Their litter banked hard to the left, and the two of them held on tight.
Tristan breathed a huge sigh of relief when he saw that the palace was still intact. Its lights shone brightly, providing a beacon visible through the rising smoke. Faegan and the others milled about on the roof. They looked up eagerly when the shadows of the arriving warriors fell over them.
As the litter descended, Tristan could see that the grounds were still littered with the wounded. At least the Orb of the Vigors would cause no more harm, he thought. He leapt from the litter, Wigg quickly following him.
Shailiha was the first to greet him. She took him into her arms, a question in her tear-filled eyes.
"Celeste?" she asked.
Tristan shook his head.
Shailiha hugged him tighter. "I'm so sorry," she said.
"I know," he answered.
She looked back into his face and studied him. "What has happened to you?" she asked. "Are you all right?"
Tristan caressed his sister's cheek. "Yes," he answered. "My blood is finally healed."
He was about to speak again when they all heard a massive explosion. As a group, they ran to the edge of the rooftop and looked over.
To their horror, part of one of the walls surrounding the palace had been smashed to bits by an Earthshaker. Raising its head in triumph, the monster gave an earsplitting scream. Demonslavers followed, eagerly waving their swords.
His hands balled up into fists, Tristan burned with rage. His worst fears had been realized.
With a swipe of its tail, the Earthshaker destroyed another section of the wall. The drawbridge tumbled down to crash headlong into the moat. Demonslavers quickly lifted it to span the water, and in a moment they were pouring through the entrance, while hungry K'tons descended into the palace grounds.
Soon the entire place was alive with the sounds of battle. The wounded victims of the orb tried to run for their lives, but there was no place for them to hide. The K'tons pounced on them, tearing them limb from limb and devouring them greedily.
Tristan look over at Faegan. The wizard nodded; they were ready. Tristan then hurried to Traax.
"This is the most desperate battle of our lives, but I cannot lead you," he said. "My place is here this time. You know that."
Traax bowed his head slightly. "I understand, my lord," he answered. "No matter what happens, it has been an honor to serve by your side."
Another explosion rocked the palace. Tristan looked over at Duvessa, Dax, and Ox and waved them to him. They were by his side in an instant, dreggans drawn. He looked at each of them for what he feared would be the last time. With the same thought in his heart, Traax gently wrapped his wings around Duvessa.
"Follow Traax's orders to the letter!" Tristan said. "There are too many of the enemy to defeat by yourselves. Most, if not all, of you may die this night. But you have to buy us time, time for the wizards to work the craft. Above all, you must somehow keep the enemy from taking this roof. Go now!"
The four of them came to attention and raised their dreggans high. Their blades flashed briefly in the firelight.
"We live to serve!" they shouted, then ran to the edge of the roof and launched themselves.
Another explosion shook the building. Fire began to lick at the inner ward of the palace. Tristan looked over the edge.
Most of the surrounding walls were gone. The Black Ships were fast approaching, their dark hulls looming in the nighttime sky. Unaware that their leader was dead, the captains rained azure bolts down upon the beleaguered city with abandon, killing anything in their path. Soon the Black Ships would sail over what was left of the walls and the battle would be over.
Tristan ran across the shaking rooftop to join Wigg, Faegan, and Jessamay. The three mystics were huddled together, talking urgently.
"Are you ready?" he pleaded. He turned back to see that the first of the Black Ships was already passing over the shattered palace walls. "It must happen now!"
Faegan gave him a weary nod. "We will try," he said.
Wigg and Faegan went to the very edge of the roof. Jessamay stood to one side. The two wizards raised their hands and closed their eyes.
The resulting explosion was deafening, filling the heavens with a thunderous roar. For a split second, a spot of azure light appeared high in the sky, directly over the center of the city. Far brighter than any star, it burst apart, sending brilliant, concentric circles of light cascading for leagues in every direction. As they spread and fell, the circles gradually vanished. In their place a massive azure dome formed, covering the entire city of Tammerland. Its sheer beauty and raw power resonated everywhere at once.
Tristan took Shailiha's hand. Together they stared in wonder at the awesome work of the craft. The trap had closed. There was now no way out for any of them, friend or foe.
As Wigg and Faegan held the dome in place, Tristan turned toward Jessamay. The future of their world now rested upon her abilities alone. Stepping to the edge of the roof, Jessamay raised her hands and closed her eyes.
Across the city, glowing, liquid azure appeared, dripping slowly from the surviving houses, their roofs, and even from the remains of the palace walls. As the precious seconds ticked by, Tristan looked east toward the sections of the city that were still intact. The oozing stuff was showing up everywhere; already eerie, winding rivulets snaked down into the streets and alleys, forming countless, glowing pools. The mission Faegan had sent the other members of the Conclave out on two nights earlier had been successful.
From the first of the glowing pools, a creature took shape. As its head came up to take living form from the enchanted, primordial ooze that gave it birth, it turned to examine the bloody scene with its slanted, yellow eyes.
The first of the Wingwalkers rose.
The Wingwalkers, Tristan thought, as yet another of the Earthshakers' explosions rocked the palace-the same terrible breed of beings that had nearly killed him, along with Wigg and Celeste, in the bowels of the Recluse. Failee's onetime servants, born again from the fluid that Wigg had risked his life to gather in Parthalon. Faegan's attempts to magnify the volume of Wingwalker fluid had been successful! Now tens of thousands of the creatures were rising to the aid of the palace.
Or were they? Tristan's blood ran cold as he suddenly remembered the other, equally important half of the wizards' plan.
Had Faegan and Jessamay been successful in all they had needed to accomplish? Which side of the craft now owned the Wingwalkers' allegiance-the Vigors or the Vagaries?
Tristan held his breath as he watched multitudes of the dreadful things soar up toward the palace roof. As Wigg and Faegan used all their power to support the azure dome, Jessamay raised her hands higher. Thousands of Wingwalkers gathered before her, their number growing by the moment. Legions of slanted, yellow eyes stared at her.
Jessamay's gaze was as hard as granite. Lowering her arms, she pointed down into the palace courtyard.
"Kill," she said.
The Wingwalkers didn't hesitate. At Jessamay's command they turned and tore into the Jin'Sai's foes-those who served the Vagaries and possessed blood signatures that leaned leftward.
With their talons and long, pointed teeth, the Wingwalkers were an equal match for the demonslavers and K'tons. But merely being their equal would not win the Wingwalkers the day, Tristan knew. Their victory would be in their superior numbers. Turning to look back at the northeastern section of the city, he saw thousands upon thousands more rise to join in the fray.
Breathless, he watched as the Wingwalkers descended upon an Earthshaker, digging in with their talons. Screaming in agony, the Earthshaker shook its huge head wildly as the creatures bit great hunks from its flesh. The demonslaver astride it also screamed as the Wingwalkers plucked him from the Earthshaker's back and tore him apart.