Chapter Twenty

Enchanted Fairies Tavern, Tristainia, 12th Day of Ansuz

"What is that?" Suleiman asked, eyes wide with shock.

Across the city, the bells were ringing in frantic cacophony. He could hear cries of fear from the streets outside, and from the tavern below.

And in the near-distance, he could see them. The tiny shapes of dragons and griffons, and the much larger shapes that could only be airships.

"I don't know," replied Tiffania, looking frightened. "Is it the Gallians?"

"Lei! Tiffa!"

The door burst open, and Saito dashed inside, followed by Louise.

"Saito, what's going on?" Tiffania asked. Louise pushed past her, and stared out of the window.

"It's them!" she cried, eyes wide with terror. "It's Joseph and the Gallian fleet!"

"You're sure?" Suleiman asked, his blood running cold.

"It must be! Who else could it be!?"

Suleiman looked again. There were dozens of ships, and many times that number of dragons and griffons. He couldn't make out their flags at so long a distance; but Louise was right, it was unlikely to be anyone else.

"Come on!" Saito grabbed Louise by the hand and pulled her out of the room. Suleiman and Tiffania followed on, hurrying along the corridor and down the stairs.

Down in the tavern, most of the customers had already fled. The Ondines were untying Guiche; except for Reynald, who was looking out of one of the windows. Scarron and Jessica were standing nearby, looking nervous, while the waitresses were tidying up the tavern; their faces masks of forced calm.

"What's happening up there!?" Malicorne asked.

"Ships and dragons!" replied Saito. "Dozens of ships! Big ones!"

"It's Gallia," said Gimli, ashen-faced. "They've come after all."

"He doesn't waste time, that one," declared Kirche, striding out of the door leading to the back room; dressed once again in her academy uniform. "Nor does he do things by halves."

"Then what do we do?" asked Baldwin.

"I say we get back to the palace!" Montmorency strode out after Kirche, also back in her uniform. "It's the safest place, and we can get orders from the Queen!"

"Yes, we must protect the Queen!" proclaimed Guiche, leaping onto the chair from which he had just been untied. "She may be in danger!"

"Don't be stupid! She has her guards and plenty of troops!" snapped Louise.

"But Montmorency's right, it's the safest place," Saito cut in. "We should protect the civilians while they head up there!"

"Yes…indeed!" declared Guiche, recovering quickly.

"It's not fair!" grumbled Malicorne. "And tonight was going so well!"

"Get your act together!" retorted Gimli, elbowing him in the gut. "Saito's right! We have a…!"

He paused, as a great black shadow flashed over the street outside.

"Dragon rider!" called Reynald from the window. "They're already here!"

"Then let's go!" Saito turned to Scarron and Jessica. "Mister Scarron, Jessica, come with us!"

"Non, mon ami," Scarron replied. He was shaking with fear. "This is my precious tavern, and these are my special fairies!"

"We'll come once we've locked the place up!" added Jessica. "You go on!"

Saito looked pained, but then nodded.

"All right. Come on Louise!"

"Not yet!" snapped Louise. "I have to change!"

There was an awkward pause.

"What!? There's no time!" protested Saito. "We need to go, now!"

"No! I can't go outside dressed like this!" shrieked Louise.

"Come on!" Saito grabbed Louise by the arm and dragged her, screaming struggling, out into the street. The others piled out behind them, drawing wands and looking around for danger. Suleiman and Tiffania did likewise. There was nothing else they could do.

The street outside was a scene of pandemonium. People hurried past, some alone, some in groups. Some had all they owned on their backs, while others dragged wailing children. Along the street, servants, householders, and shopkeepers were hastily closing shutters and locking doors.

They hurried on through the throng, buffeted by the crowds, until they reached an open square with a raised dais and a fountain in the centre. They clambered up around the fountain, as the crowds flowed around them, heading north towards the palace.

Suleiman looked around. The square was at a meeting of two streets and a boulevard, running from north to south through the city. He could see everything much more clearly, and he wished that he couldn't.

Above, the ships were still coming, plunging on through the clouds of smoke thrown up from the walls. Some were shot through; their hulls holed, their sails and rigging in tatters. Some were even on fire. But still they came on, through the smoky sky. Their underside gun ports were open, raining fire onto the helpless city below. All around them, dragons and griffons circled and dived, snarling and cawing. Below, smoke billowed up from burning buildings, and cries of terror and agony rent the air.

"Is…this hell?" he heard himself ask. He was sure that it was. The hell that was war, the hell he had fled his homeland to escape.

"It was like this in Albion," said Guiche, staring at the hellscape with blank eyes. "I saw things like this."

"But this is our city!" snapped Louise. She leapt up onto the fountain side, wand in hand. "We have to defend it! How can we call ourselves nobles if we don't?"

"But how do we fight this?" protested Gimli, pointing at the nightmare surrounding them.

"Well…we've got wands, haven't we!?" retorted Louise, holding up her wand for emphasis. "We can…!"

Her words became a shriek as a shadow passed over them. It was a dragon, coming around in an arc nearby. In the corner of his eye, Suleiman saw a flash. He looked, and saw a church that made up one corner of the square. It had a tall, ornately-decorated tower, and Suleiman could see a robed figure at the top, levelling a staff at the dragon. Was that the priest?

Lightning leapt from the staff, narrowly missing the dragon. The dragon's rider turned, and levelled his wand at the tower. Suleiman cried out as a fireball leapt from its tip, and slammed into the tower. The priest vanished, and the flames plunged down the tower. The church windows lit up, and blew out; showering the passing refugees in broken glass and molten metal. The crowd surged away, the people yelling and struggling. A horse pulling a cart let out a shriek and broke away, charging away up the street, scattering all its path. The cart fell apart, its riders falling onto the cobbles in front of the burning church.

And then a long, terrible groan. Suleiman stared in heart-clenching horror, as the tower began to lean forward. Smoking bricks fell away as it leant further and further, toppling down into the square. Suleiman heard a wail, and he saw a young girl lying there, clutching a stuffed rabbit, wailing piteously.

