Siege of Stone

CHAPTER 40

Left inside her lifeless cell, Thora was tired of waiting. She refused to let her captors determine her fate anymore, and she would not be blocked from the great city, her city. Ildakar had discarded her, shoved her into this dark corner where no one bothered to think about her anymore. Thora had reached her breaking point.

Her own husband had spread his poison, brought the city down upon itself, and then dashed off, laughing at what he had done. For a long time, Thora had felt a sneering indifference toward him, and now when she thought of how he had kissed her and stroked her skin, she felt nauseated.

High Captain Avery had been a far superior lover, so attentive, appreciating her for her beauty, not just her power. In the cell now, thinking of the handsome captain, Thora touched her arms, her breasts, let her fingers explore her thighs and between her legs, but what should have been a tingling erotic sensation was little more than a numb touch. Her body was more stone than flesh and could no longer experience pleasure.

How she hated Maxim, hated the duma members who had cast this petrification spell on her, the conspirators who had pronounced her guilty because they didn’t understand what she had done for Ildakar. Everything for Ildakar!

She felt like the unloved stepchild of her mother city. The leaders dismissed her vision and ignored her powerful magic that had protected them for so many centuries. Her heart was broken for how her dreams had crumbled.

She returned to the doorway of her cell, where the rune-engraved stone blocks prevented her from using magic to escape. Thora ignited a light in her hand and set it afloat. The glowing ball hovered in the air, illuminating the stone walls. She studied the spiderwebbed fracture pattern where, in her fury at Lani’s taunting, she had lashed out and damaged the block with her bare fist.

It was just a start. She knew she could do more.

Thora had to get out of this cell, had to see her city. No, she needed to escape this place. Much to her dismay and disgust, Ildakar was no longer her home. She understood that full well. Nicci and Nathan, the duma, the ungrateful lower classes who had revolted against Ildakar and killed her son Amos—they were no longer her people. No, Ildakar was not her city anymore, no matter how much she had given to it.

She bunched her fist, drew it back, and slammed against the stone above the cracked block. Her knuckles hit so hard that the blow resonated up her arm, sending a shiver of pain up to her shoulder. In a way, she was reassured that she could feel it.

But she hadn’t managed to crack the next stone. She needed more.

Something about Lani’s provocation had triggered the extra power in her. Now, when she thought about her dulled sensations, how she longed to feel the thrill of pleasure in that most intimate of places which was now dead to her, she felt anger again. It grew brighter than the flame that hovered nearby.

Ildakar had taken so much from her! Lashing out, Thora struck another resounding blow against the stone, and this time she felt the block fracture. Before she let her anger fade, Thora smashed again and again, building it into a wild frenzy. She recalled how much she had enjoyed pleasure parties, thought of her lover Avery who had been murdered by Mirrormask’s rebels … murdered by her own husband!

After many repeated blows, Thora felt the damage to her hand, saw blood oozing from her chalky skin. If she’d been a normal human, Thora’s fists would have been smashed to a bloody pulp. She didn’t relent, but merely ignored the damage so she could keep going.

She continued battering the stone until the runes were finally destroyed. The blocks crumbled, the door sagged on its hinges, and Thora kicked hard against the heavy wooden barrier. Iron pins snapped from the hinges, and the crossbar clattered into the corridor. With a groan, the door broke free and crashed to the floor, leaving the way open for her.

Laughing, Thora stepped out of her cell. Once past the protective runes, she felt her gift swell within her. With an offhand gesture, she flicked a bleeding hand down the hall, igniting all of the torches with magic. Glancing down at her mangled fists, which had begun to scream with pain, she restored herself, sealed the worst of the injuries. She was the sovrena, intact once more, although she was unable to drive away the slow permanence of stone that still infused her body.

She was free, and now at last she could do what needed to be done. Ildakar had forsaken her, but General Utros and his vast army might appreciate Thora’s work, her magic. If she joined forces with him, she could help him overthrow this broken Ildakar and destroy the treacherous duma; then she could install herself as sovrena again and begin to fix things. Yes, that was how she could have her city back. That was how she could restore her dream, even if it meant she had to forge a terrible alliance with an ancient enemy.

She drove away the thought of what Utros and his armies would do to Ildakar once they surged through the gates, at least at first. It was for the best in the long run. She owed nothing to the city anymore, and she would rebuild it from scratch.

Thora knew her way around the dungeon levels. In her years as sovrena, she had sentenced many traitors to be killed in the combat arena, or she had simply used the petrification spell to turn them to stone. But some were sent to the dungeons, where she expected them to learn their lesson. Sometimes, she forgot about the captives long past the point where they had become contrite, then desperate, and then insane. After that, they rotted in the cells, leaving only moldering piles of bones for the rats to eat. Thora felt no sympathy for those victims, nor for her current jailers. She had her own priorities.

Freed, she strode along the passageways, searching for a way out into the open air. In a lit antechamber she startled two guards as they played a game with gambling sticks, bidding with stolen gold coins and jewelry. She recognized the two men who had treated her with such disrespect. As she strode into the antechamber, they lurched to their feet, astonished. “The sovrena’s escaped!”

