Reclamation(170)

“Are you all right?” she crawled over to his side.

He nodded. “Didn’t land quite right, but I think I’m all here.” With a grunt, he sat up. He laid a hand on his hip, right above his holster and winced. “I’m going to be feeling that for more than a few days.”

A crash sounded overhead. Startled, Arla glanced up. “What happened?”

Whatever he said, Arla’s disk didn’t pick it up.

“What …” she began.

“Listen,” Jay said. “There’s Vitae in here with us and they might have heard us fall.” He unsnapped his holster and drew the weapon. “Stay behind me and keep the light as steady as you can.” He stood up and staggered, but caught his balance quickly.

“Wait.” Arla put the light down and unlooped her sling from around her belt. She unsnapped one of the belt pockets and brought out a handful of stones she’d kept from the fray with the Narroways soldiers. “There’s not much room in here.” She loaded the sling and hefted it to test the weight. “But it’ll be better than nothing.”

Jay scowled at her weapon. “Just make sure you miss me.”

“This despised one will do her best, my Lord Skyman,” Arla answered blandly. Jay gave no sign of having caught her sarcasm. He just hefted his gun and slipped carefully down the corridor.

Arla, suppressing a sigh, picked up the light in her free hand and followed.

Because he didn’t dare take his eyes off Heart, Eric didn’t see when they finally crossed the Narroways road. He didn’t need to. He could hear the fading thunder of the attack. It bounced off the walls, a bizarre staccato noise, not like real thunder at all.

Heart was chanting again. From the slow rise and fall in the cadence, Eric guessed it was the entire prayer for safety.

A moment later a strangely dry, hot wind blew the first faint scent of smoke through the sledge.

“I’m taking us to the overlook,” said Heart through clenched teeth. “Unless you want me to drive us straight into a fire.”

“All right.” Eric felt like kicking himself for forgetting the overlook. It was one of the many escarpments in Broken Canyon’s chaotic breadth. From its ledge, you could look down the length of the canyon and see the city itself. Narroways usually kept a watch there.

Eric genuinely doubted there’d be one there now. He tightened his fists until his knuckles turned white. The dry wind scraped gently against them. A small black flake settled between the knuckles of his index and middle fingers. Eric stared at it. Another came to rest beside it.

Ash.

The sledge jolted and skidded to a halt. Heart stood still between the driver’s rails for a moment. Then he climbed off, one jerky step at a time, holding his head rigidly still above his shoulders.

Eric set his jaw and tried to prepare himself for what he’d see. He knew it was impossible, but he had to try anyway. Eric climbed out after his brother-in-law.

The wind was always strong in the Midway Breach, and even more so on the overlook. It hit him with a blast of heat that tried to drag his skin off his face. Eric screwed up his eyes and looked into the wind. Ash stung his cheeks and nostrils and he coughed, inhaling more ash.

Heart of the Seablade sank to his knees. Ash wafted over him, tracing long black trails around his shoulders. Eric waded through wind to stand beside him. He saw the stone house that had been built to hold the watch. Its shutters and door were flung wide-open, but no one stirred inside. He saw the eddies and whorls of the granite under his feet, washed by wind and water until there was nothing left but pink-and- black stone with an unevenly sculpted lip. Ash skittered across the stone.

Eric made himself look up.

He had only stood on the Narroways overlook once in his life. The Kings of Narroways did not welcome First City Nobility up here. He had never forgotten the long panorama of greens and browns, all of it framed by Broken Canyon’s splendor.

Now night had fallen between the gold-streaked Walls. A roiling cloud blotted out the far reaches of the canyon. It spread out its tendrils until it stroked the Walls. Black streaks cut across the bands of mauve and maroon and silver that the Nameless had painted to make up for the quarrel they had had.

They were too far to away to hear any distinct noises. The vague thunder that was probably made up of roaring flames and crumbling stone still rumbled under the shriek of the wind around their ears. The same wind carried a stench to them. Thick and greasy and acrid, it drove itself straight to the back of Eric’s throat. He tasted ash and death and he gagged.

“Mind was down there,” said Heart. “Mind was still down there.” He looked up at Eric like a bewildered child.