"Nooooo!" he heard himself cry, as he thrust out his hands; willing them to reach out and save her.

And there were hands there. The silver hands of his avatar, leaping forward and cupping together over the girl. The tower came down, disintegrating in a shower of stone and dust as it hit the silver hands and arms. The dust washed over him, making him choke, roaring in his ears like thunder.

And then it was gone. Suleiman drew back his avatar's hands, and the girl was still there, unharmed. She had stopped wailing, instead looking around in bewilderment, wondering what had saved her. An instant later, a man scooped her up and carried her away, hurrying after the others.

"Lei! You saved her!" cried Tiffania, rushing to his side. Suleiman turned to look at his companions, blinking away the dust that had covered his face. They were looking at him in amazement.

"I'm starting to like that power of yours, Lei!" declared Kirche with a grin.

Suleiman didn't know what to say. He didn't know what had just happened. His avatar had never come out unbidden, not like that. But he had just willed it, and it had come.

What did this mean?

"Look over there!" cried Montmorency. They all looked, and saw one of the enemy ships. It was coming in close, heading straight for the palace. Suleiman could see the figures swarming on its decks; warriors, no doubt, ready to swarm onto the palace's battlements.

He wanted to do something. He wanted to reach up and strike that ship with his avatar's hands. But it was too far away! There was nothing he could do!

Then the battlements erupted in smoke, followed by a roar of gunfire. The fusillade tore into the ship, ripping through sails and rigging, and plunging into the hull. The ship lurched, and one of the ventral wings came away, cables flapping and cracking. The ship heeled over onto its side with a groan, and then began to fall, plunging straight down towards the city.

"Explosion!" Louise shrieked. The deadly light leapt from her wand, and struck the ship. For an instant the light engulfed it, and then it was gone; the light erupting in a flash, and a terrible roar that tore at Suleiman's ears.

"And nicely done Louise!" Kirche cut in. "But that's not all!"

Suleiman could see what she meant. More and more ships were coming, to their left and right, and down the boulevard to the south. Some stayed in the air, laying fire on the city; while others were descending, dropping down as low as they could. Suleiman could see figures leaping from the gunwhales; mage-officers in their uniforms, knights in armour, and battle mages in their flapping robes, levitating down to the ground. Soldiers and sailors followed too; dropping down on ropes, or levitated by the mages.

"We're surrounded," breathed Reynald.

"We need to go!" insisted Simon de Kassel. "They'll come at us from three sides! We have to go, now!"

"We can't go!" shouted Louise. She was clearly tired after such a powerful blast, but her eyes were bright. "We're nobles! Who will protect these people if not us!?"

"Louise is right!" proclaimed Guiche, striding out in front of them. "We are her Majesty's own Ondine knights! We earned our name in Albion! When Tabitha was taken from us, we gave our all to save her! Now enemies are upon us, in our own fair homeland!"

He paused, flourishing his wand.

"The enemy is strong, and we are but few! But I would rather die here with all of you, fighting for our people, than live hundred years as a lonely coward!"

There was a long, very awkward pause.

"Guiche, please stop trying to be manly," said Montmorency, her cheeks reddening. "It greatly disturbs me."

"Well, I don't see anyone running," interjected Saito, looking from one to the other. "We have to hold this spot, so these people can get through."

"That's as good a plan as any," said Kirche. "Right everyone! Use that rubble to block the streets, but leave a gap in the middle until the enemy gets here!"

"Hey, who put you in charge?" demanded Baldwin. "Captain, your orders?"

All eyes fell on Guiche, who was still in his pose from before.

"Sorry, did you say something?" he asked, snapping out of it.

"Forget it, just block the streets!" ordered Saito, rolling his eyes. "And put out that fire!"

The Ondines got to work, using their magic to move the rubble into barricades, while Montmorency drew water from the fountain and sprayed it into the burning church, dousing the flames.

Suleiman turned to Tiffania.

"Miss Tiffania…"

"Lei…I don't want to fight," she said, smiling a sad smile. "But I don't want to run, either. If I can do anything to help here, then I want to stay."

Yes, she would. He knew that she would. That was the kind of person she was. That was the person she had become, since first he had met her. The journey into Gallia had changed them all, as journeys invariably did.

In her case, at least, it was for the better. And Suleiman hoped it had done the same for him.

"If you're staying, Miss Tiffania, then I'm staying too," he replied, and meant every word. He had a purpose now, a reason to fight, and to live. If he could protect Tiffania, then his life had not been in vain.

Tiffania nodded, and his heart felt stronger.

"They're coming! From the south!"

Suleiman looked down the south-facing boulevard. The flood of refugees had slowed to a trickle, the last stragglers hurrying through the gap in the middle of the crude barricade the Ondine Knights were raising.

And beyond, he could see them. The mages and knights, striding along the boulevard towards him. And behind them, a crude phalanx of soldiers and sailors. There had to be dozens of them, maybe even hundreds.

"Get ready!" yelled Saito. Baldwin and the de Kassel twins dashed up to the barricade, crouching behind it. As the last stragglers hurried through, Guiche flicked his wand, his Earth magic sending more rubble tumbling into the gap, blocking it up.

"Lei, stay here with Tiffa and Louise," Saito ordered. "We need you in reserve in case things get scary. Your avatar's strong, but it wears you out."

Suleiman nodded, and stepped back to the fountain.

And the enemy came on.

(X)

Henrietta stared over the battlements, her face a mask of calm.

It had happened. It was happening right now. The Gallians had come, and her city was burning.

"They're charging right at our guns!" gasped Cardinal Mazarin. "They must be insane!"

Henrietta was not inclined to disagree. There were dozens of Gallian ships in the air; some drifting over the city, some still approaching. All of the ones over the city had clearly been damaged, with hulls and sails shot through, and rigging hanging loose. Others were on fire. But even as the tower and wall guns blazed, they just kept coming.

"He must have run right over our fortresses," commented Armand de Gramont, the Lord Marshal. "An all-or-nothing attack."

"Madness…" gasped Centurion de la Valliere, gazing over the city, his eyes falling on the fires, and the rising columns of smoke. "What does he mean by this?"

