “Take her out and bar the door.”

Johanna shook her head. “No.”

“Yes. We might need your power. If they get through me, you are the last line of defense.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Johanna, nothing about today has anything to do with want. Your power is vital. We will use it as a last resort only.” “Go,” she said for emphasis.

Quick steps echoed through the stairs behind them. Bale ran into the chamber, carrying his mace. Four Iron Dogs followed him, two men and two women. The best of the berserkers.

“What are you doing here?” Elara asked.

“We are your support,” Bale said.

Hugh had sent backup.

“Leave,” she said.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we can’t do that. We will obey your orders, but we have to stay,” Bale said.

“What do you fear, Bale?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” he said.

“You will fear after today,” she said.

The berserker gripped his mace. “We have our orders.”

“What did he say?” Johanna asked.

“Hugh sent him to guard me.”

“They’re coming,” Magdalena said. “They are close.”

“Take her out now,” Elara signed to Johanna. “Bar the door. Do this for me. Please.”

The witch took Magdalena by the hand and led her outside. The door shut, and the heavy metal bar thudded into place.

“Stand against the wall,” Elara said. “Do not move. Do not speak.”

Bale opened his mouth.

“My husband told you to obey my orders. Obey.”

The Iron Dogs flattened themselves against the wall on both sides of the door. Elara straightened. Her magic uncoiled within her.

The first vampire dashed sideways behind the doorway, a grotesque shadow, silent like a ghost.

She pulled the bracelet off her left wrist and dropped it to the floor. The metal sometimes interfered.

More undead crowded into the hallway.

Her fingers paused over her wedding ring. She grasped it, slipped it off, and held it out to Bale. The berserker held his palm out. She dropped the ring into it. “Keep it safe for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The leading vampire stepped forward. Its maw gaped open and a precise male voice came through. “There is no need for senseless bloodshed. We have the superior numbers.”

She knew how she looked to them. A single human woman, dressed in white, not particularly large or imposing. An easy target.

“Turn around.” Elara pulled the metal clasp out of her hair and it tumbled to her shoulders. “Leave and your minds will survive.”

“Team three,” the vampire said. “Engage hostiles.”

Elara pulled on her magic and punched the floor with it, drenching the chamber in her power. Tendrils of ethereal smoke curled from the stones, glowing with white. The walls shook. The hem of her white gown melted into the curls of magic, merging with it, as she acknowledged the power that was ancient before humans had named it.

It was part of her. But she would never let herself become part of it.

The first undead lunged at her. She caught it in midleap. It hung there, its throat in her hand, its navigator stunned. Then she opened her mouth and showed it her real teeth, and the human behind the vampire’s mind screamed, the echo of his voice pouring out of the undead’s throat.

The red ball of sorcerous fire splashed over the keep’s wall and exploded, sizzling down. Hugh held his hands out, channeling the magic into the second of four blistered bodies lying in front of him. The blue glow bathed the closest Iron Dog. Ken Gamble, taking short desperate breaths, his dark skin blistered and torn.

Third degree burns, posterior neck, upper back, left upper chest, left lower back, and dorsal side of both upper and lower extremities… He sank the magic in, repairing the cooked tissues.

Nez had resumed the bombardment. Erawan’s bulk hampered the ballistae set on top of his Matadors somewhat, but they must’ve fanned out to shoot around him. The elephant was moving at a crawl. Nez was trying to buy time.

Elara would handle it. Bale would help.

Hugh had lost the engine and half of her crew on the north flanking tower. The other half moaned on the ground in front of him.

Another cluster of explosions drowned the gate towers. Hugh craned his neck to check the artillery. Both catapults still survived.

The Iron Dog’s breathing evened, as his skin sloughed off, revealing a new healthy layer. Hugh moved on to Iris, who was next down the line. Ken pushed upright.

“Reinforce the gate crews,” Hugh told him.

The Iron Dog rolled to his feet, grabbed his sword, and took off for the gate.

Second degree burns, face, neck, upper chest…

His arm “hummed”, the magic vibrating through him. Hugh squeezed his fist to get the blood pumping and concentrated on healing.

Another blast. Dugas dashed along the wall and dropped down next to Hugh. “Where do you want it?”

“On the walls, directly across from where he will hit us.”

“Some of those are poisonous.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Dugas nodded and waved his arm. People ran along the wall, carrying sacks and plastic bags.

