The Healing Wars: Book III: Darkfall (26 page)

I opened the door and Onderaan came inside. Tali looked up and started staring again. “Evening,” he said, taking a seat. “I hear you had some excitement today.”

“My life is nothing
but
excitement these days. Did you find anything in Zertanik’s book to help her?” I had so many other questions for him, but Tali came first. I could ask why the Baseeri resistance leader knew who he was—and who
we
were—later.

“Perhaps. He made extensive notes on the kragstun, but nothing about reversing the effects of it.”

“That doesn’t sound helpful,” Danello said.

“Oh, it was. I did find out the metal affects the nervous system and the brain. I don’t know how yet, but if something was done to the body, there must be a way to heal it. You did say she improved after healing Danello.”

I nodded. “She stopped trying to hurt people.”

“She may have inadvertently healed some of the damage.”

“Can she heal the rest?”

He shook his head. “I doubt it. I believe she’ll need someone trained in brain or nerve injuries to repair the rest of the damage.”

“One more reason to take back the League.” As if we needed another. I had no idea if Heal Master Ginkev was still there, but if anyone would know how to heal a brain, it would be him.

“Papa?” Tali said. She walked over, hand outstretched.

My breath caught. “No, Tali, that’s Onderaan, Papa’s brother.”

She ran her fingers across his forehead. He waited, still as stone, while she felt her way around his face. “Where’s Papa?”

“He died.”

“Soldiers come, soldiers stay, can’t you make them go away?” she sang quietly.

“That’s what we’re trying to do.”

She nodded and wandered off, her fingers trailing from Onderaan’s cheek. She found the window and curled up in front of it, resting her chin on the sill.

Danello slipped his arms around me from behind. “We’ll find a way to help her.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

Onderaan rose, sadness in his eyes. “I’ll keep researching.”

“Wait, before you go,” I said. “Balju, the Baseeri leader, asked about you. He knew who we were. Our family. Everyone there seemed to know.”

“We were close allies with Jeatar’s family. Father and Bespaar were good friends.”

“They plotted to overthrow the Duke together?” I assumed as much, but the bits of information I’d been told didn’t satisfy.

Onderaan nodded. “After Verraad took over, yes. Your grandfather helped Jeatar escape Sorille when it was burned. He smuggled him out in a grain cart, sacrificed his own life to do it. Peleven helped hide him in Geveg for a while; then we managed to get him to the farm. It was his great-aunt’s and needed a lot of repair, but it was forgotten by the family.”

“Is that why the Duke came after Geveg?” I asked, dreading the answer. But I’d heard the accusations in Baseer, in the Underground’s villa. That my family had brought the Duke down on Sorille. “Because Papa hid him here?”

Onderaan stepped closer, cupped my shoulders in his palms. “Nya, no. The Duke was already planning to invade Geveg and Verlatta. He had no idea Jeatar was here, or he’d have destroyed it too, not invaded it. He thought Jeatar was dead.”

“But not anymore,” Danello said. “He probably knows now, doesn’t he? He went after the farm.”

“He might not remember the farm. We don’t have any contacts close to him anymore, so we can’t know for sure.”

My guts said he knew, though maybe not for very long. Jeatar had stepped forward, admitted to a roomful of Baseeri who he was. Maybe it hadn’t been his choice, but if his friend had known he was alive, then others probably did, and saying that the legitimate heir was alive and willing to fight was a good way to gain support for your side.

“What if he does know?” asked Aylin.

“Then he’ll attack with everything he has.”

Jeatar finally returned and called a late meeting. Lamps brightened the map room above the blacksmith’s, the shadows of several dozen people flickering on the walls. Ellis stood on Jeatar’s right, his friend Riendin on the left as the Baseeri representative. Kione and the other newly appointed sergeants were also there, along with a few faces I didn’t know. Their scowls suggested they were part of Balju’s group. Our people scowled back.

“We have an alliance with the Baseeri resistance,” Jeatar began, though no one cheered. “We’ve contacted the farmers and ranchers, and they’re willing to fight with us as well. We took control of North Isle this morning and placed our people at the bridge guard posts. Ellis was able to convince Optel to help us, and we were able to infiltrate the alehouse. We’ve been gathering information on their troop size and movements, and we have a plan of attack.”

