The Autumn Republic

Taniel froze in his steps. “Fell. Get my rifle. Now!” He began to run toward the stairs, everything else forgotten. If Brude was down there, whatever half it was, there would be no one to stop him. Taniel didn’t think even he could do much, but he remembered Kresimir’s blood on his knuckles. If he really was a god-killer, then he might be the only one who could do anything.

Taniel felt something hit him from behind, knocking the breath from him and slamming both him and his attacker against the wall. He threw the other person away from him and struggled to his feet, only to find Nila crouched beside him, both her bare hands wreathed in blue flame.

The sorcery that cut through the air where he had just been standing had sliced a cannonball-sized hole in the floor and the ceiling. The blast had come from beneath him, and he could sense multiple Privileged somewhere below. Taniel scrambled along on his hands and knees. “Back to the office!” he yelled.

Bo, crouching awkwardly with his prosthetic, snatched him by the sleeve. “Get your rifle and take the back stairs. They’ll need you out there. I’ll take care of this.”

“You’re sure?”

“Trust me.” Bo slapped him on the shoulder, and Taniel ran back down the hallway, taking his rifle from Fell and fixing the bayonet as he ran, passing through two doors until he reached the servants’ stairwell behind Ricard’s new office.

He took the stairs a flight at a time, leaping like a madman from landing to landing. At the bottom he ran down a short hallway and kicked a side door open, then sprinted out into the dust-filtered sunlight. He stood blinking for several moments, trying to get his bearings, when the concussion of an immense blast threw him straight back into the building.

“She’s down there, Nila. The bitch who took my leg.”

Nila was about to ask how Bo knew, but the awareness at the edge of her newfound sorcerous senses told her enough. There were Privileged two floors beneath them. Their presence was muted in the Else, as if they’d been taking great care to conceal themselves, but they were most certainly there. And based on what Bo had told her about cabal Privileged, they probably had a company of soldiers with them as well.

“What do we have protecting the People’s Court?” she asked.

Bo responded, “Two companies of Adran soldiers.”

“They’ll get torn to ribbons by three Privileged.”

“Five Privileged. And I agree.”

Nila tried to think of who they could depend on to help them, and found a knot in her stomach. She and Bo were the Adran Cabal. And Tamas’s powder mages had their hands full with whatever power had just toppled Sablethorn. Her heart thundered in her ears. She had her back to the marble banister and there were five floors of the People’s Court between her and the ground. After watching the top of Sablethorn destroy the balcony and nearly flatten Taniel, she felt as exposed as if she were stripped naked. “What do we do?” she asked. “Follow Taniel out the back?”

“Good idea. Get everyone out that way as quickly as possible, and hope that their soldiers haven’t already cut us off. This is my fight.”

“This is our fight,” Nila corrected. “Fell! Get everyone out the back. Empty the top floor if you can, because there’s no going this way.”

Ricard’s secretary gave a sharp nod and began to urge the people back down the hallway.

“You sure you’re here with me?” Bo asked.

“Of course, you fool. I’m your responsibility now. Who the pit else is going to teach me how to be the best Privileged of the century?”

“This isn’t a few thousand Adran infantry. These are cabal Privileged.”

Nila swallowed hard. “I know.”

“All right. Here we go.” Bo climbed to his feet, his prosthetic jerking and wobbling beneath him. “Lourie! Hey, Lourie!”

“Borbador!” A voice came back from downstairs. “Why aren’t you running yet? That last shot could have been for you, but I figured I’d give you a sporting chance. Is your powder mage friend dead?”

“You missed, actually.”

There was a pause. “That’s a pity.”

“Lourie, do you have a favorite eye?”

“What?”

“Just answer the question,” Bo shouted.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to keep that one in a jar after I strangle you with your own entrails.”

“What are you doing?” Nila hissed.

“Just having a conversation,” Bo said. “What does it sound like?”

Lourie’s voice returned, “Oh, come now, Borbador. You weren’t using that leg too much.”

“You won’t be using your eye too much either.”

“Bo,” Nila said. “What the pit is going on? Why aren’t they trying to kill us?”

“Because they’re taking up positions. The moment we open up on each other, people are going to die. They want to be very certain it’s not them.” Bo leaned back, closing his eyes, hands held out in front of him with one elbow on the marble banister for support. His fingers twitched and moved, tracing tiny patterns in the air.

“What are you doing?”

“A few quick wards,” Bo said. “And finding out where they’re all positioned.”