The ground trembled. Erawan was close.

Iris rolled to her feet. He grabbed the two remaining Iron Dogs by their shoulders, pouring the magic in, healing in twin streams.

A trumpet blast of sound cut through the explosions. They didn’t have much time.

Elara dropped the last undead on the floor and stared into the darkness of the doorway directly in front of her. The first two digging crews lay dead on the floor.

Something was coming.

Something different.

“Do not move,” she whispered.

The five Iron Dogs stood completely still.

A shadow moved in darkness, darker than the rest. A dry clacking sound slipped through the tunnels.

Elara swayed like a striking cobra, side to side, her magic lying in wait on the floor. It was still strong, still potent, but she was growing tired.

Clack.

Clack, clack.

Closer and closer.

Scrape.

Clack, clack.

Scrape.

Clack.

It stopped.

It waited.

She could wait too. She had all the patience in the world.

The torches flickered. Magic whispered through the chamber. She saw it, a clump of blackness trailing smoke, smothering each torch in turn. The fey lanterns blinked and went dark.

In the dark, it moved.

Elara smiled and laughed softly, magic dripping from her voice. “Do you think I fear darkness? I was born in it.”

Her magic shot up the walls. The fey lanterns sparked with pure white light.

A tall dark creature stood in the chamber. It wore a ragged robe, black and tattered, its many layers stained with rot and grease. The stench of carrion polluted the air.

Its hair was long and black. Two twisted horns, coated in old blood, curved from its head, like those of a bison, but rotated to curve upward and pointed forward. Its skin was the brown of a mummified corpse. Someone had carved its face and the scars had healed badly, twisting and slicing through the flesh. Its mouth was a wide lipless gash. A mask of yellow paint traced its eyes. They were dark and opaque, the eyes of a corpse injected with gray ink, except for the irises. Ringed in black, they were a brilliant pale blue, the pupils tiny dots in the ring of near white.

It felt old. The human had long ago died. His body was just a vessel now, for something dark and ancient.

It raised its hand, showing the long threads hanging from its skeletal fingers, each cord supporting human finger bones. It moved its clawed fingers. The bones bumped into each other.

Clack. Clack-clack.

Two beasts trotted out of the darkness, their long claws scraping the floor. They stood on all fours, gaunt like vampires, with every bone sticking out, but where undead were bald, these were covered in dark human body hair. Someone had shaved designs on their hides and traced them with the same yellow paint. Large wolf-like ears protruded from their skulls. Their heads were too long, the jaws protruding too far, as if someone had jammed the skull of a horse into a human head and tried to stretch the skin over it but didn’t quite succeed. Lipless, noseless, their nostrils two holes between the two ridges of exposed bone that ran along the center of their skulls, the creatures glared at her with white eyes.

Lessons from long ago surfaced in Elara’s memory. She had been warned about these before. Ah, yes. It made sense.

“I know of you,” Elara said. “Once you were a shaman. Once you healed the sick and spoke to spirits.”

The creature stared at her.

“But then Nez took you. He made you do evil things. Then, when you died, he used your corrupted shell to invite something over, out of the deep darkness. It took your body. You’re a skudakumooch. A ghost witch.”

The creature didn’t move.

“You’re a thing of old magic now.” Elara bared her teeth. “But this is my castle. There is room for only one ancient monster here. And you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

The twin beasts lunged at her. She lashed the left with her magic, trying to rip its power from it. The yellow symbols flashed with light. Her powers glanced off.

The beast clamped its jaws on her wrist, the other locked onto her forearm. Teeth pierced her skin, drawing blood. Agony shot up her arms, burning.

The beasts pulled her arms apart, anchoring her. Panic struck at Elara, pushing her straight to the hidden part of herself, where the iceberg of her power waited, locked away. All she had to do was reach for it.

No. She gritted her teeth. No.

The ghost witch struck at her, trying to claw her throat open with its talons. Elara pulled the magic out of herself and vomited it into the witch’s face. The skudakumooch shrieked, reeling back.

She needed her hands, but the beasts were chewing her flesh to pieces.

The skudakumooch lunged again. Elara spat another torrent of power. The skudakumooch recoiled.

