Chapter Eleven: The Battle
Liam groaned and fell onto his bed limply, feeling as if he had been trampled by a herd of wild horses. Who knew that training fifteen men to fight could be so grueling? For the first time, Liam felt a twinge of guilt for all the trouble he, Aremin, and Orrin had caused their training master, Lord haMinch. Despite the fact that he was in top physical condition and had been trained by far harder taskmasters than he himself was, Liam couldn't remember ever being so exhausted. Perhaps it was the fact that, for the first time, men's lives depended on the training and information he was imparting, and combined with the constant ache of worry for Caelin, he was exhausted mentally as well as physically.
It had been five demanding, arduous, and stress-filled weeks since he had first set foot inside the city. Despite Baron's reassurances that he, at least, would know if the Islanders had reached Corus, Liam couldn't help but wonder about the fate of his family and friends. In the instance of a battle, his father, mother, and friends would all be at the front lines. It simply wasn't in them to let others fight their battles. And even if the Islanders were taking their time moving through Tortall, sacking villages and plundering from the Tortallan people, it wouldn't be long before the war would begin.
Liam's thoughts strayed once again to the school. When Baron, his usual sarcastic tone muted, had passed on Caelin's message that Lianne was a willing captive with apparently no memory of who she really was, what had previously been anger, worry, and a righteous desire to do what was right transformed into a burning rage. Lianne had been his constant companion and childhood friend from the very beginning, the only sibling who was close enough in age for him to really connect with. There was no way he could leave her in the hands of her abductors, even if she had been brainwashed to believe she belonged with them. As soon as Baron transmitted Caelin's signal and he led the men to the school, while they helped Caelin with the children, he would slip into the school, hopefully unnoticed, and find his sister.
A knock sounded briskly through the air, and Liam walked wearily over to the door and opened it. Erik smiled, walked into the room, and sat down in one of the chairs facing Liam's bed. "The men are at their respective homes now, but they're all ready to move if the signal comes tonight. Of course, they're all rather tired from the workout you gave them," he added with a laugh. "The streets are quiet, and nobody seems to have a clue that anything might happen." He paused, and a hint of anxiety crept into his voice. "Do you think it will come tonight?"
"I have no idea," Liam answered honestly, moving to sit back down on his rumpled bed. "Baron said Caelin seemed pretty sure that it would be tonight, but he said that last week as well. It has to be soon though, or it'll be too late. We can only hide our activities for so long, and I'm worried that Caelin won't be able to keep up all the magic she's doing. She isn't invincible, no matter what she seems to think." Liam tried hard to keep his voice calm and impersonal, but he could tell that Erik was not fooled in the least.
"Tell me about her," he requested, settling down in his seat. "It's not as if we have anything better to do tonight. It'll keep both of us from worrying."
"What is there to say about Caelin? I've never met anybody like her before...aside from my sisters, my mother, and Sirs Alanna and Keladry, I haven't really been in contact with strong woman. All the court ladies are empty-headed and vacuous. Even though women are beginning to take more prominent roles in our society, women with sense and strength are still pretty rare. I was beginning to worry that I would never meet a woman that was interesting and wasn't related to me. Then Caelin came," Liam began with a wistful smile as he described Caelin's history, their rather ignominious first meeting, and everything that had happened since. "I just wish that we could have some kind of future together, but it's completely impossible. She has to continue her studies, and my father expects that I'll submit to an alliance marriage." He sighed, having not wanted to bring the subject up, and decided to turn the conversation in another direction. "So what about you, Erik? I don't know much about your history at all."
"There isn't much to tell," he replied with a self-deprecating shrug. "I lived with my parents and my brother until I was twelve, then I was apprenticed to my uncle. He was the best blacksmith in the entire city, and a good man. Emmet joined me there when he turned twelve. I was just about to try and make Master blacksmith when the Islanders attacked. My parents were killed in their house, and when my uncle refused to let the Islanders use his shop as a base, they killed him and burned the shop to the ground. I was out with Emmet at the time because it was our day off. By the time we made it back, there were only ashes left. I've been working odd jobs around the city to keep Emmet fed, and of course meeting with people that were similarly inclined to resist the incursion." Erik's voice was carefully light during the recitation, but Liam could easily see that speaking about the past was difficult for the blond man.
