The head swung round. The man smiled.
Gods below, Stormy. ‘We’re encircled!’
‘And we’re cutting ’em to pieces!’
‘We need to break out-the sky’s killing us!’
‘Withdraw your K’ell! Regroup and set up a charge!’
‘Which side?’
‘Whatever’s behind Kalse!’
Kalse. I ain’t been paying attention. ‘And you?’
‘Back-to-back wedges-we’re driving out to the fucking sides! You watch ’em pour into the gap and then you charge ’em! We about face and close the vice!’
Stormy, you Hood-damned genius. ‘Agreed!’
The pain was overwhelming. He bled from wounds sheathing his body. Blow after blow hammered into him. Blind, deafened, he struck back, not even knowing if his sorcery found the enemy. He felt himself tearing loose, moments from being ripped from his flesh of cracked stone, his bones of tortured iron.
I shall become a ghost again. Lost. Where are my children? You have abandoned me-there are too many of them, they close like wolves-my children-help me-
‘You must close the gate.’
Breath?
‘Yes. Feather Witch. The Errant drowned me. I took his eye, he took my life. Never bargain with gods. His eye-I give it to you, Lifestealer. The gate-do you see it? You are drawing nearer-Lifestealer, do not stop-’
Another voice spoke. ‘They killed a dragon for this power, Icarium.’
Taxilian?
‘Its blood burned this hole-if you fail, the sky shall fill with the enemy machines-and the Nah’ruk will triumph this day. See the K’Chain Che’Malle, Icarium? They can win this-if you stop the Gath’ran Citadels, if you stop them from entering this realm. Seal the gate!’
He could see it now. He held in his hand the eye of an Elder God. Slick, soft, smeared with blood.
The wound between the realms was vast-even Kalse Uprooted could not-
‘You must build a wall-’
‘A prison!’
Feather Witch hissed, ‘Root and Blueiron, Lifestealer! Ice Haunt is not enough! You must awaken the warrens within you! Root to the rock and earth. Blueiron to hold life in your machines. Command the breach!’
‘I cannot hold. I am dying.’
‘There are children in the world, Icarium.’
‘Asane? You do not understand. You are not enough-’
‘There are children in the world. The warrens you have made from your own blood-’
Feather Witch snarled. ‘Our blood!’
‘And ours, yes. The warrens, Icarium-did you imagine they belonged to you and none other? It is too late for that. This day is the day of fire, Icarium. The children wait. The children hear.’
In his mind, even as it crumbled on all sides, he could hear a new voice, a sweet voice, one he had never heard before.
‘I dream we are three
Rutt who is not Rutt and Held
Who cannot be held-
The girl knows silence
Is a game
The boy knows the kiss
Of the Eres’al
The mother of wheeling stars
Who seeds all time
Through me they hear your need
I am the voice of the unborn
In crystal I see fire and I see smoke
I see lizards and Fathers
In crystal I see the boy and the girl.
Heal the wound, God,
Your children are close-’
Rautos whispered-the last words Icarium would remember. ‘Icarium, in the name of a blessed wife… have faith.’
Faith. He took hold of that word.
His hand closed about the eye and he heard the shriek of an Elder God, as he transformed the eye into what he needed. For Root.
A seed.
A Finnest.
Kalyth saw Kalse Uprooted plunge into the maw, and then halt as a storm of lightning tore into it. The very sky seemed to tremble, and then the ground began to shake, and as she stared, she saw stone burst upward from the plain, directly beneath Kalse. The bedrock lifted like gnarled arms, as if an enormous upended tree was flinging roots into the air.
Those roots rose yet higher, touched the base of Kalse Uprooted, and then spread in a frenzy outward. Branches of rock twisted, crowded against the edges of the gate, where fires flared only to vanish. The Wastelands seemed to grow ashen on all sides, as if the very last drops of its lifeblood were being drawn into this savage growth.
The four surviving Nah’ruk sky keeps on this side of the portal unleashed a frenzied assault upon Kalse. Stone exploded. Massive fissures ripped through, spewing molten rock-the entire city was moments from bursting apart.
The stranger fails-but, such glory! To see this! To witness such courage!