Bale bellowed like an enraged rhino and smashed his mace into the skull of the right creature. Bone cracked. Bale hit it again and again, driving the mace into it in a frenzy. The icy fangs opened. The beast spun toward Bale. Elara leaned and jammed her hand into its mouth. Her fingers closed about its putrid tongue and she punched her power down its throat. Her magic found the dark slimy seed that animated it, swallowed it, and cracked it between its teeth.

The beast sagged and collapsed, suddenly boneless. Its body fell apart, pieces of its flesh dropping.

Elara spun and jammed her fingers into the other beast’s eyes. They popped under her fingertips. Her magic pierced the beast and it fell apart, dead. The skudakumooch snarled, biting the air with blood-red fangs the size of Elara’s fingers. A cloud of darkness poured out of it, filled with ghostly teeth and claws. The smoke wrapped around Elara. Her skin came alive with pain, as if the air had turned into a whirlwind of broken glass. She tore through it and locked her hands onto the ghost witch’s throat.

The creature bucked. She felt the thing inside the once-human body writhe. It was old and powerful, but she was stronger, and she choked it, sinking her claws into the flesh, piercing it with her magic, again and again. All the magic she had flowed from the floor onto the flailing skudakumooch. The glowing white tendrils wrapped around the ghost witch, choking it. Elara opened her mouth, knowing her jaws gaped too wide as she tried to engulf the skudakumooch’s head in it.

The darkness tore out of the ghost witch’s back. The corpse deflated in Elara’s hands like an empty water skin. The darkness shuddered, fangs, teeth, horns spinning within it, and vanished.

The torches and fey lanterns came back on.

Elara’s jaw snapped back in place. She dropped the corpse and held out her hand. “My wedding ring, please.”

Bale produced the wedding ring and put it in her palm. His fingers shook. Elara slipped the ring on. There.

A deep blast of sound came from above, muffled by the stone, but still clearly recognizable, the scream of Erawan. Elara whirled and ran to the door.

Hugh stood on the wall, presenting a nice clear target. The damn elephant was so big, he blocked the light. Behind Erawan, the Cleaning Crew was trying to drag the trees he had knocked down to ford the moat. Fine time for Nez to grow a brain.

Along the wall the Iron Dogs crouched next to bags and crates, Elara’s people sandwiched between them.

“Do you think this will work?” Dugas asked next to him.

“She won’t let me kill him,” Hugh ground out. “This is all I’ve got.”

Erawan took a ponderous step forward. Lightning rolled off his sides. Only a few dozen feet separated him from the moat. The elephant’s eyes glared at Hugh, filled with pain and madness. Erawan had seen him and was heading straight for him.

“Get your people out of here,” Hugh told Dugas.

“With your permission, I think we better stay. We’re better at this sort of thing than you are.”

“If this doesn’t work, this entire wall is coming down.”

Dugas spread his arms. “Life, death. All part of existence.”

Erawan took another step. The castle shook. Waves pulsed through the moat.

Don’t step in it, Hugh prayed silently. Don’t you fucking step in it. The concrete would never take that much weight.

Erawan bellowed. Hugh clamped his hands over his ears. The wail of the tortured elephant shook the castle. The wind of it tore at their clothes. The howl died, and Hugh screamed into the silence. “Hold it!”

The Iron Dogs held still.

The colossal elephant took another step, falling just short of the water. Hugh could see nothing now, no forest, no fields, only Erawan’s three huge heads and the armored cabin on his neck. Somewhere in there, the Beastmaster rode. Take out the Beastmaster and you take out the beast.

Wait, Halliday. Just wait.

The gem in Erawan’s head pulsed with red. The colossal elephant screamed and leaned forward. Suddenly the enraged eyes were only a few yards away. Breath caught in Hugh’s throat. Fear dashed through him. He swallowed it and called out, “Now!”

The Iron Dogs and Elara’s people opened the bags and crates and hurled the contents in the direction of Erawan. Flowers rained down on the wall of Baile. The humans dropped to their knees, stretching their hands before them. Hugh scooped two handfuls of the blossoms and bowed, hands held out before him.

“Erawan!” Hugh called out. “Mount of Indra, King of All Elephants, He Who Binds Clouds, He Who Reaches to the Underworld and Brings Forth Rain. We bow before you. Please accept our offering.”

He braced himself for the lash of the enormous trunk.

Erawan held still.

Hugh held his breath.

The colossal elephant reached over with his central trunk and swept the bags of flowers up, curling his trunk around them gently as if they were priceless treasures.