"To burn the world."

All eyes fell on Tabitha, otherwise known as Charlotte d'Orleans. The blue-haired girl stared out at the battle, her eyes haunted. Next to her stood Maxwell Grey, looking at her with obvious worry.

"That is who he is," she said. "That is the Mad King."

Henrietta looked again over her nobles and attendants. She could see the fear in her eyes, the mounting despair. How were they supposed to defend their country, their homes, their lands, against a man like Joseph? How did one fight a mind so warped, so utterly lost, as that?

"He may burn all the world!" she declared. "But not this kingdom, not while I stand! Where is Admiral de Montmorency?"

"Word has already been sent," the cardinal replied. "If he is as ready as he claims, his ships will be here in a matter of hours."

"Hours!?" barked de Gramont. "By then this city will be in ruins!"

"There's nothing to be done," insisted Henrietta, before an argument could break out. "We can only defend this city."

"Your majesty, with your permission," Karin de la Valliere cut in. "I must join the Manticore Knights."

"Go with the Founder, Madame la Duchesse," replied Henrietta. "Let the maelstrom blow once again."

Karin doffed her hat and bowed like a man. For a few moments, her and Centurion's eyes met, and Henrietta wondered what was passing between them. They had never been the most lovey-dovey of couples, even when they were younger.

"Now, Lord Marshal." Henrietta turned her attention back to de Gramont, and Karin strode off. "The enemy will surely land in the outer city. You must deploy your troops."

"I cannot, my Queen," replied de Gramont, grim-faced. "The streets are blocked."

He pointed down over the battlements, and Henrietta looked. Down there, she could see the Saint Ciel boulevard, and Saint Ciel bridge over the river. The bridge was clogged with refugees, piling in from the surrounding streets. Across the bridge, they were packed in at the foot of the plateau, on which her palace stood.

Her stomach clenched. There were caverns under the plateau, expanded and improved over thousands of years. But they were now the city's magazine, packed with ammunition and food, enough to let the city withstand a siege. If there was any room down there, it was filling up fast. But why weren't they moving past the plateau? To the north?

Then she saw.

"Mayor!" she barked, rounding on the very pale and frightened-looking mayor. "Why are the streets down there blocked? The people can't get past!"

The mayor hurried to the battlement, and looked down. There he could see as she could, the streets leading into the wealthier neighbourhoods. The streets were blocked, and manned by the residents' hired watchmen; not doubt to protect their employers' homes from looting.

"It was not my doing!" he pleaded. "They must have done it themselves!"

"Lord Marshal!" snapped Henrietta, rounding on de Gramont. "Go down with the mayor and unblock those streets. Send the people through to the north, and move out your troops as soon as you are able. Count Mott, assist the Lord Marshal! Agnes, take your musketeers and go to Louise's assistance!"

"But your majesty…!" babbled the mayor. Then he saw the look on her face, and fell silent. No doubt he was worried what the city's wealthier residents would say at the riff-raff swarming through their streets. But there was nothing to be done for it.

"Chamberlain!" she ordered, as Agnes, de Gramont, and Mott strode off with the quivering mayor in tow. "Let as many people into the palace as is safe."

Chamberlain la Porte bowed, though she could tell he was dreading the thought of all those people swarming through the palace, getting mud on the floors and their sticky fingers over everything. She watched for a moment as he strode off, then turned her attention back to the battle.

With a crack, another Gallian ship exploded, burning wreckage plummeting to the ground. A chorus of roars and caws drew her attention to the right, where the Manitcore knights were taking off; joined by the Griffon and Dragon knights from their own aeries, and the Luftpanzer Ritter. All across the smoky sky, Gallian dragon knights banked and rolled, aiming themselves at the winged phalanx rising to challenge them.

Henrietta clenched her teeth. Her knights were in tight formation, with Karin clearly visible at the head. But they were still slow, wings beating hard to get them aloft. The Gallians circling around them were already aloft, and flying at speed.

There was nothing she could do. The Gallians had come on hard and fast, heedless of losses, and now they had the high ground. Her knights could either risk a takeoff, or spend the battle cowering on the ground. That, their pride as knights would never allow, though it might be their doom.

Her hands tightened on her sceptre, as she fixed her eyes on her knights; the Gallians circling ever faster, ever closer. If they were about to die, the least she could do was watch.

Faster. Closer.

And then she saw it. The Gallians were changing course, some of them turning tighter and tighter, others flapping their wings harder and harder, trying to centre on her knights. But they couldn't do it!

She saw Karin thrust her wand forward. A volley of spells leapt forth, plunging into the Gallians right in front of them. Most missed, but Henrietta saw other hit, dragons screaming as they were burned and blasted and buffeted, knights falling from their saddles and plunging to the ground.

And they were through, the wedge spreading and fanning out into the sky.

They had made it.

"My lords and ladies," she declared, turning to face her courtiers. "We have not lost yet!"

She could see the hope on their faces, in their eyes. She could only hope the rest of the city's defenders had seen it too.

"There!"

It was Tabitha, pointing over the battlements. Henrietta looked, following her line of sight down to Saint Ciel boulevard.

It was filling with soldiers. Dark phalanxes, moving slowly but surely down the boulevard towards Saint Ciel's fountain.

And Louise.

"I will go," said Tabitha. Before Henrietta could object, Tabitha stuck her fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. A warbling cry rang out, and the courtiers gasped in surprise as the dragon Sylphid emerged from behind the keep, sweeping around in a tight arc. Tabitha vaulted the battlement, and Henrietta cried out as she fell.

And landed on the blue dragon's back.

Henrietta watched, as Sylphid banked right, winging her way towards St Ciel's fountain; Tabitha a tiny shape on her back, cape billowing in the wind.

And behind the battlement from which she had leapt stood Maxwell Grey, looking after her with longing, lonely eyes.

Henrietta stepped beside him, and gently squeezed his shoulder.

(X)

Agnes de Milan strode along the corridor, her boots ringing on the floor.

