Edmian ran blindly through the streets, his eyes burning, his throat tight in a way he didn't understand, one that made him wonder if he was going to die.
Shaking, he pressed himself into a narrow corner, watching the Colorless pass him by without noticing. His body still throbbed in the places where Jolette had knocked him over, wrestled with him. He took a glance at his wrist. A blue bruise had formed there, dark blue, so very unlike the pendant and yet blue all the same. It seemed to be staring at him, mocking him. Edmian pulled his sleeve over it.
What now?
Jolette didn't seem to be following, and Edmian didn't know if he was glad or sad. He hoped she would be all right. She had to be. He couldn't help her now. He didn't dare come near her anymore, not with this thing hanging from his neck.
No, he couldn't risk returning to her. The pendant had driven her mad. Just like it had driven Theor mad before. The object around his neck was dangerous, too dangerous to keep around people. Everyone had been right. It did have a will of its own.
Jolette had been claimed already. Who would be next?
He didn't dare think of it. Her he had still been able to fight off. But the others...they were bigger. They were stronger and far older. He wouldn't stand a chance.
But most of all he didn't want his friends to become his enemies in the first place.
So that answered it.
With a deep breath Edmian pushed himself out of his corner and continued on his way with a newfound determination.
~ ~ ~
The boats were drawing closer.
Saryana had listened to the sound of the bells with relief, but now she was tensing again. Time had passed, and still Jolette had not returned. Neither had the innkeeper. Evariel was still watching the seas upstairs, and his reports were enough to tell her they were running out of time.
The people were warned. So far, so good. Now she had to think. How could this city be defended? Someone had to gather the people, equip them with weapons, man the cannons and city walls, and quickly. And she was a foreigner here. She had neither the right nor the knowledge to do it.
If only Aithal was here.
But he was still missing, and she didn't dare search for him. She had to watch the others. She might be on leave, but she was still a general, and generals didn't desert those in their care for one person, no matter how dearly beloved.
What could she do? What should she do?
If worse came to worst...should she take the group and leave? Get out of the city while the Colorless took over?
Possibly without knowing what had become of Aithal?
She hated the thought. She loathed it. But it seemed like the best option. She should warn the others. At her signal they should all be ready to sneak out, quickly and quietly.
Damn it, where was Jolette? Where was the innkeeper? Evariel, at least, was upstairs. Zamrod was next door. And Edmian—
Where was Edmian?
Standing up, she paced through the whole house, barging in on Zamrod, then upstairs on Evariel. "Has anyone seen Edmian?" she shouted.
Both elf and dwarf shook their heads. "Isn't he in his room?" Evariel asked.
Saryana searched. She searched every nook and cranny. But deep down she already knew she wouldn't find anything. Her senses always told her when someone had done something stupid.
She looked everywhere, and there was no trace of Edmian.
Stay calm, she reminded herself as she returned back to Zamrod. She could easily guess where Edmian had gone off to. That meant he should return after Jolette and the innkeeper. Now if only those two—
As if on cue, the door flew open, and the innkeeper stumbled in, looking disheveled and sweaty and visibly frightened.
And alone.
"I'm sorry," he rasped out, collapsing into the free chair. "She rang the bell—but the chaos—and then the Colorless—"
Saryana pulled him into an upright position. "Are you saying you left her?"
"I lost her, lady—but—"
"You lost her? When there are Colorless out there?"
The innkeeper nodded, looking terrified out of his mind.
He was only a man, Saryana reminded herself. He wasn't made for war and conflict and dealing with strange invasions. She shouldn't be too harsh with him.
"Anyway," she said. "Have you seen anyone following her? The boy who was with us?"
The man shook his head. "I don't think I did."
Saryana shivered.
So that meant three of their companions missing, with their whereabouts a mystery. Two of them carrying pendants. With Colorless in here.
Across from the large fireplace, the next door over, the heavy grandfather clock struck noon.
~ ~ ~
"...ry? Nellary!"
Nellary shook herself. The cloud of white that had been filling out her consciousness paused, the voice that echoed through it faint but very much real. This was a real person talking to her. Someone was here.
That voice...where had she heard it before? She knew it was familiar, extremely so.
"Nellary, for the love of everything!" There was a creak, and then the voice was clearer. "Don't tell me they've got you already after all your big talk!"
"Fay?"
