“You didn’t look the other way, but I’m willing to bet you would’ve seen a fine red glow around the edges of the city, too. There’s no escape unless the Seques let us.”
“We’re going to die here, aren’t we?” Pateros asked quietly.
“It’s very possible. Make peace with whatever gods you pray to. The sun will rise in a couple hours. We’ll figure out what to do then. Try to sleep. I’ll take first watch.”
The sun broke over the tops of the business district and flooded light into the squat building where the foursome huddled. Tusque stirred slowly, letting the recently sealed wounds stretch before trying to do anything as brazen as stand. As soon as he was confident he’d feel nothing more than mild pain, he pushed himself off the bed and looked around the small room.
“Glad to see you’re still alive,” a gravelly voice said.
Turning, he saw Ixibas’ dark form leaning against the wall beside the window. The shutter was thrown wide, letting sunlight flood the room.
“Are you crazy?” Tusque asked brusquely. “Close the shutter, Boss. They’ll find us.”
“No need. Come take a look.”
Tusque was joined by the other two, as they walked to the window. Looking out, they stared at an empty street, marred by signs of struggle and death, but still empty.
“Where are they hiding?” Hollander asked. “They have to be out there.”
“I don’t see them anywhere,” Pateros said.
“That’s because they aren’t there,” Ixibas said proudly. He’d been standing at the window for the better part of an hour, scanning the city for signs of life. “When the sun started coming up, they disappeared. Their lights blinked out one after the other, as morning approached. Eventually, just before I had to shut off the thermals, there wasn’t a single living creature visible in the city.”
“And the outpost?” Hollander asked.
“I don’t know. If there’s someone inside, they won’t show up on thermals. I’ve tried raising them by radio but got nothing. Either they’re dead, or the outpost walls block the signal.”
“Where would they go?” Tusque asked, his weak voice still rumbling. “There were so many, Boss. Where’d they go?”
“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the Seque are nocturnal. They’re sleeping. That means there’s nothing between us and the edge of the city.”
He gestured to the pile of armor and weapons on the floor. “Get your things. We’re leaving this city forever.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Awakening with a start, Keryn coughed roughly. Her throat burned. As she cracked open her eyes in the dark room, smoke stung them. Though only a faint glow filled the room from ambient light in the hall, she saw thick, acrid smoke quickly filling her bedroom.
Somewhere in the barracks, either on their floor or below, a fire belched dark smoke through the halls, burning up the oxygen and threatening to overwhelm the sleeping Wyndgaart. Keryn felt lucky a violent coughing fit pulled her from deep sleep.
Coughing again, she quickly climbed from bed and looked across the room. Through the smoke and gloom, she saw Iana’s sleeping form.
Pulling her shirt over her nose and mouth to block the smoke, Keryn hurried to her roommate’s side. She was barely able to make out her shape, as more dense smoke filled the room. Reaching down, she grasped the bundle on the bed, shaking it violently to wake the sleeping Pilgrim. The bedding flattened out to reveal it was nothing more than sheets and blankets bunched deceptively in the darkness.
Though it was the middle of the night, Iana wasn’t in the room. Concerned about her roommate and friend, Keryn realized she couldn't remain in the barracks. The smoke was almost overwhelming, and she coughed hoarsely, as it burned and dried her throat. Her eyes watered, blurring her vision and cutting streaks through the soot caking her face. Staggering toward the doorway and the soft light leaking from around the doorframe, she pulled it open and rushed into the hall.
Down the length of the hallway, the overhead lights flickered, as the unseen fire burned at the wiring. The neon lights flashed pale white light through the gray and blue smoke hanging in the narrow hall like a thundercloud. Looking both ways, she couldn’t see anyone fleeing from the smoke. Unless they were trapped in their rooms, Keryn was alone in the barracks. Everyone else was evacuated.
Shaking her head, she found it difficult to believe she was alone and had been left in the burning building. No one noticed her missing or ran down the hall, screaming her name. Her lungs filling with smoke, and her throat raw from coughing, she realized she was alone in the building.
Staggering across the hall, she banged loudly on the door, trying to disprove her sinking suspicion. Hearing no answer, she reached for the handle. It was hot enough to burn her palm.
Screaming in pain, she released the handle and saw it glowing brightly in the flickering gloom. Looking at her hand with tear-filled eyes, she saw a clear burn line imprinted on her palm. Pain radiated up her forearm, leaving her feeling nauseated, as she turned from the door.
Clutching her burned hand to her chest, she stumbled up the hall toward a staircase leading to the ground floor and out of the burning Academy. As she passed each door, she felt waves of heat radiate from the walls, as the handles glowed in the heat. Ducking her head below the acrid smoke, she drove toward the last door on the left, which led to a stairwell, and, eventually, fresh air.
Keryn reached for it and paused as another jolt of pain went up her arm from her burned palm. Her hand hovered over the handle, and she felt telltale signs of heat emanating from the doorframe. As she withdrew her hand, flowers of red heat blossomed along the length of the handle, spreading until the entire handle was consumed.
Slowly, as the door heated from the unnatural fire behind it, the handle went from red to brilliant white. It glowed so brightly, she was forced to look away. The handle drooped and bent downward. Drops of liquid metal fell to the floor at her feet, burning the carpet.
Backing away, she turned to the last door at the end of the hall-an emergency stairwell that led to the roof. Though the roof wouldn‘t be safe in a maelstrom of fire that was hot enough to melt metal, she had no other option. Her only hope was finding freedom from the thick smoke and signal for help. Fighting her sense of fear, she wiped away the sweat rolling down her forehead and washed more soot into her eyes.
Tentatively tapping the door handle, she was surprised to find it cool to the touch. Quickly opening it, she looked up the unusually long stairwell. Behind her, the door clicked closed softly behind her, cutting off the smoke and flames. As it closed, the sounds of the flickering lights and distant, wavering flames disappeared.
Keryn walked up slowly, her lungs screaming for fresh air. She tried to keep her eyes on the tall door at the top of the stairs, but it remained lost in the distance. No matter how many stairs she climbed, it never came closer.
After walking for what seemed forever, her legs ached from exhaustion, and her breath came in labored gasps. Still, the doorway remained out of reach.
Resting her head in her arms, she leaned against the railing and tried to catch her breath. Slowly, her lungs relaxed, and air flowed past her torn, raw throat.
On her dry tongue, Keryn noticed an unusual tang to the air, which triggered her taste buds. Confused, she stepped up one stair, as she pushed off from the railing, and felt a seashell crunch under her heel.
Barefoot, she felt the stair’s carved, pitted texture. She stepped back to look. The sterilized gray of the Academy steps was replaced by soft pink and blue pastel coral. Looking up higher, her lips quivering, she stared up the arched walkway leading to the Shrine of Initiation. A soft breeze blew salt air across her face, drying some of the sweat on her brow. In the distance, she heard crashing waves like rolling thunder, breaking on the cliff face. Nervously, she took another step higher, moving toward the Shrine’s auditorium and the Warrior’s Circle.