The Everburning City

Act 1, Part 5, Chapter 21

Emily

That frumpy, rather abused hat Gwendolyn Aranhall insisted on wearing, belonged to Emily's next sergeant.

Emily didn't make that decision when Gwendolyn Aranhall pulled the whole platoon together when she and Decklan were knocked about, with Gloamtaken raining down on them. Ash-stained madness, that was another surprise she needed to share with the captain when she could. One that would have lost them the position or gotten them killed, if it weren't for the woman's nearly unnaturally resilient resolve. And the special detail sent inside the building — their best melee fighters and the only person who could work on those explosives without help — was a decision made faster than Emily suspected she could have managed.

The reason was when Gwen pulled her knife and kept fighting, despite having just thrown up in disgust over Emily's horrifying plan. Being disgusted, being revolted, and still following. Of everyone in her platoon, Emily knew Corporal Aranhall would be the last to break. Even after Ivan or Decklan. Even after herself, or Valen.

Perhaps even after Mackaroy. That shadow was tempered as hard as anyone Emily had ever met, but he didn't seem willing to bend. If something hit him hard enough, he would break. And break in a way he wouldn't recover from.

Most of the others in the platoon, Decklan included, wouldn't take what they were now doing well. Not once the chaotic madness of the battle faded and they could take stock of what they did. Piling bodies up, dozens upon dozens until the Gloamtaken had to climb over them, made Emily sick to her stomach. And it was her idea.

She honestly wasn't sure many of them would follow her after this.

But for the moment, it was working. The Gloamtaken struggled up the pile of their own dead, tripped and slipped and toppled as the bodies shifted beneath their feet. They were almost easy to kill at this point, at the mercy of the now practiced killers around her. Even Mack was helping add bodies, defenestrating Gloamtaken and dropping them either onto their pile or onto the mob behind it.

Emily finally felt like she had room to take a breath. Room to pause, and let her mind begin to sort through everything she'd seen and done in these last few minutes. She had finally punched their enemy hard enough to have room to ask herself what to do next.

It was a moment Emily deeply mistrusted. From what she had seen of the Gloam and its creatures so far, that was exactly when something she hadn't expected hit her in the stomach. Or dropped out of an ash-bitten window. She stepped off the line, and gestured for Sarina to cover her spot. She backed into the middle of the street and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Mack!" she bellowed.

Mackaroy answered by tossing another Gloamtaken out an open window, then leaning out after it.

"What's going on up there?"

"I have one more floor to clear after this one. Cam and Hendricks can hold for a little while, but I need to sub one of them out soon. Mildred said she needed four minutes."

"How many minutes has it been?" Emily asked.

Mackaroy's shrug was eloquent.

"If we survive this invasion, remind me to make sure every new officer is given a pocket watch," Emily added. "We won't hold any longer than Mildred needs. We've managed so far, but one more surprise might be the end of us."

"Speaking of one more surprise," Mack said, and pointed down the street. In the opposite direction of the Gloam.

Emily whirled around, her thoughts already focused on the fear they had been flanked, that the Gloamtaken were behind them. But jogging up the street were a half-dozen Rangers, lead by their captain. Fauth came up behind them, carrying a couple of crates of ammo.