The name left her lips on its own. Suddenly she knew why she had recognized the voice. Nellary looked up.
Beyond the mist, beyond the clouds, the wall had opened. And out peered a face that was as pale and haggard as it was familiar.
"Fay!" she burst out, hurrying to stand close to her friend. "What are you doing here?"
"Getting you out of trouble, obviously," Fayabel hissed. She looked horrible. Her skin and hair were now almost completely white, her eyes a matted gray. But there was a life in her eyes that Nellary hadn't seen in weeks, no...not since Rivertown.
"They didn't send me to build things for nothing," she said, smiling grimly. "How else should I have known that these cells have passages all around them to maintain the fog pipes? Not to mention hidden doors?"
"Fine, but—but—why are you here?"
"Isn't it obvious? I heard what they were planning to do to you and Maithea and came here." Fayabel grabbed Nellary by the arm. "Now come on! Or are you planning to let them get your wife while you hesitate?"
"Maithea!" Nellary stumbled forward into the passage. Fayabel slammed the door shut behind her. The fog receded from her mind. Suddenly she was fully herself again.
"She's in the next one over," Fayabel said, marching to the next door and producing a key out of her pocket to unlock it. "Maithea," she called inside, "are you still alive?"
From somewhere inside the mist came a faint voice. "Fay, is that you?"
Nellary didn't wait around for an answer. Brushing past Fayabel, she plunged into the fog, following the sound of her wife's voice until she could make out her shape against the whiteness, curled up tightly on the floor, trying not to breathe. She smiled. So Maithea, too, was refusing to give up yet. She could still be saved.
"C'mon," she said, helping her to her feet, pulling her out of the cell. "We're getting out of here."
Together they stumbled through the door and into the passage beyond. Both caught their breaths. Then they instinctively turned to look at each other.
"You all right?" Nellary rasped out.
Maithea nodded. "I think so. You?"
Nellary gave a quick nod, then, on a sudden impulse, she grabbed her wife's face in both hands and pulled her into a desperate kiss.
"I thought I'd lose you," she whispered.
"Me too," Maithea answered hoarsely. She smiled. "But here we are. Saved—"
She trailed off. Fayabel was still standing next to them, looking tense and anxious.
"Fay," she said. "I thought you'd given in."
Nellary furrowed her brows. She knew this tone. There was a subtle cautiousness in it, the faint hint of suspicion. Maithea wasn't convinced that this sudden rescue was not a trap.
"I did," Fayabel answered, and when she smiled she looked just like her old self again. "I have no hope and nothing left to lose. But you two...you still have hope." She placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "So they can do to me what they want, but I won't let them break you."
Nellary swallowed. Despite her gratitude she still wanted to shout at Fayabel. There was still hope for her too, she wanted to tell her. She shouldn't give up. They could all still be saved if they tried.
But her mouth was dry, and her throat was too choked up to speak a single word.
Maithea, too, seemed to have the same thoughts, but she contained them and smiled. "Thank you for saving us," she said warmly. "But...where do we go now? If we show ourselves to the Colorless they'll just try the same thing again."
"Don't worry." Fayabel's grip on both their shoulders tightened. "I know a way out. And I'll take you both to safety, and if it's the last thing I do."
~ ~ ~
"Borrow?" Fate repeated, and their voice sounded like the voice of the legion all speaking in unison. "My powers?"
Elisya nodded, bowing her head. "I know I'm asking for much," she said. "But...I think this is necessary."
Before her, Fate took the shape of a shadow, flickering slightly in the half-light of the chamber. "Why so?"
Elisya squirmed. This was something she had struggled with for years beyond count, something she had never wanted to speak out, not so directly, not like this.
"Because...my power is weak," she said. "Compared to all you others, there is so little I can do. What can knowledge alone do to save the world? Especially if it isn't enough to tell me what to do?"
Fate flickered again. A glowing pair of eyes appeared in the face of the shadowy form, red-orange like burning embers, and Elisya realized she wasn't talking to one of the spirit's many incarnations anymore. Now she was talking to its true shape, the spirit as it truly looked.
"You are a coward, Elisya."
The voice of the legion was still speaking, and now it was everywhere, everywhere around her. "So you think you cannot do anything because you lack the right power?"
Elisya squirmed, suddenly feeling exposed. "Well, I—"
"So you think only the ones with the mightiest powers can do something to change the world?"