"Well, maybe you can find a job in Corus once all this is over. A well-trained blacksmith is always in high demand. I'll even give you money if you want to start your own shop up with Emmet."
"I don't take charity money," Erik snapped back, showing a hint of temper for the first time.
"It won't be charity, it will be for services rendered. If we succeed in the plan, it will only be because of your help. And don't try to argue," Liam added, interpreting the look on Erik's face as imminent refusal, "because it's a lost cause."
There was an awkward silence after Liam's statement that seemed to fill every nook and cranny in the room until, out of nowhere, Baron's voice boomed into both their minds, It's time. She's already started to work on the door. Hurry!
"It's time." Caelin's voice rolled around the room like pealing thunder, capturing the mind of every child and, with a little magical amplification, waking Baron up from his late night doze. Caelin was aware of nearly fifty faces turned towards her own with looks of mingled fear and anticipation. Quinn and Hess stood slightly behind her like guards flanking an ancient hero. The oldest children, and those that Caelin knew had the most talent, took their places to the forefront of the room with little hesitation, following Caelin's carefully laid instructions. The rest of the children gathered in the center of the room and stood close together. If the plan didn't succeed, the children would have a better chance of survival if they worked together than if they panicked and scattered.
Satisfied that the children were ready, Caelin turned her full attention to the door and the multi-faceted shield that rippled ominously around it. For the past week, Caelin had done nothing but study the shield and search for weaknesses. To be perfectly honest, it didn't have any apparent weaknesses: it was a masterpiece of shielding work designed by a Master mage and strengthened by stolen power from fifty children. But, taking into account that every shield had weaknesses, even the most carefully crafted ones, Caelin had finally decided that it was time to take the risk of pulling it down.
Caelin walked forward until she was merely an arms length away from the glittering, semi-opaque shield. She knew that all eyes were upon her as she gathered her power reserves. Thinking back to her lessons with Numair, she knew that the only way to overcome the shield was to tap into that dangerous level of magic that would allow her to call lightning, or to destroy soldiers with a single thought. The usual inhibition was there, the image of men blackened and mutilated, red-hot metal from melted weapons bubbling around them. For one moment, Caelin felt a sick dread and knew that she couldn't get past the self-imposed blocks around her power. Then a second series of images replaced the first, ones that instilled an even deeper sense of horror, and the motivation to draw on the full extent of her power.
She saw Numair and Daine fighting together desperately against Islander mages fueled by forbidden power. She saw the children she had lived with for the past five weeks dying slowly, accusation rampant in their eyes. She saw Liam and his friends fighting desperately in the city against an army of soldiers. She saw Baron shot down from the sky by a bolt of lightning, plucked, and thrown into a garbage heap, no longer proud and free. She saw Lianne as a forbidding and dark queen, ruling over a land she no longer loved, every memory from her old life scattered to the winds. And she saw herself, bereft of all her friends, living away her life as a captive and a slave, the catalyst that set forth the destruction of her beloved home and everything she held dear.
No. It would not happen while Caelin still had breath in her body to fight back. With a cry that set the nerves of every child on edge, Caelin reached with magical hands and seized the wellspring of blue power that pooled gently in the center of her body. With a derisive laugh, she severed the tie that connected her to Lord Damian and thrust her power, in the form of supernatural lighting, directly at the barrier. The first shot, which connected directly with the center of the shield, shattered into a million tiny pieces and scattered around the room. Caelin scowled and concentrated on the magical makeup of the shield.
Yes! She could see the seams where the shield was woven together; they were barely visible to her magical senses, but now that she had seen them, they seemed to stand out in ugly black lines. Triumphantly, Caelin concentrated her fire on those seams, knowing that if they broke, the rest of the shield would break up easily. She did not feel the weeks of hunger and hard labor, or the strain she had placed on her magic by helping the children. She was lost in the ecstasy of power and magic of a level that few ever ventured into, and even fewer ever recovered from.
A swirling blue tornado ate away at the weak spots at the bottom of the shield, blue lightning continued to pound into the seams holding it together, and a supernatural bird with an uncanny likeness to Baron viciously attacked the top portion of the shield with claw, beak, and gigantic beating wings. The shield shook under the onslaught, and that first sign of weakness spurred Caelin to new heights. She was aware that somebody was laughing, high and clear peals of mirth that had an edge of insanity to them. Again the shield shuddered, and the first of the ties that held it together snapped, followed by a second and a third in rapid succession.
