Matthew Sturges - Midwinter

"Is everybody ready?" said Mauritane in a whisper. They stood in a cluster near a piece of abstract statuary, waiting for the tower's courtyard to clear. When the number of passersby had been reduced to two, Mauritane nodded, and they began.

"My honor, sir!" Satterly shouted at Eloquet. "That is what you have insulted."

Eloquet wheeled on him. "You have no honor to insult, peasant!"

Satterly leapt at Eloquet, catching him about the shoulders and pummeling him to the ground, where they hit the wooden floor with a crash. For an instant, the ground swayed unsteadily. Satterly rose to his knees and pounded Eloquet repeatedly with his fists.

Once they'd gotten the attention of everyone in the courtyard, Mauritane and Raieve broke off from the group. Silverdun remained, ostensibly trying to separate the fighting men.

Raieve approached the two onlookers, trying to look frenzied. "Please help!" she cried, taking the hand of the one of them. They were young men, drunken university students perhaps, and both of them seemed to notice her appreciatively at the same time.

"What's going on?" asked one of them.

"Which one is your lover?" asked the other.

"They'll kill each other," Raieve sobbed. "Please help me."

"What's in it for us, darling?" asked the first.

"Oh, please help!" She took them both by the wrist and started dragging them toward the struggle. While she pulled on their wrists, she chanced a look at Mauritane.

In a glance, she saw this: Mauritane approached the four guards, his hands outstretched, as if pleading for help. He motioned to Satterly and Eloquet. She heard him say, "Would you please… " While he was speaking, his right hand went for his sword. The guards, looking over his shoulder, had their eyes on the fight and not Mauritane. It was all the time he needed. He leaned into his first thrust, catching the guard on the right in the chest. With the blade still embedded, Mauritane pivoted gracefully to the left, his body flowing beneath his sword hand. He pulled the blade out, drawing the killing edge backhanded against the neck of the second guard, who'd taken a moment to look down at his fallen comrade. Continuing the motion, Mauritane bounded across the doorway to the second pair of guards. He rammed the first one with the pommel of his sword, pushing him up against the tower's wall, while the other reached for his weapon. The first man fell, gasping for breath. Mauritane, still holding his sword pommel-forward, spun around to the right. His blade entered the second guard's belly; Mauritane twisted the hilt and the man collapsed.

It had all taken less than the space of a breath, and the two young students had seen nothing, compelled as they were by Raieve's plight.

"Now!" shouted Raieve. She grasped the boys' wrists more firmly and jerked them forward. The smaller of the two stumbled and fell to his knees. The other managed to remain on his feet, only to be decked by a blow from Eloquet, who'd managed to run up behind Raieve and tackle him.

In a few more breaths, all four guards and the two boys were safely inside the tower's anteroom. It was a small, undecorated circular space with a staircase leading up to the left and a small door on the right. Silverdun quickly bound the two boys and the single living guard with spellwire before they gained the presence of mind to protest. He wove layer upon layer of the sticky, translucent gel from his fingertips, coating their mouths, arms, and legs.

Meanwhile, Mauritane helped Satterly and Eloquet undress the dead guards. Raieve stripped unselfconsciously in front of them; she could not help, though, but glance at Mauritane while she pulled her leather leggings down over her calves. He was watching her. At least that was something.

Mauritane, Raieve, and Eloquet donned the guards' uniforms, leaving Satterly and Silverdun to guard the door. Silverdun would be able to keep the door magically locked for a while if there was trouble, and Satterly… Raieve supposed he could throw himself against the latch or something, if it came to that.

Mauritane had memorized the plans of the building. Their target was three flights up and they ran toward it, taking the steps two at a time. Sooner or later they would be discovered; every second counted.

They reached the top of the stairs safely. They exited the staircase, stepping into a whirlwind of activity where, dressed as guards, they were completely unnoticed. Scholars hurried past in the wide hallway, dodging each other as they consulted long scrolls, whispering to each other as they consulted enormous books resting on podiums along the length of the corridor. At the far end of the passage, an archway led into darkness; the only illumination beyond was sparse candlelight that flickered in ghoulish shadows on the walls.

"Is that it?" whispered Raieve.

"Yes," said Mauritane, in a normal speaking voice. He motioned upward with his chin, indicating that she should speak normally as well.

"Fine then," said Raieve, at full volume.

Eloquet touched the prayer beads beneath his tunic. "It's time," he said.

"Yes," said Mauritane.

They strode toward the darkened archway. One of the passing scholars, a pitifully thin man, noticed them approaching and moved to block their path. "You can't go in there," he hissed, annoyed. He held up a bony finger. "This is a critical time."

"Shut up." Eloquet shoved the tiny man sideways against the stone wall of the hall, where his skull struck with an ugly crack. Heads turned across the length of the corridor, watching as the scholar slumped against the wall.

"Aba forgive me," said Eloquet.

They drew their swords and ran through the archway. Candlelight danced on the faces of monsters. The sight was so unexpected that all three of them stopped short.

The things were arrayed in a wide circle, easily ten paces across, sitting nearly elbow to elbow. They were not Fae, at least not entirely. They had been mixed somehow with birds, it seemed, although the hybrid was neither beautiful nor graceful. Hideous, deformed wings grew all over their bodies; their tiny eyes gleamed from within enormous bald heads. Instead of mouths they had flopping black beaks that dripped with saliva and foam. When they noticed the intruders, their heads tipped back and some of them made quiet gurgling sounds.

"These are the masters of Elements and Motion?" said Eloquet, gasping in fear.

Mauritane caught himself first. He shoved Eloquet and Raieve into action. "Don't think. Move!"

Raieve went for the one closest to her and started slashing. The thing did not move to defend itself. It simply sat there, the bubbling noise coming from its throat. The force of Raieve's shocked thrust nearly cut the creature in two. It fell backward with a single, wet cry, dropping into a puddle of blood and tiny black feathers.

"What are these things?" she wondered aloud, sweeping her braids back with her free hand. "Are they Fae?" She stepped sideways and struck out at another one. Like the first, it did nothing to save itself.

"They're bred magically with eagles," said Mauritane evenly. "It improves their inner sight. That is how they move the city through space." His sword twirled in his hands, felling one after the other of the creatures, all of whom succumbed with nothing more than a plaintive wail.

Raieve looked out toward the archway. The scholars stood at the threshold, horrified. Some of them covered their mouths with their hands. Raieve couldn't help herself. She smiled at them, licking her lips. One of them fell over sideways.

A few moments later, all of the bird-things were dead or dying, their blood beginning to puddle on the floor. As the last one fell, the room seemed to dip and sway, like a seagoing vessel cresting a giant wave.

"Let's go!" shouted Mauritane. He barreled toward the door. The scholars, already petrified, fell back at his approach.