Bloodleaf (Bloodleaf 1)

He screeched, “Halt!”

I lifted my voice. “I have what you want. You have what I want. I suggest a trade.”

On his knees, Zan wore an expression of naked emotion; hope, fear, and fury fought side by side with a longing so keen and clear, it nearly broke me. Toris yanked him to his feet. “I would request we begin our negotiations inside. Will you join me in the Great Hall, dear Princess?”

I did not respond. Instead, I tipped the vial of blood a second time.

“All right,” he said testily. “We can negotiate here.”

“If you want this blood returned to you, you must first open the gates,” I said. “Let these people evacuate the city. You and I both know that you kept them inside only to motivate Prince Valentin to marry Lisette. Their purpose has been served. Let them go.”

Toris waved off the guards, and they stepped aside to allow people to pass, though nobody moved. Then he cocked his head to the right, anticipating my follow-up demand for Zan’s release. He knew I would ask; I knew he would refuse. If there was one thing to be said about Toris and me, it was that we understood each other.

“When the city is empty, I will exchange the Founder’s blood for Prince Valentin. If any of these people are not allowed to go freely from the city, I will spill it. If any of your men harass any of mine, I will spill it. And if Valentin dies before I come to make the exchange and the wall comes down, I will die spilling it. Am I clear?”

“You’ve been making so very many demands, dear Princess. For this to be fair, I must be allowed to make some of my own.” His voice lost its jovial lilt. “We’ll meet at the top of the tower at dusk. Come alone. Come alone and I will accept the terms.”

The Founder’s actual blood was still hidden at the top of the tower. If I meant to barter for Zan’s life, I’d need the real vial. “We are in agreement.”

“No, Aurelia! Get out! Go!” Zan cried as Toris fastened his hands behind his back and yanked him to his feet. Then, with his luneocite knife still poised at his neck, Toris withdrew toward the castle.

“The tower!” Toris said before he disappeared, with Zan, behind the great castle doors. “Before night falls.”

I turned and bellowed, “Open the gates!” As I said it, a bolt of lightning sailed down and struck a high, steepled window less than a block behind me. In little more than a second, the aged timber lit up like a torch.

The crowd became a stampede as lightning struck again. And again. Wails of fear and frustration were drowned out by the ear-splitting blasts of thunder. A number of Toris’s implacable guards tried to funnel the furor toward the gates and were quickly trampled underfoot.

“We’ve got to get down there!” Kellan said as sparks flew past our faces and landed by our feet. My soldiers and I scrambled over the roof’s edge to the ladder and onto the ground just as the thatching began to smolder. The alley was narrow but provided a thin window to the forested mountains of Achlev’s eastern segment. The mountains were shimmering with heat as the fire advanced across them in delicate, curling patterns, like red-gold glitter trimming black net lace. I marveled at how swiftly it had begun.

“Cover your face!” Kellan demanded. “Don’t breathe the smoke!”

We combed the streets, sounding the alarm and searching for stragglers. Those who couldn’t make it to High or Forest Gates we brought with us as we headed to the docks even as great arcs of lightning were striking at increasingly short intervals. I found myself counting the seconds, knowing that my chances of saving Zan and the spaces between each strike were dwindling at the same exponential rate.

We were a hundred feet from the pier when lightning struck the mast of a

moored battleship, igniting the black powder of its cannons, and the entire thing went up like a great ball of fire, showering us with burning ash and dust. We rushed the final distance only to find that the pier was gone and the churning water was polluted with debris: shattered planks and scraps of canvas and bits of tattered clothing. The last large piece of the ship’s hull was still on fire on top of the water, scattering orange light across the red waves. There were bodies in the water, too—?people who’d been on the pier, waiting to board and get themselves to safety and never had the chance.

I gripped Kellan’s sleeve. He said, “These remaining boats have taken too much damage. They won’t get to the gate before they sink.”

“There’s a private pier not far from here,” I said. “The Corvalis pier. There were plenty of boats there.”

“Some of these people are still alive!” one of my soldiers shouted. “Look!”

Kellan was a good swimmer; he and his men dove into the water to drag some of those farther out back to safety, while I and the other refugees scuttled around the edge, pulling out those who could swim on their own. Person after sodden person, we lugged and yanked, slipping on slick timbers and straining every muscle. For some of them, it was too late. The waterfront was choked with surprised, despondent spirits watching their bodies sink into the depths.

“We have to go,” Kellan said, hauling up one of the last survivors and climbing out. “The storm is getting worse. If we wait any longer, we won’t be getting out.”

“The boats I told you about are that way.” I pointed. “Get everyone there as fast as you can.”

“You’re staying?” He asked. “You’re still going to the tower?”

“I’m going for Zan,” I said. I would not leave the city again without him.

I expected Kellan to object, to plead for me to listen to reason and head for safety while I still could. He didn’t. Instead, he turned and began barking orders. “Move out! We’re heading west, to the ships at the Corvalis pier!” He moved to the head of the group, giving me one last nod from over his shoulder before leading them out of sight.

I ran alongside the waterfront road toward the castle. Above the rooftops, the Corvalis house was bowing beneath the assault of the wind as weblike fractures spread across the great, ostentatious windows. I could hear the snap and pop of the glass even over the roar of the storm. There was no chance Kellan would be able to get all those people onto a ship and out of port before it gave way.

I careened to the left, dragging out my knife as I sprinted for a better view, leaping over chunks of stone and brick as they tumbled from caving buildings. From atop the remains of a demolished sanctorium, I made a clumsy cut just as the first glass splinters of the Corvalis manor were giving way.