The Spirit War(159)

The Lady loved her as a conqueror, an Empress. An Empress ruled with absolute authority. An Empress rolled over everything in her path. An Empress did not run crying to the Shepherdess whenever trouble appeared. Nara pursed her lips. Until the Lady told her differently, the order to burn Osera stood. Whoever this star was, they would soon learn what it meant to challenge the soon to be recrowned favorite.

Smile returning, Nara opened her spirit again and sank down into the sea. This time, she ignored the great current, grabbing a smaller one instead. The current cried and begged, but it obeyed like all the others in the end. As it fled to do her bidding, Nara sat back on her couch to see what the star would do.

Josef didn’t notice the admiral’s absence until the old man returned, his face grim.

“Sire!” he yelled over the roar of snapping bows. “We’re running out of bolts!”

“Can’t be,” Josef said, launching the last bolt from his quiver. “Finley had six months’ worth laid up.”

“Six months of normal fire,” the admiral said. “Not for this.”

Josef turned and looked, his heart falling. He hadn’t had time to notice in the heat of battle, but the crate he and the other men on this part of the cliff had been using was empty. So was the crate it sat on.

“They’re on the last box on the south side as well,” the admiral said. “A runner just came asking for more. I had to turn him away.”

“So there’s nothing left?”

The admiral shook his head. “We emptied the tower armory as you commanded. Every last bolt was here.”

Josef cursed and looked down at the bay. He could hear it happening already. The whistling roar of the bolts was shrinking, the light on the bay brightening as the rain of arrows began to dissipate.

“Send runners to the other cliff,” he said, tossing his now-useless crossbow on the ground. “Tell the men to finish the bolts they have and get down to the wall.”

“What can we do on the wall?” the admiral said. “We’ve a hundred royal guard left, but the rest of these men are sailors, not infantry.”

“Then it’s time to switch vocations,” Josef said. “We’ve five hundred men here. That many of the enemy are lying facedown in the water already, and we haven’t even made a dent in their numbers. But we’ve still got terrain on our side. If Eli’s message got through, the Council fleet should be on its way right now. All we have to do is hold a little longer.”

“If we go down there we’ll be slaughtered!” the admiral shouted.

“We’ll be slaughtered anyway!” Josef shouted back. “If you want roll over for it, be my guest, but I mean to die as an Oseran should: fighting.”

And with that, he left the admiral gaping and stomped down to the storm wall.

Eli was waiting for him at the base of the cliff, though he didn’t look as smug as Josef had expected. He was smiling, but his face was pale and his eyes were dark with exhaustion.

“You all right?” Josef said as the thief fell in beside him.

“Fantastic,” Eli said.

Josef didn’t buy it. “You look like you’ve been running for three days straight. If you can’t keep it up, say something. I’d rather fight without a lava spirit than have it go out on me at a bad time.”

“I can keep this up as long I have to,” Eli said firmly, glancing up at the lava giant as it stepped aside to make room on the storm wall for the gathering troops. “It’s just that there’s not much for Karon to burn for energy here, so I’m having to feed him some of my own.” He laughed. “It’s disgustingly Spiritualist-like, actually. My only comfort is that Miranda isn’t here to see it.”

“Just don’t push yourself,” Josef said. “I can’t have you and Nico down at the same time.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Eli said, his voice suddenly serious. “Think of this as my chance to pay a little back for all the blood you’ve spilled for me.”

“I don’t reckon debts in blood,” Josef said, reaching out to grab Eli’s shoulder. “Watch yourself, thief.”

“You too, king,” Eli said, breaking off from Josef with a salute.

Josef shook his head and jogged over to join the soldiers.

The Oserans crowded the storm wall. The royal guardsmen were already in formation by the stair, but the rest of the men stood in loose knots, some still clutching their empty crossbows. They parted to make a path for Josef as he climbed onto the storm wall’s lip and turned to face his army, such as it was.

“Listen up!” Josef shouted. “I’m not going to waste time with kingly speeches. All I’ll say is this. We did our best to hold the enemy back, but it was never more than a dyke against the flood. Now we’re up to our necks, and the only chance we have to stop the Empress from crushing this island and our lives under her feet is the stone under ours.” He stomped hard on the storm wall. “We are not dead yet. Reinforcements are coming from the mainland even as I speak. Our job now is to buy those slow Council bastards time enough to get here. Fortunately, Osera herself is on our side. We’ve got a choke hold.” He pointed at the narrow stair leading up from the beach. “We’ve got the sun at our backs, and we’re forcing them to fight uphill. These are our weapons, and with them, we are going to hold this wall.”