He picked two red stones up off the map. “The Baseeri are moving in through North and South Isles. South Isle is mostly abandoned, large portions of it in ruins.” He set the stones down at the bridges to League Circle. “They’ll be ready to move when we need them.”

He grabbed two more stones, violet ones, and placed them on the bridges to Upper Grand Isle. “The Gevegians will take Upper Grand. Kione will come in from here”—he pointed—“and Ellis from there.”

Ellis had the lower bridge, the same one we’d failed to take with Ipstan. According to the scouts, it was the harder of the bridges to cross and claim, with more troops in reserve to support attacks than on either Upper or Lower Grand Isle.

“The farmers and select troops from both sides will come in here and here.” He dropped yellow stones on the bridges to Lower Grand Isle.

“Timetable?” Ellis asked.

“We hit the Grand Isles at dawn. The Baseeri hit the bridges from North Isle to the League. Once we’ve secured the Grand Isles, then we make a full attack on League Circle. By then we’ll have control of every isle and bridge surrounding it.”

Danello tentatively raised a hand. Jeatar grinned. “Yes?”

“If we attack that many bridges at once, won’t they figure out something is up?”

“That’s a risk, but I have people at the alehouse telling the soldiers they heard another attack was imminent. Ellis will make sure some of her troops are seen massing at that bridge. I hope between those rumors and the Baseeri attacks on the bridges, it’ll draw out and split the blue-boys’ forces so we can ambush them from behind. If we get lucky, they’ll commit the bulk of their forces before they realize all the bridges are under attack.”

“The bait might not be big enough,” Riendin said. “They’re feeling cocky right now. They’d need a good reason to overcommit.”

Dread tied my guts in a knot. “Like me.”

He nodded. “Or someone posing as her. Put anyone her size in the pynvium armor and it can fool them long enough.”

“Won’t they also have the whole army trying to kill them?” Kione said, horrified.

“We could ask for a volunteer.”

One of the sergeants scoffed. “You expect us to charge in there and die as a distraction?”

“Gevegians not brave enough to make the sacrifice?” a Baseeri said.

The yelling started. Jeatar slammed both palms on the table. “The fight is out there, not in here.”

“It has to be me,” I said, wishing it could be anyone else.

Aylin grabbed my hand. “Nya, no.”

“You’d need a Healer to survive long enough to do any good, and we need every Healer
out
of battle, healing. Besides, I’ll be able to flash and thin the ranks, giving our side an even bigger advantage.”

Jeatar frowned, but he had to know I was right. “They’ll be waiting for you.”

“I know.”

“You’ll need protection.”

I smiled. I guess Vyand got to earn her pay after all. “I have that covered.”

Jeatar frowned. “You’ll need more than Danello.”

“I’ll have a whole team at my disposal.” One that I didn’t mind risking one bit.

The pynvium armor still didn’t fit. The chest plate hung on my shoulders, heavy and awkward, thumping my ribs when I moved. Even padding it with extra shirts didn’t help much, though it did keep it from digging into my flesh. The bracers sat against the tops of my hands at the wrists, but at least they stayed on. The greaves were okay.

“Here.” Jeatar lifted a helmet that looked suspiciously like a reforged pot and shoved it over my head. He pulled a visor down across the top half of my face, covering my eyes. A thin slit let me see, but not well.

“I’ll trip over my own feet in this thing.”

“It’ll protect your eyes.”

A lucky shot could end this fight fast. I had to draw it out, scare the blue-boys badly enough that they called in everyone they had to stop me.

We had to succeed. Capture the League and we stood a chance of beating the Duke. Of healing Tali. Fail here and he’d burn us all to ash.

Dozens of people surrounded me, hundreds more behind me. Our army numbered in the thousands now, but nowhere near the numbers the Duke commanded. All these people around me and I still felt alone. Danello was with his father, part of the farmers’ attack. He hadn’t been too happy about that, and my guts said he suspected I was keeping him out of danger again.

“Nya, are you sure about this?” Jeatar said. I wasn’t sure where he’d be fighting, but Riendin had been pretty vocal about him staying off the front lines. Some of the resistance frowned on that, but others reminded them about what had happened to Ipstan. They needed to keep the people who knew what they were doing back where they could do it. “We can still use a decoy.”

