Queen of Embers

XXVI. Hell of a Night

"What the hell is happening?" Vridash asked, as he chased after Sorne. Vipsania had taken a horse to keep up with the sprinting orc and their magically augmented leader.

Ahead of them, Navarre's gates stood open, though damaged. It looked like they'd been blown apart by a battering ram, yet they were scarred too by impact with fire. Beyond the walls, a great plume of smoke rose from the city, the lights of a fire flickering and dancing within. The great bells of the temple in town tolled out a frantic, fearful alarm. Sorne saw no sign of people up on the wall: everyone was focused on whatever was going on inside.

Back at the camp, their forces were mustering to follow Sorne's little group under the direction of Sir Petri and several other military advisors that Vipsania approved of.

"It sounded like an explosion!" Sorne called over her shoulder. As they passed through the gate, Sorne realized that there was a familiar, almost bitter smell to the smoke. This was not a normal fire. It had been conjured by a spell, and it was everywhere. She skidded to a stop. "Someone did this intentionally."

"An ambush for our people?" Vipsania asked, sliding out of the saddle. The animal was too spooked by the fire to go further, so she let it bolt. It would either return to camp on its own or be brought by some local farmer who recognized the brand.

Sorne shook her head. "It's something else."

Vridash grabbed her shoulder. "We need to find Terese," he said. "If this is bad magic, it's probably here for her."

There was a familiar laugh behind them. Sorne spun only to find herself face to face with Mode. "You!"

The corrupted god held up a finger. "Do not be so hasty as to think this was my doing," the withered figure said, smell overpowering even the reek of smoke. "I am not here to harm anyone, only to impart knowledge, as I did for Sol."

Sorne's stomach knotted. "You told him? Mode, I'm not ready!"

"Whether you feel ready is your decision. I only see the weaving of Fate and know when the time is appointed," Mode said. "Perhaps this is your lesson to learn, little Sorne."

"What's causing the fire?" Sorne demanded.

Mode laughed, dark eyes gleaming in the firelight. "You will know him by his fire," the corrupted god said. "Is that not what Nessa told you?"

Sorne felt a terrible rage hit her body. Aldana was willing to kill a whole city to destroy their chances. No doubt if they didn't save Terese and the Count, this would be told as the tragic victory of the beast rampaging down from the north. It would make Sorne into a true monster in the mind of everyone in the south. "Vridash is right," Sorne said. "We need to go."

"Goodbye, little Sorne. Perhaps we will even meet again someday," Mode said, dry lips twisting into a rictus grin. "Not even Fate can say what will happen now."

Sorne ran for the noble district as fast as she could without losing Vridash and Vipsania. Parts of the street were shattered where something had impacted, though it looked regular and consistent, like it was the trail of some great beast. The orc had his bow strung and arrows clenched in his fist. All around them was destruction. They passed guards trying to free civilians from burning buildings. As they moved, they had to step over smoldering rubble and dead bodies, some from burns and others looking as if they'd been ripped apart. The smoke was thick and choking, but they pressed on. No one stopped them or attacked. There was just too much chaos for them to even be recognized.

The gate to the keep was utterly shattered, scattered all throughout the courtyard in pieces no larger than a man's thumb. Most seemed blackened from fire, though it could have been from the blood of the shredded bodies around them. "What happened here?" Vridash asked.