There wasn't much time. Count Mott and the Lord Marshal were getting their own troops organised, and the mayor was giving himself a hernia worrying about what the upper city's residents would say to a horde of desperate refugees swarming through their neighbourhood. She had to get to the Musketeers' barracks, and get them ready to move out. Time was of the essence.

Ahead of her was a familiar cross-corridor, leading to the barracks. She reached it, and rounded the corner…

…and froze.

"Mademoiselle…"

Him. Standing right there in front of her, looking slightly flustered, as he always did. That same blue robe, that same staff, that same bald head, those same glasses.

Those same old, tired, sad eyes.

"Mademoiselle…" said Jean Colbert again, awkwardly. "I…"

Why did he have to be alive? Why did she have to go through all this again? Would she never be free of him?

Of the hate that had kept her alive for more than half her life?

"The Gallian air fleet is attacking," she said sternly. "I go to join the battle. You should stay here, where it's safe."

She knew she should just walk on past him, get on with her mission, forget he was even there. But something would not let her. Something stayed her feet, and kept her there, staring at him.

"I can't do that," replied Colbert. "I can't find Miss Valliere or her companions anywhere."

"They're down in the city," she replied. "They are fighting, and I must go to them."

There was that look again. The same look he had worn that night at the academy, the night when Menvil and his mercenaries had taken the female students hostage, and threatened to burn them alive. The look of a man whose past had come back to haunt him.

"Then I will go with you," he said, mastering himself.

"I thought you didn't care for fighting," retorted Agnes.

"You know me better than that, mademoiselle," Colbert went on, suddenly stern. "And even if they were not my students, I owe them too much to forsake them."

"Your life, you mean?"

She couldn't stop herself. She knew she was wasting time, and asking for trouble just by talking to him. But she had to know.

Colbert sighed, and deflated. He looked old and sad, like his eyes.

"Miss Tabitha used a sleeping spell to place me in a trance," he said. "A deep enough trance to fool a cursory examination. This bought her time to explain her intentions to the headmaster, and to Miss Zerbst. They arranged my escape, and Miss Zerbst brought me to her homeland, where her father set me to building the Ostland. I suppose there are worse ways to be reborn."

Agnes' fists clenched. She had been tricked after all. Tricked by the rightful Queen of Gallia. It was like something out of a comic opera.

"Mademoiselle…" Colbert sighed. "If you want justice, let us take this matter before the Queen, later. But my students are in danger, and there is nothing I can do but go to them."

Agnes stared at him. There was no deception in those eyes, no insincerity. He was what he was, what he had always been. The man who had burned her hometown to the ground, and then saved her life.

The man who had been tricked into burning down her home. The man who had innocently obeyed the orders of a Royal minister, and destroyed everyone she had ever known. The man who had realised his mistake only too late, and carried the shame of it ever since.

The man she hated…because hatred had kept her alive for more than half her life.

The man she hated…but could not bring herself to kill.

"Professor…"

"Mademoiselle?"

"You asked me once. What would I do when my revenge was complete? You did not much like my answer."

"I did not, mademoiselle."

Indeed he had not. Carrying on like the worried teacher. Asking if there was someone she liked, going on about having her whole life ahead of her. What did he know?

What had she known?

"Well, here is another answer," she said, looking him in the eye. "I will serve her Majesty. Until she releases me, or death takes me, or the world ends. She is worth serving. And she is worth dying for."

Colbert sighed again. And then, to her surprise, he smiled.

"That is a life worth living, mademoiselle."

Agnes regarded him a moment longer.

"Come then. We are short on time."

(X)

Suleiman gritted his teeth.

His hand ached, as it gripped the cutlass he had snatched up from the ground. The cuts on his arms and chest stung, setting his teeth on edge. His muscles ached, from a battle that felt like it had lasted forever.

But it wasn't over.

Another wave was clambering over the barricade, or what was left of it. Soldiers in green, and sailors in blue, accompanied every now and again by mage-officers with glowing wand-swords. Suleiman could see men with muskets creeping into the ruined buildings nearby, ready to give covering fire.

"Watch the ruins!" yelled Kirche, thrusting out her wand and sending a fireball into one of the buildings. Flames gushed from the windows and the broken walls, and Suleiman could hear men screaming, and the crackle of musket cartridges cooking off.

But he had no time to dwell on the horror. A man was coming at him, a scar-faced sailor clad in blue rags, charging with cutlass brandished high. He screamed at the top of his lungs, his eyes wide, staring, devoid of thought.

Suleiman brought up his own cutlass. His arm shuddered as the blades connected, the impact ringing in his ears. The man roared like a wild beast, and swung his cutlass again and again. Suleiman fell back before the onslaught, struggling to block the man's blows.

He looked into the man's eyes, trying to find some spark of reason, of humanity. But there was nothing there. There was only madness, and blind terror. Like his fellows, he had been herded into the jaws of hell, and his mind was gone.

He had no choice.

Suleiman darted right, so fast that the sailor toppled forward. Suleiman brought up his knee into the man's stomach, then grasped his hands around the hilt of his cutlass and slammed it down on the sailor's head. The man's scream became a grunt, and he toppled over, slumping onto the debris-strewn street.

Suleiman stared down at him. He didn't want to kill. He wasn't used to killing. He had never needed to before. But now…

"Look out!"

Suleiman spun round. More and more enemies were scrambling over and around the half-ruined barricade. One of them was a green-clad soldier, charging at him with a spear. He began to move, to raise his cutlass, but it was already too late! The spear was coming at him, aimed for his stomach.

A white light flashed past his ear, and hit the soldier head on. The soldier faltered, and Suleiman darted aside, as the man staggered to a halt.

"Whuh?" He looked around, bewildered. "Where am I?"

Suleiman looked back. He saw Tiffania standing there, wand outstretched, looking sheepish.

"Be quiet and go to sleep!" shouted Montmorency, aiming her wand at the stricken soldier. A spell leapt out and struck the man, toppling him to the ground.

"I'm sorry!" whimpered Tiffania. "It's the only spell I know!"

"It's fine!" insisted Montmorency. "Just stay focussed and…!"

