In Her Shadow(36)

Whose idea had it been for the sisters to come down here in the first place? Lucius knew. He wanted to grab Britta up in his arms, swing her around, kiss her, tell her he was glad she was safe.

Kiss her? Where had that thought come from?

There was no time to ponder it, because the wind shifted, sweeping up from the docks. The flames shot into the sky. Worse, they raced up the street toward his line.

What Lucius feared most, happened. The crowd panicked. He shouted for his men to put their backs into it as the bodies pressed against their shields. He did likewise, leaning into the man in front of him hoping this one, tiny gesture, might stem the human flood. But it wasn't enough. Nothing would be. The damn burst. His line disintegrated, and a mass of angry, scared people exploded through.

His shield wall gone, there was nothing left to do but survive. He and his men had done more than anyone could have asked. They'd gone above and beyond. He prayed they could escape the violence, rally at the garrison. He would meet them there. But first–

Lucius darted into the crowd, fighting against the current as he struggled towards the last place he'd seen Britta. He had to find her, pull her to safety before. . . Before. . .

Lucius stopped in the middle of the street as the crowd surged around him. The priestesses had set down their house breaking tools and formed a line of their own. Instead of shields, they linked hands. Britta at the head, they waded into the crowd. At the edge of the fire, the sisters started passing buckets down the line. When it reached Britta, she tossed it on the fire and sent the bucket back. A bucket at a time, the fire didn't even notice – but the crowd did. The sound of the riot faded. Around Lucius, the great mass of people hung their heads in shame.

Valex broke through the crowd and ran to Dux Lucius. "Sir! Sir! They've stopped fighting on our end. And here too, I see. What's happened?"

Frankly, Lucius wasn't entirely sure. He wasn't about to let the boy know that, though. "Tell Captain Marcus to find every bucket his men can get a hold of and start putting the fire out on his side of the city. Go!"

Valex ran off, back towards the harbor. Lucius's men formed around him, asking for orders. "Help them," he said. "Help the priestesses put out the fire." And it wasn't just his men that followed his command, but the crowd. They joined the line, carrying buckets back and forth. They formed into new lines, doubling and tripling where they attacked the flames. People who'd been hiding since the riot began, stepped out of their homes and joined the fight. As Lucius joined Britta at the head, he realized there weren't any distinct lines fighting the fire anymore – only a giant, interlocking chain.

***

It was just before dawn when the last of the embers, wetted to ashy mush, drained down the gutters towards the sea. Britta and Lucius sat in the middle of the street. Caked in soot, blood and sweat; beaten and bruised, they leaned on each other as they watched the first hints of daybreak stretch over the horizon across the harbor.

"I hate this city," Lucius said.

Britta chuckled, weak, tired, but genuine. "I don't blame you."

"Shouldn't you be off to hide from the light?"

"Now that I'm the Abbess of Night, I think I'll change that particular taboo."

"You're the Abbess of Night?"

"Yes."

"So we're not to be married?"

Britta licked her thumb. She used it to scrub grime away from a cut on his forehead. "Of course we are."

"I thought, if you're the new Abbess of Night. . ."

"We're not celibate, if that's what you're thinking. I mean, come on."

Too tired to resist, Dux Lucius threw his head back and released a great guffaw that emanated from his belly. The sound reverberated up and down the street. So tired were his men, the sisters, the citizens, they barely even lifted their heads to see what was happening. Some even dozed in the same spots they'd been trying to kill each other in hours ago.

"I like to hear you laugh," said Britta. She put an arm around his shoulder and drew him close. They rested their heads together, watching as the sea burst into a magenta light that rippled far below them.

"What happens now?" asked Britta.

"Captain Marcus is securing Weboshi. My theory was right, she was on one of our ships. Marcus said it hadn't occurred to him not to search the Regnal ships – that when I told him to search the boats in the harbor, he assumed I meant all of them. Anyway, I'll take a cohort to the Governor's manse and confront my father."

"And if he's guilty?"

Dux Lucius sighed against her. It wasn't loud, but she felt it. "Then I'll take his place."

"The Emperor won't send a replacement?"

"No. Couldn't anyway. By then, we'll be married – the two heads of this city. And when he hears how we've rebuilt it, made it better than before, he'll leave us to rule it."

"Are you sure?"

"Not even a little."

Britta dug her elbow into his rib and Lucius laughed as he told her to stop. "We can do this, Britta. Tonight proved it. Together, we can make peace between our peoples once and for all. You're smiling."

Britta leaned back on her elbows and squint at the distance. "For all the violence and destruction, it was a good night. Maybe Ankshara needed to have part of it burned away, to fertilize new growth."