The image of Liam falling to an onslaught of swords, terror in his eyes, was the only figure Caelin could see as she gathered her power one last time and flung it at the shield. There was a creaking and a groaning that seemed to shake the entire school, and then the shield disintegrated into leys of scattered power. Most of these power lines fled into their original sources, the children, and the room was filled with gasps as the recipients regained the essential parts of themselves that had been stolen. The rest of the power lines, all a hideous black, fled down the hall and absolutely reeked of Lord Damian.
Caelin's knees shook and she would have collapsed if Hess and Quinn hadn't stepped forward and offered their support. As it was, she felt as if her body was screaming in pain, and she knew that she was dangerously close to exhausting all of her power. Still, they were nowhere near finished. Shaking off the helpful hands, Caelin stood on her own and looked towards the children, who were now all standing taller, but looking at her with expressions of fear, excitement, and worship. They didn't know whether to regard her as their savior, or a dangerous creature filled with uncanny power that would destroy them as soon as it saved them.
"The shield is down," she croaked, wondering why her voice felt like she had been screaming it raw. "No doubt the mages already know, and will be coming to investigate soon. Remember the spells I've taught you in the past few weeks: aim to disable, not to kill, and no heroics. We need to escape, not reap vengeance." But I want vengeance, a tiny voice screamed. They all deserve to die! All you need to do is take your power-you still have plenty-and kill! "My friends should be fighting their way in as we speak with horses and supplies. We will take the back passages and make our way as quickly as we can to the side entrance of the school. It is the least heavily guarded, and that's where my friends are. If you get separated from the group, remember what I have taught you and try to get to the side gate. We will wait as long as we can for stragglers. Goddess and Mithros bless you all."
The first sounds of confusion and of armor hastily pulled on could be heard in the hallway. Caelin's selected helpers arrayed themselves in a loose line behind her, muscles tensed for action. The first arrivals stared in horror at the children and the destroyed shield. It was a motley group of late-night guards and low-level mages that generally patrolled the halls at this hour. Like one well-oiled machine, Caelin and the children hit their stunned opponents with a variety of spells: spells to cause sleep, spells that brought on laughing fits, spells that caused the victim to move as if through molasses. With a smirk of approval, Caelin led the entire group past the disabled assailants and down a small side hall that would lead them, in a roundabout way, to the side gate. It would take longer, but fewer mages and soldiers would be able to fit into the hall and harass them that way. Caelin knew that some of the children were sobbing in fear and mental exhaustion, but she couldn't stop to check on them.
A well-timed spell from Hess took out the first guard on patrol they met before he could utter so much as a warning cry. Caelin had worked, in that last tense week, several silencing spells that clung to the group and would muffle any sounds of strife from their flight. Still, it was only a matter of time before Damian and the other powerful mages realized that their source of power was gone. Quinn and Alin, the oldest boy, a tall sandy-haired fellow with a rapier wit, took out the next group of guards and mages they met. Caelin offered them both a tense smile as she continued to lead the way. Even though she had thoroughly explored these back hallways when she could get away for a time, they were still unfamiliar, and had the annoying tendency to all look exactly the same. Every once in a while she cast a directional spell to ensure that they were heading to the western side of the school.
They were halfway to their target when the first group of the powerful mages caught up to them. One lassoed a child that had fallen behind and dragged her back, wailing in terror as he stripped her completely of magical power and left her to gasp out her life on the cold flagstones. Somewhere deep inside Caelin was weeping as she mustered her warriors and went to meet the threat. Simple distraction spells would not defeat these mages, as Caelin knew, and hoped that her helpers knew as well. Hess was the first to engage with one of the mages, and he was wielding light green lightning as if he had always done so. Caelin turned her attention to the mage with the most power and sent an eager tornado at him. He banished it with a flick of his hand and smiled arrogantly at her as he sent a storm of magical bees designed to break her concentration with their stinging bites. These vanished when they hit her own defenses, and she smirked right back, and before he could recover from his surprise that the attack failed, uttered a word of power that Numair had only spoke of once, and then laughed as the stunned mage turned into a stringy, unhappy looking oak tree. Somewhere, a disapproving voice kept repeating that she shouldn't use words of power, because they always had an unexpected effect somewhere else in the world, but Caelin had no time to listen to it.