What remained of the barricade erupted in a shower of dust and stone chips. A monstrous shape, vaguely human, but with a featureless dome instead of a head, burst through the gap. The dust faded, revealing an enormous mud golem.

"Someone stop that thing!" yelled Kirche, from behind a slab of masonry; musket balls bouncing off it.

"I'm busy!" shouted Guiche. He was trying to manage a dozen of his Valkyrie golems, all of them struggling to fight off the attackers.

A flurry of Wind Bolts thudded into the golem's muddy form. Suleiman looked, and saw Baldwin and the De Kassel twins with their wands outstretched, the tips glowing as they frantically mouthed more spells. Suleiman cried out as a pair of soldiers dashed through the gap behind the golem and ran straight towards them, swords raised.

"Look out!" Saito darted through the trio and engaged the pair, Derflinger flashing as he blocked and parried, all around him, countless soldiers had been defeated, sent through windows and walls as he was in the thrall of battle.

"Get back here, idiot!" snapped Montmorency. Suleiman looked round again, and saw her pulling a bewildered Tiffania behind the fountain, or what was left of it. Reynald and Gimli were squatting behind it, launching spells at the nearby buildings, and ducking as Gallian musketeers fired back. Louise was there too, glaring over the cracked and blasted marble.

Suleiman hurried to join them, crouching down beside Tiffania. In front of him, he could see more and more soldiers and sailors scrambling over the ruined barricade, or through the gap made by the golem. The golem was turning left, wading towards Baldwin and the de Kassel twins, shrugging off their spells. Nearby, Saito had downed his attackers, but more and more were coming. To the right, Malicorne was trying to fight off two spear-wielding soldiers, while Kirche was launching more fireballs at musketeer-infested buildings.

He shivered. They were being overwhelmed.

"There's too many of them!" he cried, turning to Louise, Tiffania, and Montmorency.

"Yes, we noticed!" retorted Louise peevishly. She glowered at him with angry eyes, but Suleiman could see the weary heaving of her shoulders, and the black bags under her eyes. She had blasted three falling ships to save the city, and was drained almost to her limit.

"I'm sorry," whimpered Tiffania again. She looked utterly miserable. "I can't do anything. I only know the one spell."

"Don't worry about it!" snapped Louise. "Help will come soon! We have to destroy that wretched thing!"

Suleiman looked back along the boulevard, straining his eyes for some sign of help on the way. But all he could see was smoke and rubble, and the distant shapes of fleeing people. Up in the sky, dragons, griffons, and manticores circled and dived, spells flashing between them, heedless of the battle below.

They were on their own.

"Hold still," Montmorency ordered, stepping around him. She aimed her wand at the cuts on his arms, and Suleiman felt his skin itch as her magic repaired it.

"Louise, can you stop that golem?" he asked.

"Probably," Louise replied. "But that'll do no good. The Earth mage who summoned it will just renew it."

"Will he be far?" Suleiman looked over the fountain again. The golem was smashing at the barricade with its fat arms, ignoring the fusillade of spells blasting at its back.

"Not far," Montmorency cut in. "He'll have to stay close."

"Lei, what about your power, your avatar?" Louise suddenly asked. "If we attack together, we can stop them."

"No!" pleaded Tiffania. "He's used it enough already! He's tired!"

"You mean the invisible thing?" Kirche called out. "If he can, he should! It's that or we die!"

"We don't have a choice!" insisted Louise. "Lei, you grab that thing and hold it still. I'll blast the mage when he appears!"

Suleiman looked from the hard-eyed, weary Louise, to the worried-looking Tiffania. His heart ached, but he knew what he had to do.

"Please don't worry, Miss Tiffania," he said. "I must do this."

"Well do it quickly!" cut in Montmorency. "I think that's him now!"

A green-robed battle mage was stalking through the gap in the barricade. With him were two mage-officers, clad in green coats and wearing black hats, wand-swords at the ready.

Suleiman took a deep breath, and stood up. His avatar arose, his weary body protesting at the effort, the silver arms reaching out. Suleiman reached, and clamped two hands around the golem. The golem stiffened, and then struggled, forcing itself against constraints it could not see. The battle mage saw what was happened, and aimed his staff at the golem, the tip glowing as he shouted orders. Suleiman felt his whole body ache, as the golem strained against his power.

One of the mage-officers saw him, and shouted a warning; just as Louise stood up, wand glowing bright.

"Explosion!"

At that very moment, the mage-officer threw up his wand, a lightning bolt flashing from the tip. Even as Louise screamed out her spell, the blast hit the fountain, blowing it apart. Suleiman was flung away, debris clattering down all around him. As he fell, he heard another blast; the familiar shriek-crack of Louise's signature spell; and a wind of dust came billowing over him.

He shook his head, and forced himself to rise. He looked around, and his heart leapt as he saw the golem slumped against what remained of the left barricade. There was no sign of the battle-mage. But now he needed to….

A roar filled his ears. Suleiman snapped his head round, and saw one of the mage-officers hurling himself at him, glowing wand-sword brandished high. Suleiman cried out, and thrust up his cutlass, barely catching the blow. His whole body shook, and flecks of metal flew from the already notched blade. The mage-officer hissed, and dragged his blade aside with a snarled spell. The wind blast hit Suleiman full in the chest and flung him back against the fountain's plinth. His back erupted in pain, his head ringing from the impact.

The mage-officer advanced on him, eyes bright with hate. Behind him, more and more soldiers were clambering over the short, blasted berm that had once been the barricade. Suleiman gritted his teeth, and forced himself to sit up, willing his legs to move, to lift him up. He could not remember when he last felt such pain. The mage-officer aimed his wand, opening his mouth to cast.

Then his snarled spell became a wet cough. Suleiman stared, stunned, as an arrow materialised in the mage-officer's throat. The officer staggered back, clutching his impaled throat, blood gushing between his fingers. He thrust out his wand-sword, forcing his lips into the words of a spell, but the weapon would not obey him.