She called a fist of air that slammed one of the guards against the far wall, and when he was pinned there, she pushed, harder, feeling the delicious thrill as his ribs cracked, and blood poured out of his mouth and nose. She kept pressing, crushing his heart flat, pushing the breastbone all the way against the spine.

Yelling, the second guard tried to run, and Thora smacked him with her magic just as he passed through the door, knocking his skull like a melon against the wall. She slowly pressed harder, flattening his skull until his brain oozed out like pinkish-gray slime down the walls.

Moving onward, Thora crashed through doorways, scattering more guards. Some turned to fight, but she dispensed with them quickly. Others fled. She had full command of her gift now, unhindered by protective runes. No one would stop her. When she reached the barred doorway of the dungeon tunnels beneath the bluff, she bent and twisted the metal barricade, then hurled it at two guards who raced forward to stop her.

When she finally broke out to the landscaped streets and orchards, Thora paused to inhale, smelling freedom, smelling Ildakar. It was very late at night, the streets nearly deserted just before dawn. All the noble mansions were well lit, but she saw no one moving about. Above her, the shattered ruins of the sacrificial pyramid stood like an insult, where Nicci had thwarted the sovrena’s plans to raise the shroud of eternity. So much had collapsed on that night.…

Thora needed to make changes, but she couldn’t do it while Ildakar stood against her. No, the city had to be purged. She had to reshape Ildakar so that it could achieve the glory it deserved. She would use General Utros, the mortal enemy of Ildakar, but Ildakar had become its own enemy. She had to save her city from itself, and to do that, in order to surrender to Utros, she needed to get past the wall. She was sure the enemy camp would accept her.

She paused, feeling a chill of second thoughts, dreading how the victorious enemy soldiers would pillage Ildakar, punish the people for resisting the siege, for turning them to stone. They would destroy much of the splendor—

No, she banished those ideas. In the long term, if it was the only way Thora could become sovrena again, the results would be worth the terrible price.

Now that she had escaped, she needed to be careful. Before she could get past the main gates, Nicci, Nathan, and the duma members would stand against her, so she moved quickly, before news of her escape spread.

Down in the lower levels of the city, she heard a loud commotion and she saw many torches and gathering crowds. Something was happening at the main wall, and beyond the city she could see large fires spreading from the grassy hills down into the siege encampment.

In the chaos, maybe she would have her chance. Thora made her way swiftly through the city streets, keeping hidden. She came upon a late-working gardener who pushed a small cart filled with night soil, tending the grapevine trellises for the vineyards long after dark. With a shovel he scooped his fertilizer into the plants, then looked up at her. “Good evening, my lady.” Then he recognized her, reacted with surprise. “Sovrena Thora! I thought you were—”

She snapped his neck with a gesture, and he collapsed into the steaming brown load in his cart. She should have felt a flicker of guilt, since he was one of her subjects, but she didn’t consider any of them her people anymore. They were just obstacles hindering her escape.

As she approached the towering wall, she heard shouts and a clamor of marching feet, whinnying horses, the jingle of armor. When she finally came within sight of the tall gates, she watched a battered and disorganized army returning from battle in the darkest hour before dawn, hundreds of fighters in mismatched uniforms, armor, and weapons. What had happened? Members of the city guard marched alongside arena slaves. She even saw several morazeth among them, which proved to her how much Ildakar had been corrupted. The fabric of her city was ruined!

She tried to put the pieces together from what she saw. Had Ildakar launched some kind of attack? Had this mismatched group of defenders attempted to challenge General Utros and his myriad soldiers? The returning fighters looked battered, sullen, and they didn’t cheer or whistle as they might with a well-earned victory. Rather, they seemed badly bruised.

Then she saw the hated Nicci riding a bay charger with Nathan in the saddle behind her, trotting alongside Damon, with Elsa behind him. Even Oron, head of the skinners’ guild, and Lady Olgya rode with the duma members, as if they belonged there. Lani strutted about, drunk with her own power. Returning fighters poured through the gate even as it crashed shut behind them.

Damon and Quentin extended their hands and worked a barrier spell, the locking magic that secured the towering doors. Thora realized she would never escape that way. All the gates would be likewise sealed. She would have to make it over the wall somehow and leave these people to their well-deserved fates.

Soon after the great gate sealed, she heard the monotonous pounding of Utros’s hardened soldiers against the immense walls. Thora herself, just one person, had smashed her way out of her cell, and with countless thousands of hard fists battering the wall, she knew it had to crumble before long, no matter how many reinforcement spells the wizards used.

But she intended to be on the other side with the victors when the city fell.

As the returning Ildakaran army milled around the gate, Nicci was still shouting commands from her horse, while other duma members called upon subcommanders for reports. Suddenly, a group of shouting guards ran through the main streets, heading toward the duma members. With a cold trickle of fear, Thora realized what they were saying. “The sovrena has escaped! She smashed her way out of the dungeon.”