The jewel sparked with red. Erawan screamed. The force of his voice nearly knocked Hugh off the wall. He grabbed onto the wall and held on to it. Above him blood poured from under the armored cabin, running over Erawan’s skull. Tears swelled in the elephant’s eyes. But Erawan didn’t move.

Hugh straightened. “Let me help you! Lord of the Clouds, let me help!”

Erawan’s eyes focused on him. The divine elephant ducked his central head, uncoiling his trunk.

Now or never. Hugh jumped onto the trunk. The earth moved underneath him and then he was running up Erawan’s lifted trunk, over his forehead, and to the cabin. Wards pulsed. The bitch had warded the cabin. Sweetheart, you’ll need more than that.

Hugh sucked in a lungful of air. “Habbassu!” Break.

The power word shattered the protective spell. The cabin split apart. Halliday jumped out, a sharp stick with a jewel in one hand and a curved sword in another. She spun like a dervish and lashed at him. He batted her blade aside and bashed at her with his sword. She blocked. She was a large woman, but he was stronger, and the impact knocked her back. Hugh drove her back, across the elephant’s spine, raining blows on her. Halliday snarled like a cornered animal, slicing in a whirlwind. He thrust between her strikes and felt the slight resistance as the black blade slid home.

Halliday froze, her mouth opened in a terrified, shocked “O”. Hugh grasped the rod out of her hand and kicked her off his blade. She crawled away from him. He chased her, step by step, until she reached the edge of Erawan’s enormous back. Halliday bared her teeth. “Fuck you, you piece of shit.”

He laughed and kicked her in the face. She slid off Erawan and crashed to the ground with a scream. The elephant’s back rolled as a colossal hind leg shifted a few yard to the right.

Hugh turned and ran back to the front of the elephant. Down the trunk and back onto the wall. The control rod flowed with red. It was a vicious thing, three feet long with a razor-sharp metal point with a hook on the blade to rip the flesh on its way out of a wound. The point was covered in blood. Magic crackled down its length, sliding from the gem at the top to the metal tip.

He who controlled the rod controlled Erawan. The thought occurred to him almost as if it came from someone else. He looked up and saw the tears in the elephant’s eyes.

He wasn’t that much of a bastard.

“Mace!” Hugh roared.

One of the Iron Dogs thrust a mace at him. Hugh put the control rod on the parapet and swung. The mace head crushed the jewel. He lifted the control rod up and broke it over his knee.

The huge gem in Erawan’s head cracked. Pieces of it tumbled out, crashing to the ground. The elephant raised his trunks and let out a triumphant bellow.

The chains binding his feet snapped.

Next to Hugh Dugas stared, open-mouthed.

Erawan spread his ears. Above him clouds burst with rain. It poured over his body, washing away the dark pigment from its hide. Rivulets of stained rain dripped to the ground, and where they touched the grass, flowers bloomed.

The humans on the wall stared, mute.

Erawan bellowed again, his voice filled with joy. His scars faded, the last of the darkness slid off, and he stood revealed and glowing white.

The elephant waved his trunks, shook his ears, flinging the rain drops, and vanished. Only a patch of bright flowers remained where he had stood.

“It worked,” Dugas said. “How did you know to bring flowers?”

“He’s worshipped in Thailand with offerings of flowers and garlands. A god will do almost anything to keep his worshippers safe. They’re the source of his power and existence.”

Dugas smiled, wiping the rain from his face.

Below, the Cleaning Crew halted its advance, confused, the lines in disarray as Nez tried to regroup.

Hugh grinned. “You’re my witness,” he said to Dugas. “She owes me one.”

“Tell her yourself,” the druid said.

Hugh turned. Elara was standing on the steps. In his head, she took the three steps that separated them and kissed him. But she stayed where she was and then she smiled, her whole face lighting up. “Thank you.”

Worth it.

“Did you see me free the elephant?” he asked.

“I saw.”

He noticed blood caked on her arms.

“They will heal. I won too,” she said. “I’m afraid Bale might never be the same.”

Hugh saw Bale behind her. The berserker looked white as a sheet.

“He’s resilient,” Hugh said. “He’ll get over it.”

Magic cracked like a whip across the battlefield. They spun around to face it.

A portal opened in the middle of the field and mrogs poured onto the grass.