Rebecka Evertrue's Arc

Chapter 20 of 66

The torches were halfway down the switchbacks when Rebecka lowered her bow. Seventeen arrows against forty men. If she loosed from the mouth, they would fan out across the open slope and flank her before her quiver ran dry. She needed the road to become a throat. She turned to the fire. Aiyana stood there with her own quiver on her back, red fletchings above her shoulder, war paint dry on her cheeks. She had not moved since the horns started. She met Rebecka's eyes and waited. "They spread on open ground," Rebecka said. "I need them single file." "Then close the ground," Aiyana said. Rebecka looked past her, into the cave. The walls were seamed with old crystal, thick veins of it running up into the dark. Lark had told her the stone here held a subtle magic. Too quiet to be scried. Maybe not too quiet to be woken. "Lark," she said. "The crystals in the walls. Can you drop the outer lip?" Lark folded his wings tight and studied the mouth. "I can crack the shelf above the road. It will bring the overhang down. The gap left will be one man wide." "Do it." "It will cost me. I will not be much use after." "Do it now." Marcus was already moving. He pulled Rebecka back from the mouth and set his shoulder against the inner wall. Lark walked out to the lip. The torches on the ridge were close enough now that Rebecka could hear boots on scree. Lark laid both palms flat on the crystal shelf above the opening. He spoke one word. The veins in the stone lit gold, then white, then went out. The shelf groaned. Then it came down. Rock hammered the road in front of the cave. Dust rolled back into the chamber. Rebecka covered her face with her arm. When the roar stopped, she stepped forward. The slope in front of the mouth was gone. In its place was a spill of broken stone and a narrow slot between two standing crystals, chest high, wide enough for one man with his shoulders turned. Beyond it, the raider line had stopped. She heard shouting. The torches shifted, looking for another way down. There was no other way down. Not for a mile in either direction. Lark sat down hard against the wall. His wings dimmed to a dull glow. "That is all I have," he said. Rebecka nocked the first arrow and set her eye on the slot. The bow hummed against her palm. When the first raider came through, she would know. Behind her, Aiyana drew her own bow and stood at Rebecka's shoulder. "One at a time," Aiyana said. "That is a kind of mercy." The first shape moved into the slot. The bow warmed. Rebecka drew.