An explosion flashed in the corner of Suleiman's eye. He looked, and gaped as he saw what was coming. It was a carriage, charging at full-tilt out of the side street to the left, with two figures clinging on for dear life. One wheel hit a boulder, and the carriage flipped over, the horses breaking free and charging straight through the oncoming soldiers. The two figures leapt clear, one hitting the ground and rolling, the other rising into the air in a glow of magic.

Suleiman stared up in amazement, as the figure levitated through the air, and descended in front of the fountain. It was a young woman, a few years older than himself, wearing a white blouse and long blue skirt, long blonde hair billowing in the wind. In her hand was a glowing wand.

"Sister Eleanore!" Suleiman looked, and saw Louise behind the plinth, staring in mingled terror and awe as the young woman landed.

"Well…" she said, looking over the burned and cratered street, and the Gallian soldiers, with the eyes of an unimpressed schoolteacher. "What a mess we have here."

Her wand snapped up, her lips flickering. The gust of air blasted down the street, throwing the Gallians off their feet. Her wand snapped left, sending a gout of flame into one of the buildings. The building shuddered, burning bodies flying from the windows. A mage-officer snapped up his wand-sword, but Eleanore brought round her wand in a single smooth movement, a crescent of rock erupting from the cratered street to block his fireball.

But more soldiers were coming, charging towards the fountain; brandishing swords and levelling pistols. The Ondine Knights leapt to oppose them, firing off wind bolts and fireballs. Suleiman pulled himself to his feet, lifting his cutlass in an aching hand, as the enemy reached the plinth.

Then the one in front staggered, as something flashed across his throat; tearing it open in a fountain of blood. As he fell, the one behind him fell back also, a gleaming metal ring protruding from his chest.

A chakram.

Suleiman stared. A chakram? In Tristain?

A man leapt over the plinth, and ran at the advancing soldiers. The soldiers were already turning to face, brandishing their weapons. But the man was too fast, leaping at the nearest soldier and slashing across his chest. The soldier fell, but the man was already moving, his gleaming scimitar taking another soldier in the throat.

Suleiman's heart froze, as he saw the man more clearly. That narrow, bronze-skinned face. That long black hair, tied with a simple ring. His clothes, the blue tunic, baggy white trousers and tall boots, so much like his own.

"Majid?" he whispered. He could not believe it. He dared not believe it.

A volley of spells thundered into the oncoming soldiers; knocking them down and throwing them off their feet. Those remaining slowed, faltered, and then began to run.

"Stand!" screamed a mage-officer, lashing out with lightning bolts. "Fight, you cowards! Stand and ughhh!"

A very large lump of ice and snow crashed down on his head, knocking him prone. Overhead, Sylphid swooped low and came about, Tabitha still sitting on her back. The Ondines whooped and cheered, and Tabitha raised her wand in salute.

But Suleiman did not cheer. He could only scream.

"Majid!"

The man paused, and turned to face him. The mask of violence vanished as if it had never been, the eyes widening as they saw him, and knew him.

"Young master?"

It was Majid. His father's loyal Silahtar, his faithful protector, his wise mentor, and for so many years his only friend. Majid, who had accompanied him on their flight from Arysia. Majid who had guarded him while he slept, and shielded him from all dangers.

Majid, whom he had left behind, to begin this wondrous adventure.

"Majid!"

Tears of joy and shame ran down his face, as he all but leapt over the rubble. Majid caught him, wrapping his strong arms around him, in a way he had not done for many years.

"Young master!" Majid sobbed, hugging him back. "Young master! I thought I'd lost you!"

"Majid, I'm sorry!" Suleiman wailed. "I left you behind! I'm sorry!"

And he was sorry. More sorry than he had ever been. More sorry even than for any time he had ever failed. Even when he had failed his father, and himself.

"Uh…"

The sound drew Suleiman back. He looked up, and saw the others gathered around, staring at them in mild astonishment. Majid saw them too, and let out a yelp as he broke away, trying to compose himself. Suleiman felt his cheeks redden, in spite of everything.

"Lei?" asked Saito awkwardly. His clothes were torn and filthy, and he had taken many cuts and burns. "Is this Majid?"

"Oh, yes!" Suleiman declared, mastering himself. "Everyone, this is my companion Majid, whom I told you about. Majid, these are my friends."

He glanced at Majid, and then faltered; as he saw the dark suspicion in his old friend's eyes. They were aimed at his chest, and the silver runes that marked them.

Suleiman bit his lip. He wasn't ready for this.

"Friends?" Majid said, glowering, turning back towards the academy students. "Which one of your friends is responsible for this? Which one of you tore my young master from me, and bound him by magic?"

The air turned very cold.

"That would be me," said Tiffania, stepping around the others to stand in front. "I am responsible."

Suleiman could tell she was afraid, but there was something else in her eyes too, something stronger than fear or shame.

"So…" Majid growled, glaring at her. "I have you to thank for all this, do I?" His hand went to his sheathed scimitar, and Suleiman's eyes widened.

"Hey!" Saito glowered, and readied Derflinger. "What're you trying to do!?"

"Majid, please!" pleaded Suleiman, stepping between them. "Miss Tiffania is good and kind! She didn't intend this to happen!"

"Oh didn't she?" growled Majid. Suleiman could not remember seeing him so angry. "You make a slave of my young master with your vile magic, and you didn't intend it?"

"How dare you!?" erupted Louise. "How dare you insult our Founder Brimir's magic!?"

"I dare anything!" roared Majid, rounding on her. "I am…!"

"Monsieur!"

Eleanore materialized behind him, and whapped him on the back of the head, so hard that he staggered.

"Monsieur, I wonder if you have heard a word I said during our journey?" Eleanore asked, in the tone of an exasperated schoolteacher dealing with a particularly slow and stupid pupil. "Did I not explain the ancient Void magic of our Founder Brimir? Was it too much for your simple mind to comprehend?"

"Eleanor…!" spluttered Majid, his deadly aura gone. "She-"

"I shall say so again, and simply," Eleanore went on, interrupting him. "This girl called upon the Founder to summon her familiar, and the Founder answered her prayer? Do we understand this simple concept?" She turned towards Suleiman. "You are Suleiman yes? Majid's ward?"