Elisya opened her mouth and closed it again. Words got stuck in her throat.
"Do not mock me, Knowledge," the voices continued. "I of all people know better. I work through everything. Little things. Coincidences. Do you ever think about what would have happened if everything had been just slightly different?"
Elisya blinked. "What?"
"What if the boy hadn't picked up the pendant?" The voices came closer, as if tightening around her. "What if he hadn't run away? What if he had never ended up in Rivertown? What if he and the girl hadn't been outside the village when the kidnapping occurred? What if they hadn't lost their food and water or come across that Elodian prince and his bride at the inn? What if you hadn't been with the elves when they arrived?"
The shadowy figure grew bigger, the eyes glowing ever brighter. "For want of a nail, a kingdom can fall. Do not ever tell me you are too small or too weak to change the course of history."
Elisya looked down. Different emotions were warring in her head.
"But," she answered softly, "what would you have me do?"
The shadowy figure shrank down to human size. The glowing ember eyes dulled until they were little more than orange sparks, bright and almost sympathetic.
"First of all," said the voices, "I would have you change the way you think."
~ ~ ~
"The ships! The ships!" Evariel shouted as he came running in. "They're almost here!"
A cold grip closed around Saryana's heart. The faces of Edmian and Jolette flickered vividly before her eyes, then Aithal, and then Lisha before she had been swallowed by the shadow. She forced herself to stay calm. "How far?"
"The humans can see them already." Evariel glanced hastily over his shoulder. "They've begun to prepare for an attack, but I don't think they can make it in time."
Saryana bit back a curse. "They're showing themselves on purpose now. They're trying to throw the city into disarray." She clenched her hands. "Any news from the..." Her voice almost faltered. "From the palace?"
Evariel and Zamrod shook their heads.
"So at least no bad news," she said. "What about the kids—"
"Battle, lady!"
She froze. Into the room barged the innkeeper, who had gone back out to search for Jolette and Edmian, pale and terrified and visibly out of breath.
"Battle," he gasped out. "There's battle around the palace!"
"Aithal."
The whisper had escaped her before she knew it. The cold grip tightened, and now it was freezing. Despite the warmth of the room Saryana shivered.
Her worst nightmare had become real. Several of the people she cared about were in danger, and she had to decide which ones to save.
Should she go out and look for Jolette and Edmian? Aithal might urge her to. He had put aside the chance to save his own family to bring them to safety. There was no way she could desert them now, and they were only children. Aithal had been in the military with her for a few years. If anyone knew he could defend himself, it was her.
But he would also be outnumbered. If the accounts were true, the palace was all but deserted. And even he could not stand a chance against a much larger group of Colorless forever.
And wasn't he still the man she loved, the man she wanted to marry? The man she had known and loved so dearly and so often dreaded losing for fifteen years? Had she not sworn to stay with him on this mission and protect him with her life?
She swallowed hard. Her eyes stung with tears. Get yourself together, she told herself. You're a soldier, you have responsibilities. Don't you ever let your feelings get in the way of your duty.
"We...need to go out," she said, her voice strained and thick from the lump in her throat. I'm sorry, she mentally whispered to Aithal. Please survive. "We must find the kids before the Colorless—"
"No," Evariel cut her off.
Saryana shut her mouth, torn between scolding him for his manners and losing her composure. "What do you mean, no?"
"We can't all do that." Evariel gestured up towards the palace. "Aithal's where the battle is, right?"
Saryana clenched her jaw. By sheer force of will she kept herself from breaking down. Why did he have to say that? Why did he have to question things when she had already made her decision?
"He can protect himself," she said heavily. "Are you saying we should desert the kids to—"
"I'm saying you go look for him." Evariel placed a hand on her shoulder, and even though it was slender and youthful, right now it felt strong and comforting like the grip of an adult. "Leave looking for the little ones to me."
"And me," Zamrod added. "You save the prince."
Saryana swallowed hard, but the tears welling up in her eyes were impossible to hold back. "You two..."
"Don't worry about it." Evariel gave a reassuring grin. "The city's big and messy, and you need elvish senses and Master Zamrod's brains to find two missing kids. But you? You're a warrior." He nodded over his shoulder. "And Aithal needs that right now."
He was right.
