“Wait! No! Don’t!” the other soldier shouted at Chandra. “I’m not going to kill you!”
“Damn right you’re not going to kill me,” she said, forming another fireball.
“Our orders are to take you into custody!”
Chandra heard the fear in his voice at the same moment she realized he was backing away from her. That was when she noticed, in the light cast by the glowing orb, how young this soldier was. He looked barely eighteen. And scared.
She realized she didn’t want to kill a frightened boy.
Holding the fireball poised for deadly action, she said, “If you don’t want the same fate as your companion, then go. Go now. And don’t come back.”
He licked his lips, looking uncertain. “I have orders,” he said breathlessly. “You have to come with me.”
“Do you really want to die tonight?”
The young man slowly shook his head.
“Then go. Right now. Before I change my mind.”
Looking devastated by his failure, he turned around, moving awkwardly, and began heading down the mountain.
Chandra threw her fireball at the slowly sinking white orb he had left behind, destroying it.
Then she heard more shouts and the voices of other soldiers. They had heard the commotion here. They were heading to this spot and would scour the mountainside in search of her.
She realized with frustration that she’d have to abandon the path she was on. They’d be looking for her there and would chase her all the way up to the monastery.
Fortunately, she knew of a seldom-used, older trail that was not too far from here. But getting to it, in the dark and trying not to be heard by her pursuers, would be a laborious scramble over rough terrain.
With an exasperated sigh, Chandra turned and started making her way carefully in that direction. Samir was right. She must push hard to reach the monastery before daybreak.
Within days of Chandra’s nighttime encounter on Mount Keralia, Walbert’s forces laid siege to the monastery.
Soldiers swarmed up the mountain and established base camps nearby, just beyond the range of the aggressive fire magic that the Keralians attempted to use on the intruders in their land.
The mages of the Order surrounded the monastery with an insubstantial but efficient white barrier. No one could sneak into the monastery or escape from it without passing through this mystical ward, which would capture the individual and instantly alert the hieromancers. It effectively cut off the Keralians from all access to the world beyond their red stone walls.
To preserve their supplies for as long as possible, Mother Luti organized a system of rationing for the monastery’s food, ale, wine, and medicine. Fortunately, the deep well within the monastery walls could supply them with plentiful water for as long as the siege lasted. But, even with rationing, all other essential supplies would run out before long. The monastery had been built as a sheltered place for study and learning; it had never been intended to withstand a long siege by determined enemies.
Chandra knew this stalemate must be resolved. And soon. She just didn’t know how.
“I’ve had another message from Walbert,” Mother Luti told her one evening, after Chandra responded to her request to come to Luti’s workshop. “It arrived, rather dramatically, wrapped around an arrow that was shot into the south tower.”
“Did it hurt anyone?” Chandra asked with concern.
“Fortunately, no.” Mother Luti took a seat and gestured for Chandra to do the same. “And I suppose we’ll have to expect similarly unconventional means of communication hereafter.”
Their eyes met, and Chandra nodded. An angry pyro-mancer had killed a courier from the Order who had come to the monastery two days earlier. Obviously, Walbert wasn’t going to risk sending another one.
Luti said, “Brannon has claimed the arrow as a war prize. The boy has become interested in archery since you were nearly killed by that bowman the oufe tribe sent after you. He’s been practicing while you were away, and I must say, he’s become rather good at it.”
Chandra asked, “Is there anything new in Walbert’s latest message?”
“No, it’s the same as the previous one. You were seen ascending the mountain by night, Walbert knows you’re here, he demands that we surrender you to him. He doesn’t wish to destroy the monastery, but he will do it unless we deliver you. If we cooperate, we’ll be left in peace, so long as we abide by certain terms. And so on and so forth.” Luti sounded bored and disgruntled. “The terms he proposes are similar to the ones that Samir told you the woodlanders had accepted.”
Chandra rubbed her hands over her face and wondered what to do. The Keralians were united in their absolute, unconditional, unanimous rejection of Walbert’s demands. Mother Luti had held two meetings at which the matter was discussed and voted on; one immediately after Chandra’s recent return, and another last night, by which time it was clear how devastating the siege was going to be.
Not one single Keralian was willing to turn Chandra over to the Order.
It wasn’t personal. Well… maybe in a few instances, it was; several of the Keralians, including Mother Luti herself, as well as the boy Brannon, were fond of Chandra. But, mostly, the refusal was based in the Keralians’ way of life.
Being who and what they were, they would not bow down to anyone, give in to any ultimatum, surrender to any threat, or back down in the face of any challenge. They would not secure the safety of their monastery at the cost of Chandra’s individual freedom. And nothing could induce them to abide by rules or conditions set by the Order-or by anyone else.
“What I still find puzzling,” Luti said, “is Walbert’s obsession with you.”
“I’m puzzled, too,” Chandra said.
“I’ve been thinking about it. It has to be because you’re a planeswalker,” Luti said. “Walbert’s reasons for pursuing you-and planning to execute you, I suppose-are presumably the fire in the Western Wood, the attack on the ghost warden, and your encounters with his men. But none of that really explains all this.” Luti waved a hand toward the window, indicating the siege that lay beyond the monastery’s sheltering walls. “And since this man you’ve described to me, Gideon, is also a planeswalker…” The mother mage shook her head. “Well, it’s obviously not as if Walbert believes you’re the only planeswalker on Regatha. So whatever it is that Walbert fears or wants from you, it must be due to something about you in particular.”
“But he doesn’t know anything about me in particular.”
“Well, he knows one thing,” Luti said. “So I deduce that it must be the crucial thing: Unlike Gideon, you wield fire magic.”
“So what?” Chandra said. “I still don’t understand what he wants with a planeswalking fire mage or why he’s doing all this.”
“I don’t it understand, either. Is his obsession with you a symptom of madness? In which case, can we hope he’ll be assassinated soon and replaced by someone who’ll end the siege and go home?”
“Gideon knows him, and Samir has met him,” Chandra said, “and neither of them seems to think he’s mad.”
“Oh, well. Wishful thinking on my part.” Luti added, “You could just planeswalk out of this problem, you know.”
“No,” said Chandra firmly. “I won’t flee to safety and abandon you to deal with the consequences of my having been here. Besides, what will that accomplish? Will Walbert be merciful to you because you let me escape rather than surrendering me to him?”
“It’s very interesting,” Luti said pensively.
“What’s interesting?”
“Walbert was convinced you would come back, and you did,” the mother mage mused. “Now he’s evidently convinced you won’t leave… and, indeed, you won’t.”