“I’m sure. I don’t want to risk anyone else.”

“Except me and my team,” Vyand said. She’d arrived with the giant and silent Stewwig and a dozen men and women who looked like they could take on the blue-boys all on their own. Jeatar wasn’t pleased when he found out about her, but he agreed that there was a certain justice in her trying to keep me alive. I’d rather he hadn’t used
trying
though.

“You’re well armored and well trained. You’ll be fine,” Jeatar said, barely looking her way. She and the others all wore chain mail, their faces already sweaty though the sun hadn’t risen yet.

“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I accepted your offer.”

“You can always change your mind.”

She sneaked a glanced at Jeatar. “No, I’m up for the challenge.”

Ellis motioned me over. They were ready to go.

“Good luck,” Jeatar said.

“You too.” I turned to Vyand and her team. “Try not to get too close, unless you want to get caught in the flash.”

“Hard to protect you that way.”

“Harder to do it if you’re unconscious.”

“Very true.”

I started across the bridge, walking, not running. I’d lose my balance if I ran. Vyand came in behind me. The blue-boys watched us come, their swords glinting in the sun that had finally peeked over the horizon. One girl against an army.

They’d go after my arms if they were smart. Hold me down, keep me from touching the pynvium chest plate. They wouldn’t be fast enough, but they could reach me before I reached them, forcing me to flash before the bulk of the soldiers were in range.

A squad tried. They left the protection of the bridge barricade and stalked toward me, swords out, eyes hard. One small flash would take them out, but I couldn’t do one small flash. It would trigger the rest, waste the pain in the armor on four when I needed to take out four hundred.

Steps away, coming closer. Chain on their bodies, smirks on their faces.

Almost in range.

Shadows flickered across the stone, like birds flying overhead. Several of our spears whizzed past and sank into the blue-boys’ chests. More whizzed past, hitting two others and sending the last few running for the far side of the bridge.

Shouts from the blue-boys, some in pain as the poison flowed through their bodies, others in fear when they realized what had happened.

I wasn’t the only thing to fear today.

The blue-boys fidgeted, as if eager to race out and tackle me, but the threat of the poisoned spears kept them back. Unsteady feet or not, it was time to hurry. Close the distance and flash them all. Scare them, force them to call for reinforcements and make the other bridges easier to capture.

I hugged myself, holding down the chest plate and keeping my hands against the pynvium.

“Now!”

I charged into the battle, shoulders braced, head tucked. Swords clanged off my armor but didn’t get through. Bodies slammed against me, knocking me off-balance, but hands steadied me. A body jumped between me and the blue-boys like a wall.

Stewwig.

He moved forward, sword swinging, silent as ever. But he cut through the soldiers like he was harvesting grain, clearing a path deeper into the blue-boys’ defense. I stayed in his wake, my hands twitching to flash the armor and get it over with.

Something heavy smacked against my helmet and my head spun. I grabbed Stewwig’s back and stopped my swaying, looked for the threat, but it was impossible to see much through the visor’s small slit. Soldiers in blue battled soldiers in brown leather. Blue-boys twitched on the ground, victims of the poison. Vyand’s team fought all around me, holding back the tide of pain.

They were good. They were
very
good.

I was deep enough. “Get back!”

“Do it now,” Vyand yelled.

“You’re too close.”

“Do it anyway!”

I pictured dandelions.

WHOOMP whoomp WHOOMP whoomp whoomp

Pain flashed against my skin. Soldiers screamed, Vyand and Stewwig fell. For several breaths the street quieted, a lull in the storm. Then horns blared and men shouted, but farther away. Calling for reinforcements.

It was what we wanted, but I trembled anyway.

I knelt and grabbed Vyand’s cheek, one of the few spots of exposed skin.
Drew.

“It worked,” I said after she snorted awake. “They called for help.”

“Good. Nya, move!”

She shoved me, but something hit me and dragged me down. Not a body—a net! I slammed into the street, crushing my fingers between stone and pynvium. Vyand grabbed the net, but a man in blue tackled her, knocking her away.

I tried to get up, but the net tangled in the armor, caught on the straps and buckles. The armor’s weight made it hard to move and the net even harder.