She realized that the rest of the mages had been taken care of and continued to lead the group forward. This time their flight was successful, and they reached the side gate, which was manned by ten bored looking guards. Caelin, Hess, Quinn, and Alin easily took care of them, and for the first time Caelin felt a leap of hope. Now all they needed to do was make their way through the courtyard and to the gate surrounding the school, where hopefully Liam and the other men would be waiting with the horses. The first sight that met Caelin's eyes was Baron, flying in great circles in the night air. Caelin led the group quickly in the direction Baron was headed. About fifty feet from the gate, she could see that the rest of the Islander guards had been alerted and were concentrating on a group of a dozen young men wielding a variety of weapons. Caelin strained her eyes, trying to find Liam, but in the confusion and darkness it was impossibly to tell.
"So, it seems the young street rat is not all that she pretended to be." Lord Damian's voice was smooth and delightful, a knife that cut through the air and plunged directly into Caelin's chest. He appeared from nowhere, flanked by almost twenty mages. "I wondered who was meddling with my draining spells, but I incorrectly assumed that they were just in need of replacement. I had other situations to deal with, including the sacking of your capital city. They never knew what was coming, I assure you. There really is nothing left to fight for. You might as well give up. I will spare your life; it would not due to kill such an intelligent and promising mage. I will train you myself, and you shall have a position of power in the new court. All you need to do is surrender."
For one terrifying moment, Caelin felt herself considering the option of surrender. Had it all been for nothing? Was Tortall already lost?
He lies. Baron's comforting voice disrupted Damian's own melodic influence and sent a rush of strength and warmth through Caelin's limbs. Not for the first time, Caelin wondered about the magical powers of the phoenix. I would know if the capital had fallen. It is given to my kind the knowledge of magic and what is hidden to the mortal eye. All is not lost. Now you must fight, for your own kind and the safety of all beings that live in peace within the kingdom. Fight.
Caelin stared at Lord Damian, who was watching her with a cocky expression on his nearly perfect face, acting as if her response was assured. Drawing herself tall and proud, aware of the anxious faces behind her, watching and waiting, Caelin smirked and replied, "You know, Lord Damian, what they say about those that 'assume' anything. And you, my friend, are the biggest ass I know."
"So be it," the mage answered in a tone that seemed almost regretful. "It ends here."
Liam crouched in the shadow of the wall and watched with anxiety as his men engaged the many guards that were streaming from all corners of the school. They couldn't hold the gates open forever, and there was still no sign of Caelin and the children. Then, with a dawning hope, Liam watched as Caelin appeared at the far doorway, glowing a pale blue from extended use of the Gift. She was thin and emaciated from five weeks of starvation, but to his eyes, still as beautiful and strong as ever. It took every inch of willpower he possessed not to rush over and protect her from all comers. Even more astonishing was the fact that there were still nearly fifty children with her. Had she managed to save them all?
They started the long walk across the grounds towards the gate, and were nearly there when suddenly, with no warning, a group of vicious looking mages appeared out of nowhere. Liam cursed silently as the leader spoke with Caelin. For one moment it looked as if she would falter, and then a new strength seemed to flood through her and she replied scathingly to the mage. The two groups engaged in fierce battle, Caelin fighting with the other mage and the rest of the children ganging up in groups of twos and threes against the other mages. Liam knew that the mage Caelin was fighting was strong, powerful, and with a Gift that was strong and un-weakened by starvation and prolonged use.
Still, Liam had no choice but to turn away from the fiercely raging battle and slip unnoticed across the grounds and into the school. He had another mission to complete. Liam walked carefully through the dimly lit halls, sometimes stopping in amazement to see the guards and mages that had already fallen to the children. He could tell the ones that Caelin had taken care of, because they still glowed faintly blue in the dark. At one of these groups, he regarded a small, crumpled body with sorrow. So Caelin had lost one of her charges.