Thora began to run, darting through back streets and dirty shadows, then becoming even bolder as she reached the steps leading to the watchtowers on the wall. After the nighttime attack the sentries would be on high alert, making it even more difficult to sneak past them. If she used her gift to unleash storm blows or a flare of fire, she could clear a way to the wall. If she climbed to the top, she could probably even jump and survive the landing with her stone-hardened body. That was her desperate chance. It would not be subtle, and her surprise would last for only a few moments, but it would be enough for her to get away.

Throwing aside all caution, Thora ran forward, gambling everything. As she burst into the well-lit open areas, several nearby soldiers saw her. “Here she is. Sovrena Thora is here!”

She knocked them aside with a blast of magic, but didn’t waste time killing them. Right now, she just needed them out of her way. Clearing a path with brute force and magic, she ran to the stone steps that climbed the wall. The resonant booms of relentless pounding outside echoed through the faint dawn.

On the wall above, sentries shouted as they saw her ascending toward them. Several shot arrows at her. Most missed, but two shafts struck her arm, scratched a gouge, then clattered off. A thin line of blood welled up on her skin, but she would heal it later, after she escaped.

The uproar increased as more soldiers rushed to capture her. Thora kept climbing, dismayed again that her own people had turned against her. Below, she saw powerful duma members ride to the base of the wall, including Nicci and Nathan. The sentries above were shouting and the soldiers below rallied, rushing up the stone stairs after her. Thora kept climbing.

Nicci dismounted at the base of the wall, her black dress flowing around her. She came after her, like a vengeful storm. “We will stop you, Thora.”

Thora put on a burst of speed. Almost there.

Reaching the top walkway, she blasted aside the sentries who confronted her, sending three of them over the wall to their deaths. Far below, lined up against the thick stones were hundreds of the enemy soldiers. If Thora could drop down there, she would present herself to them and demand to be taken to General Utros. She could help him bring down Ildakar and restore herself to power. She knew the city’s weaknesses.

But it was a long way down, and she quailed. Even with her stone skin, she wondered if she would survive the fall. And when she landed, would those angry soldiers listen to her, or would they just kill her outright because she was from Ildakar? She hesitated as she looked over the edge.

Nicci strode toward her across the top of the wall. Her once-long blond hair was ragged and short. Thora lashed out with a blow of wind, much like the one she had used to hurl Nicci out the high windows of the ruling tower during their previous duel.

But Nicci was obviously stronger now, and Adessa wasn’t here to help the sovrena fight. Nicci blocked the blast and launched rippling wizard’s fire—which no mere sorceress should have been able to use! Thora barely dodged in time, but the edge of the searing flames burned her skin, blackened her garments, reminding her that she could indeed be wounded. She peered over the sheer drop again, not sure she could survive the fall.

“You intend to kill yourself, Thora?” Nicci mocked, stepping closer. “If that’s your wish, we can make it happen.”

“I mean to save Ildakar!” Thora said. “You’ve all turned against me, and the only way to save my city is for Utros to win. When you are overthrown, we can rebuild Ildakar the way it should be!”

Nicci said, “So you mean to betray your city, just as Maxim did.”

“Never! I love Ildakar.” Appalled, she lashed out with a lightning bolt, and Nicci blocked it with lightning of her own.

Lani climbed up beside Nicci, followed by Nathan, Elsa, and Oron. “So you said in your cell, but now look at you, Thora. You try to justify your actions, but they aren’t for the good of Ildakar. You’re only saving yourself.”

“I am the sovrena! I am Ildakar. Whatever I do—”

Nicci interrupted. “Whatever you do is not for these people. More than a thousand of them went out tonight, and hundreds gave their lives to test General Utros. Would they have done that for you?” She lowered her voice, sounding harder and more threatening. “Would you yourself have made that sacrifice for Ildakar?”

“I would never do anything to harm my city,” Thora said.

Damon and Quentin reached the top of the wall, adding their powerful gift to the air as if the magic itself were alive and threatening.

“You truly meant to betray us to General Utros?” Elsa asked, shocked and saddened.

Thora’s thoughts spun as she fought to deny it. She looked at Elsa, then Lani. She hated her rival sorceresses, but was it really for the “good of Ildakar” if she sold herself to the enemy army? If she allied herself with the very force that wanted only to conquer the city?

Thora glanced beyond the walls at the hundreds of thousands of fighters gathered across the plain, who had once been petrified by the wizards of Ildakar. They had been turned to stone for centuries, taken away from their own time. If she were to help them break through Ildakar’s defenses, she knew they would exact their revenge. There would be fires, destruction, rape, and pillage, as conquering armies always did. How could she let that happen to her city? How could she? What was she doing?

Thora looked at all the besieging soldiers far below. She didn’t dare aid the enemy. As Nicci and the other duma members closed in, preparing to fight her with powerful combined magic, she realized it was her last chance to throw herself over the wall. But she couldn’t do it.

Instead, she turned to Nicci and the others facing her. “I would never do anything to harm Ildakar,” she insisted, then lowered her voice. “I won’t be like my husband.”

She let her hands fall to her sides and bowed in surrender. The wizards came forward, and she didn’t resist as they bound her.