Chapter 31

I was expecting to get the taste slapped out of my mouth when Degle came storming up to me as we approached the gate. She delivered on that with interest. Knocked a couple of my new teeth loose, dammit.

I wasn’t expecting her to pull me into a hug immediately after, hard enough to stress test my newly repaired ribs.

“ARGH!”

“Deal with it,” she scolded. “I thought you were dead.”

“I was,” I said. “I got better.”

She squeezed a little harder, just enough to make my ribcage creak ominously.

“Serves you right,” Kaze sniffed.

“How are we looking?” I asked, once I could breathe again.

“All things considered? We could be doing a lot worse. Should be, arguably. I saw my death in that formation,” Degle said. “There wasn’t much we could do to stop them if those bombs of yours didn’t do the trick.”

“And now?”

“The cannon we emplaced atop the wall are just…gone. I’ve no idea where they went. We can’t even go up there ourselves. The flagstones are too hot,” she said. “I’ve got spotters rotating out every few minutes to keep them from cooking.”

I did a little mental math.

“They’ll cool off in a couple hours,” I said. “Or days. Depends on where exactly that decimal goes.”

“You and your decimals are going to be the death of me.”

“So long as they do for the other guys,” I said.

“Point. The good news is, we’ve still got our mortars, and the fires aren’t burning this way, so we’ll still have them for some time. As soon as the enemy makes a second approach, I plan to open up.”

The mortars were relatively new inventions. Rather than cannon, which fired directly at the enemy, mortars were short, stubby things that lobbed shells in high, arcing trajectories. Gram for gram, they were far deadlier than cannon shot. They fired heavier shells at lower pressures, so they needed less in the way of shell walls and could fit more explosives. What they lacked was precision. Any given cannon might have a ball with your name on it. Mortars were more “to whom it may concern” weapons.

“I don’t suppose you want me to-”

“NO!” Kaze and Degle bellowed in unison.

“Sheesh. I was just offering.”

“You’ve helped enough for one day,” Degle said. “If I never see another ignimancer after this battle, it’ll be too soon.”

“If I’m the scariest thing you see today, count yourself lucky.”

She glanced at Kaze, still in her improbably spotless maid uniform.

“Dare I ask why you’re dressed like the hired help? I’ve been meaning to all day.”

“It’s not important,” Kaze said. “At least, not to you.”

“Captain!”

The runner who approached us was apparently too flustered to remember Degle’s promotion. She didn’t bother to correct him.

“What is it, Sergeant?”

“The enemy is approaching again.”

“How many?”

“A-all of them, I think.”

“That didn’t take long,” she said. “Screw it. Tell the mortars to open fire, and don’t stop until they’re out of ammunition.”

“Sir!”

The runner snapped a quick salute, then ran off to the mortar pit.

“I don’t suppose either of you has any more bright ideas?” Degle asked.

I shrugged. There was no point in lying. She’d see right through it.

“If they commit their whole force, there’s not much we can do to stop them from taking the gate,” I said. “Best we can do is make ‘em pay dearly for the privilege.”

“That’s what I thought. Ah, well. It was nice knowing you lot. I don’t expect we’ll see each other again in this life.”

“Don’t write yourself out of the story yet, Lieutenant Colonel,” Kaze said. “Remember who will be waiting for them on the other side. Have your men pull further back into the city and array them around the mayor's mansion. Any force that gets by us will be bled to the bone. There’s still yet a chance.”

That wasn’t in the original plan. The original plan called for Kaze and I to help as best we could, not do the heavy lifting.

Eh, what the hell. She was better at improv than me, and she clearly had her eye on the big picture. The keystone was what truly mattered. If we could stop them at the gate, great. If not, someone needed to hold the line at the wellspring. Degle and her force were better suited to that than we were, and with them out of the way, we could fight to our fullest.

“What she said. Don’t include yourself in that ‘we’.”

“Hell no. I’m not-”

“Consider that an order,” I snapped. “Leave the mortar crews to do their thing until they run dry, then they can join you.”

“Respectfully, sir, you can eat my entire-”

“I’m not taking pity. I can’t tell you what’s in that mansion, only that it’s what Kaze and I came here to protect in the first place. They’re not to take it unless every last one of you is dead on the cobbles. Understood?”

Something hardened in her eyes. She wasn’t a fool. Aethna wouldn’t accept her as an acolyte if she was. If she stayed at the gate, and it looked like they were about to lose, we’d abandon them to protect the keystone. Neither Kaze nor I would feel great about it. I knew I’d have nightmares if we did. She probably would, too. We’d still do it. The keystone was what mattered.

“If you can’t tell me what it is, then tell me this: is it worth dying for?”

“I already have,” I said. “And I’m prepared to die a hundred more times if necessary. If Lady Flir gets what she’s after, she’s one step closer to murdering millions. I intend to stop her here, no matter the cost. The next time I see you, I expect to see you victorious or dead atop a mountain of fallen foes. Or both, depending on your preference.”

She gave me a wicked, predatory grin.

“How many of these bastards do I have to kill to make a mountain?”

I matched her grin with one of my own as the first mortars opened fire.

“Gimme an even fifty and we’ll call it square.”

“By Aethna’s brow, I’ll see it done,” she swore.

That was no light promise. Vows made by a god’s name were one of the few ways to get their attention. They have their pride, too, and they hate being made to look like fools. Swear the wrong thing to the wrong god and you’ll find out what a proper divine smite feels like.

Swear the right thing at the right time, though, and you might just get a little blessing to see you through.

I felt a pressure in the back of my mind, something vast and subtle and intensely, unnaturally interested in what I said next. It wasn’t too terribly different from what I felt at the bottom of a wellspring, just with a will attached. I’d heard it said that mana was the blood of dead gods. Maybe there was some truth to that.

Aethna was watching.

I understood Degle’s intent. If I accepted her vow, her patron would make her see it through, one way or another. If I didn’t, she’d know I was full of shit, and she’d stay right where she was and deal with the consequences later.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, and the universe shifted, locking the vow into reality.

Degle’s nostrils flared with excitement. Had we the time, I might’ve asked her why she was so eager to get herself killed.

“Good. That’s a death I can live with,” she said. “I’d never forgive myself if I got killed falling out of a building or some such. Gods, that would be embarrassing.”

I fixed her with my best glare. It didn’t stick, because she was right. Getting killed by my own bomb was embarrassing.

“Then get the hell out of here,” I said. “Go make me that mountain, Lieutenant Colonel.”