The rest of her group rode with her, entering the city even as the last crumbling remains of the wall turned to dust.
Star gave Kihrin a salute as he passed.
“You lot!” Janel shouted at the guards. “Come over here and help with this. Right now!”
To Kihrin’s utter astonishment, they did. The dragon was probably just more shock than they could handle, and they would have done what anyone had ordered.
People began streaming toward the bridge from the city—not questioning their sudden lack of wall but fully willing to take advantage of it. Many were bloodied and covered in stone dust from collapsing buildings or were coughing from smoke inhalation.
Arasgon began yelling, since the Joratese at least understood him—and he sure had a set of lungs on him. Then Kihrin saw a flicker of light out of the corner of his eye and saw a second gate open. Thurvishar stepped through, holding a bleeding, unconscious Senera. Inexplicably, she was glowing brightly.
“Qown!” Thurvishar shouted. “Over here!”
The Vishai priest looked up from helping a woman with a cut on her arm. “What? Oh—” He pressed a piece of cloth over the woman’s wound. “Keep pressing, like this. But don’t stop walking until you reach the other side.” The woman nodded and quickly ran off, lost in the rapidly expanding crowd running to cross the bridge.
Kihrin rushed over to Thurvishar. “What happened?”4
Thurvishar set the woman down. Blood matted one side of her head. “She must have been struck by debris. I found her half-buried.” He waved a hand. “The glowing part will fade.”
“I didn’t know you two were lovers,” Kihrin said.
Thurvishar’s eyes widened. “We’re not.” The wizard seemed to search for words or an excuse for his actions. Something. “She has the Name of All Things. We’re going to need her.”
Kihrin nodded. “Sure. Of course. What other possible reason could there be?”
Thurvishar glared at him.
Qown knelt next to Senera. “Give me room.” He looked at the woman’s eyes, then covered the side of her head with one hand.
Thurvishar turned his head and raised a wall of solid stone ten feet in the air. It curved inward, forming a protective pocket around them.
Qown hesitated. “That works.” He returned to concentrating on Senera.
“Thurvishar,” Kihrin said, snapping his fingers. “Qown has this. You’re with me. Let’s see if we can give these people a faster way off the island.”
Thurvishar stood. “Did I just see two dragons fly overhead?”
“Yes, you did. The second one is Relos Var.”
Thurvishar blinked and then shook his head. “It’s really a pity he can’t be on our side all the time.”
“Yeah, if only human life held any value to him … He’d be great.” Kihrin forced his way through the crowds, until he reached a spot in the lee of a giant piece of masonry that used to be part of the palace. “Let’s put a gate right here. Make it as large as you safely can. And put the other side somewhere reasonably close to where Relos Var sent everyone else so families can find each other.”
Thurvishar frowned. “Wouldn’t we be better off sending them as far away as possible?”
“Do you know any spot that’s actually safe right now?”
“Good point.”
Out near the center of Lake Jorat, a searing beam of white fire soared up into the sky, turning the lake and all the surrounding land bright as day. People screamed and covered their eyes. Kihrin winced and looked away, but still saw ghosts dancing in front of his eyes. A second later, Relos Var and Morios both erupted from the water, clawing and biting at each other.
As far as Kihrin could tell, Relos Var had done no damage at all to Morios. Unfortunately, the reverse wasn’t true. Great rents in Relos Var’s hide streamed silver blood into the water, and he was clearly not doing well. Normally, Kihrin would have cheered, but …
If Morios ended up killing Relos Var, even if it was (as Var claimed) temporary, Kihrin had no idea what the rest of them were supposed to do.
Kihrin shook his head to snap himself out of it. One disaster at a time.
Janel had been working nonstop, herding people toward the now open gate, and it didn’t seem like the crowd would ever slow. Scandal and Arasgon both helped, keeping people from trampling each other in the rush to reach safety.
Every time Janel saw a Joratese soldier, no matter whose colors they wore, she pressed them into service.
Kihrin was slowly making his way over to her, when Janel froze. A group of Joratese nobles, resplendent in red and gold, were making their way in her direction with their entourage. Then Kihrin remembered what those colors meant. The Malkoessians. Markreev Aroth of Stavira. Janel’s former liege, Dorna’s ex-husband, Star’s illegitimate father.5
Kihrin picked out the Markreev easily enough. But Aroth Malkoessian was the man who did a double take when he first spotted Kihrin, probably because his coloring did indeed resemble his son Oreth’s.
The Markreev and Janel stared at each other for a silent, tense moment, then Janel motioned for him to pass through the portal with the rest of his family.
He did.
Kihrin let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
Just in time to see Relos Var’s bleeding draconic form fly over the bridge, falling straight over the side of Demon Falls.
56: THE ARMY WITH EIGHT GATES
Atrine, Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since Jarith Milligreest found out that his father was an idiot
Morios turned his attention back to Atrine.
The crowd had never been exactly calm about evacuating, but now their panic redoubled. Thurvishar was sweating from the strain of keeping the portal open for so long. Presumably he’d have had a much easier time of it if they’d had a Gatestone, since that seemed to help the House D’Aramarin mages. Then a second gate opened next to the first, and Senera walked through, gingerly touching her head. “We need to leave.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Kihrin said. “Janel, it’s our turn! Let’s go.”
“There’s still people—” Janel started to protest.
Above their heads, Morios turned his head and looked right at the bridge.
Kihrin didn’t think it was his imagination Morios was looking down at them in particular. He was quite sure Morios hadn’t only seen him but that the dragon had recognized him. Dragons seemed to pay more attention to souls than people, and his would no doubt seem familiar.
“Arasgon, take Janel out of here!” Kihrin yelled. “Where’s Qown?” He spotted the little priest not far from Senera’s portal, which probably wasn’t a coincidence.
“I’m here, but there’s—”
“You’re next to a gate. Run!” Kihrin shouted.
Morios raised a wicked, spiked claw over their heads, and people surged for the open portals. Some, knowing they couldn’t possibly make it in time, began jumping off the bridge on the Lake Jorat side.
Suddenly, Scandal stood next to Kihrin, and he vaulted onto her back. Janel and Arasgon, knowing they’d also never make it to a gate, didn’t even try—they began galloping full out for the end of the bridge. Kihrin and Scandal followed. Or more accurately, Scandal followed, and Kihrin held on for dear life. He could only pray that the others had made it through the gate safely—which he did out loud, in case Taja could spare a second from fighting demons in the Afterlife.