The swirling wind caught up the debris in the courtyard like the tornados that sometimes laid waste to the Margolan plains. Bits of straw, splinters of wood, and shards of broken glass were hurtling through the air, embedding in the wooden posts.
"Come on!" Soterius urged, hanging onto the door. The two stragglers, realizing their folly, began to run, their path blocked by the swirling wind that kept even Mikhail from intervening.
Soterius's eyes grew wide as the icy spiral seemed to anticipate the stragglers' lunge for freedom. He threw up an arm to protect himself as the vortex enveloped the stragglers. Their screams filled the air; blood spattered the courtyard walls as the violent wind cut them to ribbons. Soterius threw his weight into closing the massive inner door, praying to the Goddess that it might withstand the onslaught. Mikhail joined him, adding his supernatural strength. Together, they managed to seal the door and throw the bolts just as the wind slammed into it.
"What was that?" Soterius asked breathlessly. Beyond the door, the vortex howled. In the hallway, babies screamed and children shrieked in terror, while the villagers, still clinging to their weapons, flattened themselves against the opposite wall, their faces pale with fright.
"An Elemental." They turned to find Fallon behind them,
"A what?" Soterius breathed, still feeling his heart thud.
"An Elemental," Fallon repeated. "Called by a mage." She sighed. "Perhaps we can be thankful that it's not a fire Elemental."
"Will the door hold?" Mikhail asked, still braced against the force.
"It's spelled to resist magic from the outside. We didn't spell the common gate because there had never been a need." She looked pained. "An oversight."
"Then we're trapped," Mikhail said, looking lev-elly at Fallon. "Water fouled, our escape cut off, our source of food limited. Unless there's a way to stop that thing."
"There's a way, but it isn't easy. An Elemental, once called, can only be destroyed by the one who called it, or by breaking the concentration of the mage that cast it. I imagine," she said, her dark eyes weary, "that the mage is out there, among the soldiers. And our only way out, with the stable blocked, is through the archers' slits, too narrow for any man or child, or from the roof of the tower itself."
Soterius's eyes lit with inspiration. "If someone could get down there, how could the warding be broken?"
"A mage could do it with a word. Or a mage might put the spell on a small chit, a piece of pottery that bears her wizard's mark, to send it with someone else." She frowned. "But no one here can fly. And if we send a mage closer or try to move the chit by magic, their mage will surely detect it."
Soterius exchanged glances with Mikhail. "Either of us, by our own means, can get to the ground. I come from the high country, where climbing up and down cliffs is as natural as breathing. I've climbed the walls at Shekerishet many times. Give me cover, hand me the chit, and find me some rope and the leather to make a climbing harness. I'll get it there." He looked thoughtful. "And a few other ingredients our friend Carroway used for distractions might be useful, too."
"Absolutely not," Mikhail said. "I'll go." He held up a hand to stay Soterius's argument. "I'm faster. I'm stronger. I have more natural defenses," he said. "And I'm already dead."
Fallon shook her head. "We've already tried. The Margolan mage placed a warding that drove the vayash moru back. They were unable to cross."
"Then send me," Soterius argued. "Anything's better than waiting here to be cut to ribbons or starve to death."
Fallon was silent for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "They sensed our mages as quickly as they sensed the vayash moru. We have no other experienced soldiers. There is no other choice."
"If I can't go, then let me get Ban safely to the ground," Mikhail cut in. "I can fly. I can have him at the tower base in a fraction of the time it would take to climb, and without the exposure."
Soterius remembered Gabriel's demonstration back in the salle in Principality City. "I'm willing."
Fallon folded her arms. "Then it's settled. In the meantime, rest. We'll provision you." It took Soterius much of the next morning to mix, by trial and error, smoke and light pellets like the ones that Carroway had used to highlight his songs and tales. He rested for the afternoon, rising at the supper bells to get ready for the night's work. As he finished, Fallon appeared with a thin, angular woman. "This is our land mage, Latt," Fallon said. "She'll raise a fog at moonrise and call the creatures of the wood to give you cover."
"I'm ready." Soterius looked at Latt. "You can talk to the bats about that cover."
Fallon smiled at the characterization. "Our mages have been doing a great deal more than conversing with bats and wolves," she said as they climbed the twisting stairs to the top of the citadel. "Our fire mage attempted to strike, but there's a powerful warding which let a direct hit bounce away harmlessly. Our water mages have called on the springs to bog down the ground, making it a sea of mud, which should hamper their use of war machines. Latt's spell to spoil their food may have worked, in which case, you may find them... indisposed."
"I used to think a mage would just look at someone the wrong way and 'poof,' they'd be gone, or burned to a cinder," Soterius said. Mikhail joined them at the third landing, climbing with them in silence. "After hanging around with Tris, I get the idea that it might not be quite that easy."
"It's taking a considerable amount of our mages' energy to avoid going 'poof when their mage sends something our way." Fallon replied. "Which I'm sure is why Arontala added the mages."
They reached the top of the tower. The moon was full and bright. Soterius frowned, wishing for clouds to dim its light. "I wish you well," Fallon said. "Wait until the twelfth bell. Then listen for the bats. They will be your cue."
"I was kidding about the bats," Soterius said with an anxious glance. "Never really liked bats," he added beneath his breath.
"Latt also called a fog, which should help to hide your movements," Fallon added. She handed him a folded cloak. "This cloak has been spelled to be magic-neutral. It will hide the spelled chit from detection, and may protect you from magic directed at you."
"May?"
"We don't know the skills of the mage Arontala has sent. The cloak should shield you, but it can't protect you from everything. Use caution."
"Thanks a lot."
"Don't forget this," Fallon said. She stretched out her palm, and her opened hand revealed a plain-looking piece of buff pottery, stamped with an intricate design that seemed to blur and move. "It's a wizard's mark. This chit has been spelled to break the mage's warding and destroy his Elemental. You must be within an arm's length of him for it to work, and it must touch his body."
"What if he has some sort of, I don't know, protections or something?"
"You'll have to improvise."
"Great. Anything else I should know?"
"The cloak will let you pass among our mage's traps without harm," Fallon told him. "You need fear nothing from the wolves, or the bats. But beware of the Elemental."
Soterius raised an eyebrow at her tone. "The way you say that makes me worry."
Fallon frowned. "Elementals are unpredictable. They're a temporary creation, wholly created from the will and power of the maker. I can't predict what will happen when you break the wizard's warding." "Meaning what?"