Liam angrily turned away from the dreadful scene and took the nearest set of stairs by twos. He knew, from Baron, that Caelin had found Lianne in the last room to the left on the fourth floor. The school was deserted, all soldiers and mages having been called to the battle raging at the western gate. When Liam reached the fourth floor, he practically flew down the hall with his long legs and pulled up to the door. He tried it half-heartedly, hoping that it wasn't locked, but it refused to open. Luckily, Liam had come prepared, and he took out an old key ring that was arrayed not with keys but with strips of metal of varying thickness, length, and strength. After regarding the lock for at most a minute, Liam selected a strip of medium length that was little thicker than a needle, but made of the strongest metal that could be found in all of Tortall. It was only the work of a few seconds, and not for the first time, Liam thanked the Crooked God that he was on close speaking terms with the former leader of the Rogue.
As soon as the lock's tumblers slid into place, Liam swung open the door and felt his heart leap with uncontained joy as his eyes lit upon the slim, dark haired girl sitting in the corner. She turned with surprise, and then relief flooded through her eyes. "At last, someone is here to explain what's happening! My guard left an hour ago without a word and there are all sorts of lights flashing on the grounds. What is happening? Are you here to protect me?" Lianne's voice was still the same, but she spoke with a breathless and flighty manner that was completely wrong, and Liam had never seen his sister bat an eye in the face of danger.
"Lianne, don't you recognize me?" He questioned hopelessly, having hoped that perhaps Caelin's efforts with the mages would have broken the spells on Lianne as well.
"Why does everybody keep calling me that?" His sister wailed, looking genuinely confused and terrified. "My name is Irena of Manchu, and I certainly don't recognize you. Actually, you look nothing like my normal guards. Who are you? I demand you explain yourself at once."
"I'm your brother and..."
"I don't have a brother!"
"You only think you don't have a brother," Liam corrected her. "But you are my sister, Lianne of Conte, and a princess of Tortall. The Islanders kidnapped you several months ago and they have brainwashed you. I assure you, you are my sister."
"No," Lianne snapped, suddenly seeming for all the world like any of the noble ladies Liam hated. "My family is of ancient Copper Isle blood, and our descendents go back a thousand years. I am the only daughter of the king's brother, and I am his favored niece. I am to marry the king's son and heir within the year, and I will become Queen of the Copper Isles, and," she added maliciously, "of Tortall. Whoever you are, I demand that you desist with your lies at once and leave immediately."
Liam sighed, but his nerves were stretched taught and he didn't have time to try and convince his sister of her true identity. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. You have to come with me."
Lianne screeched in terror as Liam advanced on her, and she beat at him helplessly with her tiny fists as he swept her off her feet and out the door of her room, not even needing two hands to carry her. The other rested on his sword, and he resisted the urge to whack his beloved sister with the flat end as she screeched lividly at him and cursed him with every foul word she knew. If only she knew what she was saying, she would certainly realize that she couldn't be from the Copper Isles, because all of the best curses she used were Tortallan.
Luckily for Liam, and unluckily for his friends fighting at the gate, Liam didn't encounter a single guard or mage on his way out of the school. With Lianne screaming the whole way, Liam made his way through the back passages and then out the gate he had entered. He could tell that at least some of his men had survived and were still fighting at the gate, and most of the mage lights had disappeared. Actually, all had died out except two: dark black that could be seen even in the darkness of the night, and brilliant blue that was as familiar to him as if it was his own.
Liam started running to the scene, no longer aware of his sister, his eyes trained on a single small form.
Caelin was aware, in a vague sense, that she was tired. She knew, theoretically, that her limbs were trembling, sweat was dripping down her face and the back of her neck irritatingly, and it mingled with sluggishly flowing blood from a wound on her left arm and a gash on her leg. She also supposedly knew that the children had defeated the other mages, although not without loss from their side, and that the men at the gate were holding their own, and even pushing back the Islander guards. The battle was going their way. Caelin knew all of this, in some small part of her mind. The rest, however, was concentrating completely on Lord Damian.
He was more powerful than Caelin had every suspected. After their brief verbal skirmish, Caelin had struck the first blow, relying childishly on the lightning that had worked so well against the other mages. It hadn't even reached Lord Damian; he had dismissed it with a disdainful wave of his aristocratic hand. Before Caelin could recover her wits, the mage had returned with his own wave of black lightning. Caelin's shields mostly deflected it, but one part wormed its way through and struck her leg, drawing an involuntary cry from Caelin as she felt her skin char, and a calm smile from Lord Damian.