"I am." Lei replied, looking at her hard eyes.

"Did you wander to the summoning portal on your own accord?"

"I…" Suleiman took a deep breath. "I…was inebriated at the time, yes."

He nodded awkwardly. He had been utterly plastered that night, but he could never forget it. Not the portal, nor falling into Tiffania's…

Yeah…

"And he was drunk." Majid growled, glaring back at Tiffania, who flinched. "His judgement was compromised!"

"We will discuss this later!" snapped Eleanore, making him flinch. "In the meantime, there is something far more important!" Eleanore strode up to Louise. "Louise, what is that you are wearing?"

Louise let out a yelp, and clamped her arms over her chest; trying in vain to hide the Enchanted Fairies waitress uniform. A ripple of fear ran through the group.

"Uh…Eleanore…" whimpered Louise. She looked almost as terrified as the day her mother had shown up.

"What have you been doing, Louise!?" bellowed Eleanore, grabbing Louise by the cheek and squeezing it hard. "Why are you wearing that ridiculous costume!?"

"Shishter Eleanorrrrrrrrrrre!" wailed Louise, her voice distorted by the pinching.

"Why are you dressed as an Enchanted Fairies waitress!?" Eleanore went on, glaring down at her sister. "What have you been up to, you little brat!?"

"Hey, wait just a minute!" interjected Saito. "How d'you know about the Enchanted Fairies?"

Eleanore let go of Louise, so suddenly that she fell over, and rounded on Saito.

"Monsieur d'Hiraga!" she intoned, glaring down at him. "You call yourself my sister's protector, yet I find her dressed in this shameful costume! What excuse can you offer!?"

Suleiman glanced at Majid. He stood there, shoulders hunched, glaring with angry eyes on Tiffania. The blonde elf looked down at the ground, eyes full of shame.

"That will do, Eleanore!"

All looked up as a great black and gold manticore swooped down and landed nearby. Suleiman immediately recognized Karin de la Valliere, as did Louise.

"Lady mother!" Eleanore called up. "How goes the battle!?"

"Well, from the looks of it!" Karin called back. "Their fleet is all but shattered, and their troops are scattered around the city! Agnes de Milan is on her way here with reinforcements!"

She looked down at Saito.

"It seems my future son-in-law did well holding this part of the city!" she declared, a small smile on her face.

"Son-in-law?!" Eleanore squawked, her glasses almost falling off. "Mother!? What does this mean!?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," replied Karin, still smiling. "Saito is proving a fine husband or Louise."

"Husband!?" Eleanore looked at Saito, with a look like she was being forced to kiss a pig. Louise let out a long, world-weary sigh.

Meanwhile, the Ondine knights broke out in smiles and sighs of relief. Kirche let out a huzzah, and Baldwin hugged Simon de Kassel. Suleiman looked around at them all, seeing their relief, their joy their pride. He felt so glad to be there, to be among them, to be alive.

Then he looked out over the city. His rising joy faded in an instant, as he saw the billowing clouds of smoke, and the distant flickering flames. All around, he could hear the distant thunder of cannon fire, and the shriek of dragons.

The battle might be over. Tristain might well have won. But the city of Tristainia had been destroyed.

He looked down, too tired to watch any more. He was tired of the fighting, tired of the destruction, of the pointless cruelty of it all. He just wanted to sleep, and to do something peaceful and fun, with Miss Tiffania, and everyone.

And Majid.

His eyes fell on a puddle of water; a crater in which the ruined fountain's water had gathered. He saw his face in it; and he barely recognised it. Had he ever looked so tired, so drained, so sad?

Then the water rippled.

Suleiman stared at it, surprised out of his dark reverie. What could make it ripple like that? Was it about to rain?

Then it rippled again. Suleiman held out his hand, waving it around, but he couldn't feel any raindrops. Where was it coming from?

Then another ripple. And another. And another.

"Young master?" It was Majid, stepping up beside him. "What's the matter?"

"This puddle…" Suleiman looked around. He saw another puddle, and it too was rippling. And another puddle, and another.

"Hey, what's up?" asked a beaming Saito, stepping over to join them.

"The puddles," Suleiman said, pointing at them. "They're all rippling, but it isn't raining."

"Reallly?" Saito glanced at the nearest puddle, and faltered as he saw it ripple. "That's weird."

"Wait…" Tiffania cut in, cupping her hand to one of her long ears. "Listen."

The plaza fell silent, as they all listened. Suleiman pulled away his headband, and strained his ears, listening.

"Wow…like Jurassic Park…" murmured Saito.

"Jurassic Park?" Eleanore asked with a raised eyebrow.

Then he heard it. A rumble, like a roll of thunder, hidden until a moment ago by the distant gunfire. He looked down, and as the rumble came again, he saw the puddle ripple.

Again. And again. And again.

"There!" cried Montmorency, pointing down the boulevard, her pale face ashen. Suleiman looked, and his stomach twisted as he saw.

Something was emerging from the smoke. An enormous shape, ten times the height of a man or thereabouts. It looked like a man, but with a round dome in place of a head. It was clad in armour, that groaned and clunked as it moved. It strode slowly along the street, advancing a street-length with every stride, coming ever closer.

"Zaku?" babbled Saito.

"It's a golem!" gasped Guiche. "I've never seen one that big! Even my brother can't make them that big!"

A fireball flashed past them, and slammed into the golem. Suleiman looked back, and saw Karin aiming her wand at the oncoming golem, her eyes fixed on it. She launched another fireball, and another, the flames washing over the gleaming armour.

"Mother!" cried Louise, staring in horror. The others were afraid too, staring at the monstrosity with fearful eyes. A monstrosity even Karin de la Valliere could not damage. Suleiman stared too. He could feel the cold chains again, closing around his heart.

Then he saw, as another of Karin's fireballs struck. The spell flashed as it struck the golem, the gleam spreading out over the armour.

No, not the armour. The gleam didn't follow the contours of the armour. Rather it washed over like the ripples on the puddles. Not on the armour, but in front of it.

