Flamecaster (Shattered Realms, #1)(120)

The storm was still raging with a ferocity Ash hadn’t seen since he came south. Even with his blackbird cloak, he was soaked through before he’d gone a block. He was halfway up Citadel Hill when he heard it—a thunderous boom behind him. He swung around in time to see the second explosion, and the third. A fireball rose from wharfside, raining burning debris over the warehouses and taverns near the docks. Ash was glad it was raining, making it less likely that the buildings would catch. By the time the last of the charges went off, the ship was engulfed in flames.

“Sail that, Strangward,” Ash whispered. And then, “Thank you, Jenna.” He couldn’t wait to see her face.

When he caught his first glimpse of the keep, he nearly stumbled. The tallest of the towers—the one that housed Jenna’s new quarters—was broken, a large bite having been taken out of the very top. How would that have happened in the short time he’d been away?

He hurried on. Though it was the small hours of the morning, the streets grew more and more crowded as he approached the close. He began seeing chunks of stonework and masonry lying about, bits of the demolished tower. One woman was sweeping grit and stone from her stoop in the rain, her face set and angry.

“What’s going on?” he asked her.

“A demon smashed into the tower and knocked it half down,” she said. “I was asleep, mind you, so I didn’t see it. People said it lit up the whole sky, it burned so bright.”

“A demon?” Ash stared at her. “Did they say what it looked like?”

“It had wings and a long tail. It looked like a flying snake. Or a dragon.”

“A dragon,” Ash repeated numbly.

“Aye,” the woman said with the sort of grim satisfaction some people have when they’ve been proven right. “It must’ve been sent down here by the witch in the north, to punish us.” She made the sign of Malthus and continued sweeping.

“Was anybody hurt?” he asked, his heart sinking.

“You’ll have to ask them that know more,” she said, nodding toward the keep.

The dragon he’d freed had flown straight to the castle. Was that the purpose of the emissary’s visit—to carry out an attack on Arden from the inside?

And Ash had helped make it happen. He’d launched a new kind of arrow into the sky without knowing where it would land.

Within the close, blackbirds milled about, their hands on their swords as if they anticipated another attack at any moment. Some of the officers seemed to be questioning witnesses. Ash approached one of them. “What’s going on?” he said.

“There was an attack on the castle. Maybe a bomb thrown from a catapult, we don’t know.”

“Was anybody hurt?”

“I dunno for sure. I been outside the whole time. Somebody said they found a couple bodies up near the top, where the break is.”

“Who was it?” Ash said hoarsely. “The bodies, I mean?”

The blackbird shrugged. “I guess they couldn’t tell, they was burned so bad.”

“Thank you,” Ash said. Fear and despair welled up in him like vomit. “I’ll go look for myself.”

A few of the nobility with quarters in the castle close had gathered in the Great Hall, which likely seemed safer than anywhere out on the grounds. In one corner, Father Fosnaught was holding a prayer service for a rapt audience, most on their knees on the stone floor.

Ash spotted Botetort, standing with a small group of retainers, issuing orders. He drifted close enough to hear.

“Beauchamp. Take five men to Brightstone Keep and stay there. Warn the steward to keep the children inside and the livestock in the riverside pastures so they can keep an eye on them. We’ve sent messages to Middlesea and Baston Bay to put them on alert, but the last thing we need is stories about dragons and witches spreading through the countryside. Granger and Larue have escorted the prince and princess to safety in the countryside until we see what’s what.”

“Lord Botetort,” Ash said, joining the group. “What’s happened? Is anyone in need of a healer?”

Botetort gripped his elbow, hard, and pulled him aside. “We are not entirely sure,” he said, speaking low and fast. “It seems that the dragon escaped from the emissary’s ship and attacked the keep. We don’t know whether it was an accident or part of a plan, and if it is a plan, who is behind it.”

“Where is the emissary?” Ash asked.

“Nobody knows. He seems to have disappeared. The bodies of two of his guards were found in the tower, in the”—he lowered his voice—“in the cell where the magemarked girl was being kept. Where they had no business being.”

Why were they in the tower at the time of the dragon attack? Had they called it there somehow?

“And the girl? What about her?”

“We haven’t found her. Her body could be up there somewhere, buried in rubble. Or she might be lying anywhere within a mile of the keep. The beast hit right at the level of her room.”

Had the empress meant to murder Jenna all along? Or had Strangward been ordered to kill her if they hadn’t come to terms?

Ash felt the pain of remorse like a knife in his gut. If she’s dead, then it’s my fault, he thought. It didn’t matter that King Gerard, Strangward, and the empress had all played a role—that did not diminish his own guilt. It was his father’s death all over again.