That wakeup call succeeded in capturing Caelin's complete attention, and that annoying voice in her head laughed scornfully as she carefully re-formed her shields and counterattacked with a spell she had only read about, but never tried, which bubbled around Damian and sucked all the air away. Caelin smiled in satisfaction for about five seconds as the mage choked and sputtered, before he succeeded in banishing it. The color hadn't even returned to his face before he sent a magical serpent across the grass, at least ten feet in length and hissing with venom as it headed directly towards her. For a moment Caelin panicked, and then she belatedly realized that it was an illusion as Damian's real attack, one that caused the very ground around her to tremor and buck, almost succeeded in sucking her into the earth.
Caelin succeeded in calming the ground and tried another spell, this one designed to act like her previous tornadoes, except with one important difference: it was twenty feet tall. For one moment, Caelin rejoiced to see fear in Damian's eyes as the tornado bravely attacked his shields. It ate away the outer layer before Damian destroyed it. He was now turning a lovely purple shade of rage, which succeeded in ruining his perfect visage, and he attacked with vigor now, sending a dozen black knives towards her along with his own shield-destroying tornado. Caelin blocked the tornado, and most of the knives, but one made it through and hit her left arm with a sickening thud. Caelin could feel the spurt of blood from the wound and swayed violently before trying to use the same word of power she had before. This time, Damian grew roots for half a second before they disappeared, and Caelin knew then that she was at the end of her power reserves. A quick glance inside with magical sight revealed an empty pool with only a trace of dim blue fire left. Her shields flickered in and out of sight, and Caelin could see triumph visible in Damian's eyes as he slowly stalked over to her.
A furious yell rose out of the deafening silence and Caelin turned in horror, feeling as if the world was in slow motion, as a tiny blond bundle hurtled towards Lord Damian, green lightning streaming from his hands. Caelin was again aware of that distant screaming, and knew that it was her own voice, as Hess threw himself completely against Lord Damian. Despite his lack of training, Hess had eaten away at several layers of shields before Damian realized that someone else was attacking him, and with cold fury, waved a hand at Hess. A bolt of black lightning struck Hess in the chest; he faltered and his eyes, usually so brilliant and defiant, clouded over in confusion as he slipped to the ground.
Behind her, Caelin heard Quinn sob and Arin curse in anger. Before she could prevent them, two of the other older students also flung themselves at Damian. They were less successful than Hess, despite their advanced age, because Damian was wary now. They had barely let their original spells fly before Damian counter attacked and they fell as well. Caelin knew that the children would keep attacking down to the very last, and could feel Quinn and Arin gathering their own power.
"No!" She screamed angrily, using the last bit of her power to prevent the other children from sacrificing themselves. "You have no chance against him. Try and make for the gate-now!"
She could feel Quinn and Arin's indecision, but eventually they rallied the children and started moving towards the gate. The waiting young men went forward and helped the children. Damian watched this development with what looked like amusement. "Do you really think they have any chance of escape?" he asked conversationally. "You have no power or strength left, and are hardly an obstacle. The men you have killed? They are but a fraction of those at my beck and call in the city. They won't even make it to the outer gates before they are dragged back. The children will remain in captivity, and the men will be executed in front of the entire city. All of your efforts have been for nothing, and you have given many of these innocent children painful deaths that could have been staved off for years. That blond boy over there," he motioned with a wave of his be-ringed hand, "would have been a most powerful mage. Now he is dead, and it is your fault. You, who thought you could take on the greatest mage in the world."
"You aren't the greatest mage in the world," Caelin croaked. "My teacher Numair is the most powerful mage."
"And where is he now?" Damian questioned. "He is not here, your friends have abandoned you, and now you will die. I would have helped you, but you chose to fight, and now you pay the price."
A great wave of magic started forming around Damian, and Caelin knew sickeningly that this was the end. She had no reserves, no shields, nothing. She was going to die, and the entire effort was going to fail.