"Everyone!" he cried, as he remembered. "There's a spell on it! Bidashal's Counter!"

Yes. That was it, he was sure. He had seen that same spell, when he had fought Bidashal. He must have cast it upon this golem, back when he was in Joseph's service.

Or was it more recent? Had he returned to his master?

"What the hell is a Bidalshal?!" Gimli called out.

"The Elf Lei fought in Alhambra, remember!" Kirche barked. She levelled her wand, and launched a fireball of her own; to no effect. "

Spirit magic?!" groaned Malicorne. "Come onnnnn!"

"I'll stop it!" snapped Louise, stepping forward, wand at the ready.

"Charlotte!"

All froze, as a booming voice thundered over the city.

"Charlotte! Oh Charlotte!"

Then Suleiman had something else to stare at, as another shape emerged from the smoke. This time it was an airship, but not like anything Suleiman had seen. It was enormous, half or twice as long again as the others he had seen. It's flanks were painted gold and blue, and banners and streamers fluttered from its masts.

"What is it?" gasped Saito.

"Couronne" breathed Karin. "The Gallian Royal flagship."

"Charlotte!" boomed the magic-amplified voice from the deck. "It is I, your beloved uncle!"

Suleiman strained his eyes, and saw the shape near the prow of the ship. It was a tall, broad-shouldered man, clad in white, with blue hair and a short blue beard.

Joseph. The mad king.

Sylphid swooped overhead, flapping hard to gain height. Suleiman looked up at the dragon as it passed, and saw Tabitha staring hard at the ship, at the figure near the prow.

He had never seen her eyes so hard.

"You left this behind, my beloved niece!" Joseph held up something long and thin. Suleiman's heart clenched, as he recognized her staff; the one she had carried at the academy before she was kidnapped.

Joseph drew back his arm, and threw the staff into the air. Suleiman watched as it swung end-over-end through the air. As it flew, Joseph pulled out a wand, and aimed.

"Explosion!"

A flash of light, and the staff was gone, blasted into nothing.

"Wait!" Saito cried. "Tabitha!"

Sylphid shrieked as she banked hard towards the Couronne. Tabitha thrust out her wand, and a flurry of icicles flew at Joseph, a rictus of rage on her expression. Joseph laughed, and thrust out his wand; and the same white flash blew the icicles apart. Sylphid flew on over the deck, and Suleiman cried out as gargoyles leapt up, grabbing the blue dragon and holding on. Sylphid shrieked as she flapped and struggled, but the weight was too much, and she crashed down onto the deck.

"Tabitha!" yelled Saito, his eyes wide with horror and fury. "We have to help her!"

Suleiman looked up at the ship, and down the boulevard towards the massive golem.

"I'll stop it!" he cried. "Go help her!"

Saito nodded grimly. Behind him, Karin's manticore knelt down.

"Come!" Karin called. "I'll take you!"

"I'm coming too!" Louise cut in, clambering onto the manticore's back just behind Saito. The manticore flapped onto its wings, and rose into the sky, flying away towards the ship.

"Come on, come on!" snarled Kirche, glaring down at her wand. Her body glowed, and she rose into the air. But the glow flickered, and she landed, staggering until Montmorency caught her.

"Stop it!" the blonde snapped. "You're too tired! We all are!"

"She's my friend!" wailed Kirche, staring with anguished eyes at the ship. "I can't abandon her!"

"You haven't!"

Suleiman drew a breath, and strode down the boulevard, staring hard at the golem. That ship was too far up for his avatar to reach. But this thing was not.

He stopped, and planted his feet. The golem strode on, heedless.

He clapped his hands together in prayer, and his body flared with white fire as he heard Tiffania gasp.

"Hundred Palms Guanyin!"

(X)

Joseph smirked, as Shefield's gargoyles pinned the struggling dragon to the deck. Two more had managed to disarm Charlotte, and were holding her on her knees, awaiting his order.

He had given her a chance to live; to live as a drugged lunatic like her mother. But she had scorned his mercy, and there could be only one response.

"Be patient, Charles," he thought. "Your daughter will be with you soon, and your wife too."

Yes, his brother had everything. Looks, brains, talent, a beautiful wife and daughter. And what did he have? A heart incapable of remorse, even after all that he had done.

He sighed. He would let Charlotte stew a little longer. Time to check on his ultimate creation.

He looked down over the gunwale. The Jormungand, a golem like no other, was striding down the Saint Ciel boulevard. Spells flickered, blasting and battering at the golem's defences. All to no avail.

Joseph's smirk widened. Yes, Bidalshal had done a good job with that one. A shame he had to go and disappear like that.

Not that it mattered. The Jormungand would show its true power soon enough, and the whole world would know the name of Joseph de Gallia. Perhaps he would spare Charlotte just long enough to see it.

Then he paused, as he saw something. A white light, just in front of the golem; a little way from the famous Saint Ciel fountain, or what was left o it. It was bright, and strangely piercing, and growing ever bigger and brighter.

Joseph watched, amazed, as something emerged from the light. A vaguely human shape, with many, many arms.

"Ho?" he oiled, cocking an eyebrow as Sheffield hurried to his side. "Is that...?"

"It can't be..." Sheffield gasped. Joseph glanced at her, and was surprised to see the shock on his violet-haired familiar's face. "How...why is it here?"

"You know it?" he asked.

"It belongs to Arysia, my homeland," Sheffield breathed, eyes fixed on it. "It is a magic like no other."

She gritted her teeth, and Joseph's heart skipped a beat. He knew of this magic, if only from the old stories; the old crusader's tales.

"The Magic that resides in the body of one person, once per generation, born in that land," he mused. "A child of that land's patron god. The East's answer to the West's Void, which even the Church fears."

"Avatar..." breathed Sheffield. Joseph stared down, as the spindly arms reached out towards his golem; the immovable object rising to challenge the irresistible force.

So this was the Avatar. This was what Sotomayor and his Scarlet Tower were so bent on finding. This was what Bidalshal had warned him against, and which Charlotte had narrowly failed to capture.

"Well," he said cheerfully. "The day has gotten a little more interesting!"

(X)