Condor riders placed small cannons onto the backs of their birds, capable of spitting out fire pellets like a hailstorm. Simon's sword could swat away the pellets that came from a revolver, but even a hundred swords couldn't counteract the scattershot from cannons. These cannons would have caused the explosion up the road, destroying buildings, flushing out all those in hiding. Killing those who could not leave.
Darrow.
If I had not yelled at Celia, she would have been with Darrow. She could have helped him escape. Why had I been so foul to her?
Another explosion shook the earth behind me. "Take cover!" I yelled to anyone within reach of my cry.
In addition to the cannons, each rider held a disk bow. To my horror, they were firing down black disks like flower petals at a wedding. Each disk greeted its victim with slashing wounds that left screams all around me, including one man who had been running at my side. That disk could have been meant for me.
Silver disks would have been bad enough. They had injured Darrow and killed the garrison who had been escorting me out of the Lava Fields. Silver disks were dangerous, but they weren't magic.
Dominion soldiers carried disks created by Lord Endrick, ones that showcased his cruelty. There were disks of many different colors, but black disks were among the worst. They brought instant death, no matter where the victim was hit. The other colors' effects had never been explained to me, and I didn't want to find out.
Suddenly, an explosion above sliced through the air and I instinctively ducked, covering my head with my arms. Pieces of the wooden buildings flew apart, their planks bursting from within. The flying shrapnel hit at least one condor, felling it. Its rider was instantly attacked and his blades stolen by the Silvenians. When it was safer, I stood again, keeping my sword ready with one hand, but with the other, shielding my eyes to better see what had happened.
The explosion revealed an enormous series of small cannons on rotating platforms and at varying heights. Their operators, almost certainly Coracks, began firing at the condors, hoping to chase them away. The condors tried fighting back, but were repelled by the cannons. Never in my life had I seen such a thing, or even conceived of it.
The Coracks might prove effective against Endrick after all.
Then from the distance the sound of barking dogs could be heard, running toward us. More dogs than I could count ran into the battle, immediately attacking the legs of the soldiers, bringing them down and dragging them away. They left everyone else entirely alone.
About fifty or sixty Silvenians had joined me this far into battle, all of them standing by, watching the dogs, as I was doing. It was better to let the Coracks take over now.
I ran again, pushing through the crowd, retracing my steps toward the bookshop. The condors hadn't gotten this far south yet, and I hoped the Coracks would keep them busy where they were.
The fallen wagon where I had stood was just ahead, though someone had moved it to act as a sort of barricade where a group of children were hiding. No, that wouldn't be good enough.
"Run!" I called to them. "You must leave town."
The older ones took the younger children by the hand or in their arms. "Don't stop running until it's quiet," I told them. "Be brave."
And then I gave myself the same advice. The bookshop was just ahead. I harbored all my courage, or what was left of it, and tightened my grip on the sword. I had to get in and out before any condors came.
But as I ran, I heard a single screech overhead, piercing the air and sending a spike of fear through me. Run faster, I told myself. Get to Darrow.
I put a hand on the bookshop door, but as I did, a boom from cannon fire filled the air above me. Before I opened the door, the bookshop itself exploded. The blast threw me backward, almost to the middle of the road, the air bursting from my lungs.
Even as I lay there, reeling from disorientation, one thought broke through.
Darrow.
I screamed and flew to my feet, dizzy from shock and with my ears ringing like steeple bells. I wasn't steady, but at least I was moving.
The bookshop was gone, nothing more than strewn pieces of brick, long splinters of broken wood, and shards of glass. What didn't explode outward had collapsed into a deep hole in the ground where there had once been tunnels and a meeting room.
Where Darrow had been.
I stood there, suddenly frozen, incapable of movement, or rational thought, or of conceiving the faintest idea of what to do next. Should I wait here, or run? Or dig through the wreckage? Maybe Darrow was still alive.
But he couldn't be. Not unless he had already gotten out on his own. Like everyone else, he would've gone south.
The same rider that had just leveled the bookshop released another round of fire pellets farther down the road, exploding a second building there. Darrow couldn't have gone far enough on his own to escape this
devastation.
I smelled fire. Smoke began rising from the bookshop, its immense heat licking my face and forcing me back. The flames seemed to be coming from below the wreckage. Fire was inside the tunnels, any that had not already collapsed.
And giant shadows crossed above me. More condors.