Suddenly, a screech split the sky, and from the air, a burning form shot straight at Damian. It was Baron, and he no longer looked like a typical hawk with a few discolored wings. He was not only covered in flames, but he was the fire, and Caelin suddenly recalled all of the legends of phoenixes, and how they were born in fire, lived with fire inside, and died in fire. Baron hit Damian's shields in a blaze of light that made the area around the school seem as if it were day. Damian's shields buckled and disappeared in a flash of smoke, and he staggered, but remained standing.
Caelin's voice gave out, but her mind and soul screamed as the bond she shared with the brave phoenix severed. Anger and despair beat out all rationality, and Caelin did something Numair and her other teachers had always cautioned against. She turned to herself and took every bit of magic she could find, drawing from the life force that flickered and danced inside her, and formed a great blue sword that continued to light the sky that had been illuminated by Baron's sacrifice. The sword flew directly towards Lord Damian and buried into his chest all the way to the hilt, lighting the mage with blue witch fire. The magical swords solidified upon contact, and blood spurted in a great rush from the lord's chest. Caelin watched as her opponent crumpled to the ground and lay still.
For a few brief seconds, Caelin swayed where she was standing, dimly aware that the last spell had tapped so deeply into her life force that it was draining with alarming speed. She took one halting step towards the now empty gate and fell to the ground.
Liam watched Caelin's battle with the mage from only twenty feet away, noticed by neither Caelin nor the enemy mage. He watched three of the students die, and then withheld a shout of horror as Baron plunged directly into the shields with a brilliant flash. He watched Caelin's final spell succeed in killing the mage. He watched as she screamed without a voice, and he watched as she fell to the ground. That succeeded in spurring Liam as he ran across the ground, not even registering Lianne's screams mingled with complaints and curses. He reached Caelin at the same time as Erik did, who had been watching from the gate.
"Is that your sister?" Erik asked distractedly as he knelt over Caelin's still body. He had multiple wounds that were bleeding with varying intensity, but he didn't seem to be in any imminent danger.
"Yes," Liam answered in the same kind of distant tone. "Is she all right?" he demanded, fear coursing its way through his veins. It was the same kind of icy dread he felt whenever his parents were at war, and when Caelin and Lianne had been kidnapped.
Erik shook his head unhappily. "I don't think so. I'm no healer, but I can tell she's lost a lot of blood, and she obviously has no magic left. Her pulse is weak...I don't think she's going to make it through the grueling ride we're going to have to take if we want to make it out of here."
"No," Liam snapped, not willing to listen to his words. "There has to be another way." He paused, and his eyes, now nearly black with worry, lit upon his sister, who was cowering in the grass. "Lianne! You're a healer, you can help her!"
"My name is not Lianne!" she wailed in hopeless fear and anger. "I am certainly not a healer, that's for commoners, and I wouldn't help her even if I could! This is the dirty and disgusting slave that called me Lianne in the first place. Acted as if I should know someone like her."
Somewhere Liam was aware that if he had been in his right mind, he never would have done what he did then. With a roar that, although he didn't know, sounded just like the Dragon he was named after, Liam picked up his sword and held it with a trembling hand against Lianne's delicate neck. "Make no mistake, Irene of Manchuria or what in gods name you want to call yourself, you are a healer, and if you don't heal her right now, I will kill you."
Lianne squeaked in terror and rushed over to Caelin's side. Her eyes were closed and her pale face was covered in bruises and dirt. Trembling, Lianne placed her hands over the girl. For several minutes, nothing happened, because Irena of Manchu really had no idea how to go about healing a person. Somehow, though, the need for healing pulled the power buried in Lianne out in a stream of bright green light, and suddenly a flood of color rushed into Caelin's cheeks. Liam placed a hand gently on Caelin's neck and felt her pulse steady and strengthen. It was still too weak to really comfort him, but for the first time, Liam allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope.
"Good," he said roughly to contain the emotion he was feeling. "Erik, are the kids all ready to go?"
"They've probably already reached the gates and left the city, as long as they could fight their way through. We're going to have to hurry to catch them." As he said this, he reached out an arm and grabbed Lianne, who had been sneaking back towards the castle. "Not so fast, miss," he said dryly. "You're coming with me."
"How many horses do we have left?" Liam asked as they made their way to the gate, Liam carrying Caelin, who weighed next to nothing, and Erik dragging Lianne none too gently.
"We've two left."
"All right," Liam answered with a sigh. "Let's get out of this forsaken city. We're going home."