Troy Denning - The Cerulean Storm

“Caelum, keep Wyan out of the light!” she yelled, not looking up.

“I’ll burn him to cinders if I see him poke so much as his nose out!” the dwarf promised.

Sadira uttered a string of mystic syllables, and her hands sank into the Black up to her elbows.

“Lady Laaj, Cybrian, take my hands!” Sadira directed her words at the floor and began to shiver as the circle of shadow slowly contracted around her arms. “I’m here to help you!”

Whispers of astonishment echoed down from the galleries as the advisors started to return to the floor, but Sadira hardly noticed. Her whole body ached with cold, and her teeth chattered uncontrollably. She began to fear that the noblewoman and templar had been gone too long, that the Black had turned their bodies into frozen lumps of flesh.

Then, as the stain on the floor contracted to no more than a pair of small circles around her arms, Sadira felt a weight at the end of each hand. Her frozen flesh no longer had any sensation of touch, so the sorceress had no way of knowing whether or not the missing advisors had finally found her. Nevertheless, she willed her fingers to close, not sure whether the digits were obeying her wishes, and rose.

As Sadira pulled her arms from the floor, each of the dark circles around them expanded to the size of a human body. Out of the shadowy stains came the shivering forms of the two advisors. Their flesh was as pale and shiny as alabaster, and their muscles were so stiff that their own legs would not support them. With each breath, plumes of white steam rose from between their quivering lips, and hundreds of gleaming ice crystals clung to their clothes.

Murmuring reticent words of gratitude, several allies of the two advisors stepped forward to take their shivering friends from Sadira’s arms. Charl studied the sorceress thoughtfully, then asked, “Why’d you do that? You already got the vote you wanted.”

Sadira shook her head. “No,” she said. “Not the one I wanted-only the one I needed. If Khidar had taken any more of you, I wouldn’t have been able to pull you all back.”

“Then you really meant what you said about not taking the legion if it was coerced from us?”

Sadira nodded. “And what I said about leaving Tyr before I would be part of betraying Agis.”

The sorceress started to turn toward the exit, but Charl caught her by the arm. “Wait a minute. Tyr can’t afford to lose a citizen like you,” he said. “If we let you take the legion to fulfill the boy’s destiny, can you really keep the giants away from the city?”

“Yes,” Sadira replied. “And if we can’t, not only will we send the legion back, Rikus and I will return to fight with it.”

Charl raised his finger to summon the wrab. “Then before you leave, there’s one more vote we should take.”

Neeva crawled forward on the cloud road, a long ribbon of black slate hanging across the face of an enormous cliff. She reached the jagged brink where a section of the bridge had fallen away, and peered down into an arid valley. Far below lay the missing section of road, a jumble of broken rockwork strewn across a drift of red sand. The warrior saw no indication of what had caused the collapse, only a handful of limestone buttresses half-buried beneath shattered slabs of paving stone.

“This road’s as old as Tyr,” she growled, more to herself than to the companions waiting behind her. “Why’d it have to collapse today?”

Coming as it did at the start of their journey, the breakdown did not bode well for their mission against Borys-or for the legion’s chances of reaching the giants before nightfall. Already the sun hung low over the western mountains, its rays striking the granite cliff at a direct angle, while the Tyrian warriors waited impatiently at the beginning of the Cloud Road. There were a thousand of them, all human, armed with huge obsidian axes, bone tridents with serrated tines, saw-toothed scimitars, spiked balls hanging at the ends of long coils of rope, and a variety of other weapons as deadly as man’s infinite desire to murder.

Neeva looked across the missing stretch of road. A brightly cloaked merchant stood on the other side, his image dancing in the heat waves pouring off the cliff face. The man was staring into the breach and scratching his ear, his face hidden beneath the broad brim of his great round hat. Shaking his head in despair, he looked over his shoulder at a pair of inixes, wagon-sized lizards with horny beaks, pincerlike jaws, and serpentine tails. The reptiles were harnessed to a cargo dray that was so large that one side was pressed tight against the cliff, while the other hung over the outside edge of the Cloud Road.

Neeva backed away from the gap.

Magnus took her arm and helped her to her feet. “What did you find?” he asked. The windsinger and Rikus had joined Neeva and the others in Tyr, shortly after the council had voted to send the city legion to help Rkard slay the Dragon.

“I didn’t see much,” Neeva reported. “There was nothing in the rubble to suggest something heavy made it collapse.”

“I thought as much,” Caelum said. He pointed at the square cavities where the buttresses had been mounted into the cliff face. “Those joining holes are in perfect condition. There aren’t any broken posts sticking in them, or any chips around the edges.”

“Which means?” asked Magnus.

“That the supports didn’t snap because of a load or sudden impact,” Caelum answered. “They came straight out. The buttresses were pulled-intentionally.”

“Could be more giants,” Rikus suggested. The mul was just returning from the beginning of the road, where he had gone to fetch a rope from the legion’s supply kanks.

Neeva shook her head. “We’re twice as high as a giant stands,” she said. “Besides, why would they bother? If giants didn’t want us to get across, they’d just smash the road, not pull it apart.”

“Well, whoever did it, they aren’t going to stop us.” Rikus glanced at Rkard, who stood near his father’s side, and asked, “You’re not afraid to cross that gap on a rope, are you?”

“No.” The boy answered sharply, frowning as though insulted.

Rikus chuckled, then said, “Good. If we don’t reach the giants before dusk, our plan won’t work.”

They had decided the best way to make the giants leave the valley was to lure them away. While the legion surrounded the titans, Rikus and Sadira would interrogate the invaders about Agis, Tithian, and what they knew of the Dark Lens. During the questioning, the mul would let it slip that the Lens was not in Tyr and that they were on their way to recover it. Then they would allow one of the titans to escape. Sadira would use her magic to spy on him and be sure that he returned to his fellows with the news that their Oracle was not in the city. Once Sadira was certain their ruse had worked, the legion would leave an obvious trail for the giants, so that any further war parties would go after the legion instead of attacking the city.

Rikus sat down on the road’s jagged brink and wrapped the rope around his waist. Magnus watched him for a moment, then scowled.

“Have you thought this out?” the windsinger asked.

“Of course,” Rikus answered. “Clavis said it would take a day to fix the road, and we don’t have a day. So, we’ll have to rope across.”

“And then what?” asked Magnus. “You can’t expect the whole legion to crawl across that rope. It would take too long-and with so many warriors, dozens are sure to lose their grip and fall.”

“The legion can take its time, if it needs to,” said Neeva. “We can fetch my militia from Agis’s estate. Our numbers aren’t as great, but there should be enough to support Sadira while she attacks with her magic.”