There wasn't much she could have done looking for Edmian and Jolette anyway, Saryana realized. This city was unfamiliar to her. She would only have lost her way. But fighting? Finding her way through the mess of a battle? This was what she had been trained to do for many, many years.
Leaping forward, she pulled both Evariel and Zamrod into a crushing embrace.
"Take care, you two," she said. "If you let anything happen to you, you'll be in so much trouble, understand?"
Zamrod placed an awkward hand on her ribcage. Evariel squeezed back. "Yes, ma'am."
Smiling at them both, Saryana let go, picked up her sword and armor and hurried out into the city.
~ ~ ~
"The way I think?"
Elisya's eyes were still fixed on the glowing orange of Fate's, an uneasy chill creeping down her spine. "What are you talking about?"
"You always think about what you cannot do." The shadowy form was close now, less than an arm's reach away, as if telling her a secret. "You always wonder what you would do if you had more power, more knowledge, another ability. But the worst thing you can do is nothing, Elisya. Idleness is the only thing that has never solved a problem."
Elisya dropped her gaze, setting her jaw like a spiteful child. "I am not idle."
"But you do run away from your problems." The shadowy form bent down to meet her gaze again from below. "Saying you lack the power to change things is always easy. A nice, comfortable excuse for never trying."
"I did try—"
"—to run away. As always."
Elisya swallowed.
"Why the silence?" the voices mocked. "Is that not what you would tell the living who ask for your sage advice?"
Elisya was silent. Fate was right, she realized.
"Maybe so," she gave in. "What of it? Instead of doing what I do, how would you have me deal with it?"
"You know the answer, Elisya."
The shadow had grown greater again, and she looked up to meet its gaze. Again she shivered.
"If you truly want to change things, think about what you can do."
~ ~ ~
Jolette sat up.
The initial wave of panic had passed by without paying her any heed. Her tears had run dry, and after crying came a calm that made her breakdown feel almost silly. And with calm, sooner or later, came a fierce, unwavering resolve.
Her companions were in danger, and here she was sitting on the ground and feeling sorry for herself. What was she thinking? She might be weak, and she might be unable to save her parents and her village right now or ever, but even if there was little she could do where she was, the way she was, she would never forgive herself if she didn't at least try.
The Colorless had gone up the mountain, in the direction of the palace. She knew Aithal had gone there this morning. She hoped someone else had gone to him too, or he would be in danger. If they hadn't, should she go? Look for him, maybe try to warn him?
Impossible. She didn't know the way. And even if she did, the Colorless had passed by so long ago that she couldn't possibly hope to overtake them now.
Then what? Back to the others?
That should be where Edmian had gone, right?
She really, really, really hoped so.
Rising to her feet, she started walking, then running through the streets, blindly hoping that she still remembered the way back. The way to the inn seemed to take forever. And when she barged in she found no trace of her companions at all.
Saryana wasn't there. Evariel wasn't there, and neither was Zamrod. Aithal hadn't returned. Even the innkeeper was gone, and no one could tell her where they had disappeared to.
She hastened to their room, but there was no trace of Edmian. Only his pack had disappeared from where they had left it this morning.
So everyone was out there somewhere. Everyone was in danger. And here she was, all alone in a foreign city, armed with nothing but a kitchen knife.
What could she do? How could she get to them? And who should she look for?
What can someone like me do, anyway?
There it was again, that flash of despair. That feeling of powerlessness that had made her weak to the lure of the pendant in the first place. She began to push away the thought. And then she paused.
What could she do?
It was the same question she had asked herself back when she had thrown snowballs at the Colorless to get their boat off balance. A question focused not on her helplessness, but on her skills and knowledge. Here she was, with all her abilities and a knife in her pocket. With everything she had right now, everything she was, in this situation, what exactly could she do?
She couldn't protect Aithal if he was attacked by Colorless at the palace; she knew nothing about battles. She didn't know where all the others had gone, or why, or when they were coming back. But she did know that Edmian had come here, taken his things and run off. Most likely in secret. By himself.
She knew Edmian. She had a good guess which way he might have gone.
All the others were adults, or nearly adults. If push came to shove, they could protect themselves. But Edmian was trying to take off alone when they were Colorless attacking the city. If there was anyone she could aid right now, anyone she could protect, it had to be him.
Snatching her own pack, Jolette turned and ran back out of the inn.