After counting down in his head, Nedwin flung a globe toward the loading doors, pivoted, and hurled the other at the guards by the back door. Because the second globe traveled farther, they both exploded simultaneously. The blasts echoed loudly in the large, enclosed space. Nedwin noticed the undersized giants jerking and jumping with surprise.
The next two globes were for the little guys. They had kindly bedded down close to one another, so two spheres would go a long way toward ridding Trensicourt of giants. He threw the globes, watching as they curved downward. He covered his ears against the resounding explosions.
Obscured by smoke, Kerick led a group of fighting men through the back door. Gorson, the best man Nicholas had left behind, led more fighters through the damaged loading doors.
The dwarfs never stood a chance. They were not dressed for battle. Most had no weapons handy. Some tried to fight. Others scattered, trying to hide. Most appeared frightened and confused.
Nedwin held the fifth orantium sphere ready but had no occasion to use it. The uneven battle ended swiftly. Two of his allies had been injured, one killed. Kerick had been the most efficient, slaying at least ten foes. Nedwin wondered if any one man had ever cut down so many giants over such a brief period.
On their way out, the men splashed lantern oil around the room and started fires. That was the signal for Nedwin to return to the roof. His men would split up and disappear along prearranged routes. A few would stay near enough to watch for any emerging stragglers.
Nedwin would slip away quietly as well, using the rooftops as his roads. He needed to get away clean. He had other tasks to perform.
CHAPTER 25
DECISION
Beneath a bright sun Rachel walked along the top of the East Keep’s wall, gazing out at Felrook, the ultimate immovable object, firmly anchored atop the highest prominence in the valley. Even if the imposing castle had not enjoyed such an elevated foundation, its soaring walls and lofty towers would have dwarfed the lesser fortresses around Lake Fellion.
So far Maldor’s central stronghold had proven as unassailable as the loudest skeptics had feared. Since it rested on a massive pillar of solid stone in the midst of a deep lake, nobody had come close to finding a reasonable way to attack it.
And the armies from the east were closing in.
The military leaders were doing all they could to prepare. East Keep was in excellent shape. Ferrin had helped them capture the fortress virtually undamaged. The gates were intact, the catapults and ballistae still functioned, and the interior buildings had not been burned or bombarded.
Brin had kept men busy with heavy projects. At the other keeps, teams had walled off the smashed gates. Strategic trenches had been dug around the keeps and the town beside the ferry. Traps had been set along likely approaches the enemy might use. Men fletched arrows and collected stones to hurl from the walls.
After making sure the keeps were fully manned, Galloran had sent forces to upgrade some of the ruins on the north side of the valley that held high ground. He had arranged his forces to defend against the inevitable onslaught from the east and the possible simultaneous attack from the soldiers who currently held the passes.
Rachel could not help noticing that the preparations mostly centered on withstanding the oncoming armies, not on conquering Felrook. Not that she blamed anyone. She didn’t have any better ideas. They had sent scouts to probe for weaknesses. Those who made it back had nothing favorable to report.
The military leaders were preparing for the part of the campaign they could understand—how to go down fighting when the approaching armies arrived. None of them had a clue how to even bother Felrook. Every day that went by, it seemed less likely that a last-minute message from Jason could somehow turn things around.
Staring at the implacable bulk of the elevated stronghold, Rachel could not help but wallow in all her old doubts. She had striven to disregard her concerns about the prophecy. She had tried to ignore that their mission appeared increasingly impossible. She had attempted to borrow faith from others, to lean on their judgment in spite of all the evidence to the contrary. And here they were, without a workable strategy, waiting to die.
How long was she supposed to keep hoping? Until the enemy armies came into view? Until her friends had fallen? Until she was dead?
There was nothing else left to accomplish. There were no soldiers to muster, no roads to walk, no preliminary challenges to distract from the final goal. They had reached the end of the road, and victory remained as impossible as it had seemed from afar.
Rachel bowed her head. What if the rest of this depended on her? What if the point had been to get her to Felrook with an army ready to take advantage of the opening she would provide? She was the one person with an invitation into the stronghold. What if she accepted the offer, then found a way to create an opening for Galloran and the others?
Or was she just scared? Did she want to hide inside Felrook to avoid being killed by the oncoming armies? Did she want to call “time-out” and try to save herself and her friends before the war really started?
If she secured immunity for her friends, some might not take it. But some might, once the armies arrived and the cause was lost.
Rachel gazed at Felrook, trying to picture Maldor inside, trying to envision the lurkers. What good was she doing out here? At least if she went inside, she would be taking action. Out here she would sit still, use Edomic to protect her friends when the enemy forces arrived, and then die.
Or else Jason would suddenly reveal some hidden path to victory. Maybe some secret weakness to Felrook? Was that really possible? Was it realistic? And if it happened, might she not still be in a better position to take advantage of the weakness if she were already inside of Felrook?
Her Edomic had gotten strong. The fall of West Keep had offered proof. And she hadn’t even reached her limit. Not really. She hadn’t lost consciousness like with the zombies. But if she sat still, doing nothing, the help she might otherwise offer would be wasted.
Nobody would ever ask her to accept Maldor’s offer in order to spy on him and try to harm Felrook from the inside. Galloran was far too protective of her. If she meant to get involved in that way, she would have to take action on her own.
How could she get to Felrook? She would have to steal a boat or something. Nobody would let her leave East Keep unescorted. And what did she know about handling a boat? She would never get close to Felrook on her own. If Maldor really wanted her, he would have to come and get her.
Rachel slipped off the protective charm necklace. Was she really doing this? There were only a few days left. If she wanted time to accomplish anything after her arrival, it was now or never.