Manas drags Brac out of the wagon and throws him to the ground. Brac lands on his side, motionless. His wrists are bound with snakeroot. My heart dips so low I feel nothing but its quickening thrum.
“My scouts found him outside the palace wall. He was trying to light a palm tree on fire. Amusing, isn’t it? You thought I held him captive when I didn’t, and this is a surprise to you now.” I grind my teeth down on a response. “Open the gate and you can have him.”
Hastin climbs the ladder to the top of the wall and glowers at Udug. “General Naik is in no position to negotiate.”
Manas sneers at the warlord’s mention of my rank. I would relish his fuming if not for Brac, bound and unconscious at his feet.
“You want bloodshed?” Udug pushes his eerie blue fire into his hands. “You will lose this battle.” He signals his men. “Archers ready!”
Hastin instructs his rebels. “Galers ready the sky! Tremblers hold the ground!”
Brac is so close, yet I cannot get to him. How do I get to him? The archers light their arrows aflame and aim toward the churning storm clouds.
“Get low!” I shout to my troops.
Manas calls, “Fire!”
Arrows whirl at us. I loop my arm over Asha and pull her down with me. Galers summon a gust that throws some of the fiery arrows back. The loose ones strike stone and bounce away. Natesa and Yatin crouch near us. An arrow barely misses Yatin’s leg. Two sister warriors are struck.
The whizzing arrows stop, and I peer over the rampart. Brac has not moved. Soldiers heft ramps and prop them along the wall. Galer winds sweep the ramps into the clouds. But more soldiers bring additional ramps, pressing with them into the storm.
Udug heaves his blue fire at the barricaded gate. Hastin and several Tremblers fortify the clay bricks from their side, but on the outside, the blue fire melts a hole. I need to go now, while the Voider is distracted.
“Natesa,” I say, and her attention snaps to me, “you’re in charge. Remember, do not engage Udug, only the soldiers.”
I leap over the wall onto a ramp. My knees jar, and I roll down the incline to the ground. I push up, and a talwar blade jabs at my middle. I reel away and draw my khanda on Manas.
“You’re the general of who?” he demands. “Those women?”
“Sister warriors,” I correct, parrying his thrust. Lightning touches down behind us, and the air crackles. Men scream. A catapult burns from the lightning strike. “You’re serving the wrong master. Walk away, Manas.”
“So you can save your dirty bhuta brother?” He elbows me in the side, and I spin away. Our blades stretch between us. “As soon as the rajah wins back his palace, I will keep your brother prisoner and let his blood every day. I will cut him over and over again.” Manas swings his talwar, and our weapons clang. “He will beg for me to finish him.”
“You’re done hurting bhutas.” I slam down, striking his bent knee, and then rotate and bury my khanda in his chest. “May Anu have mercy on your soul.”
Manas jerks once and keels over. I wrench my sword from his chest. Behind me, soldiers brace ramps against the wall and scale them. A quake rattles them, and the ramps fall, slamming into the ground.
Hail the size of my fist pummels down and bashes the forefront of the troops. Men dive under wagons or catapults for shelter. The beating hail dents the catapult buckets and mangles the springs, rendering them unusable.
I run for Brac and cut away the snakeroot binding his wrists. His eyes snap open the second the poison is gone, and he moans. The last of the archers release more whirring, burning arrows. Sudden rains and winds redirect most of them back over the wall at us. Brac throws up a heatwave, singeing them. Ash drifts down and washes to silt in the downpour.
My brother clutches his chest. “Gods, burning something felt good.”
I clap his shoulder and hoist him up. “A palm tree on fire?”
“It was a good idea. Would have worked too, if those scouts hadn’t caught me.”
Behind us, a quake opens a crater in the ground. Several rows of archers drop into the sinkhole. Past them, the road beneath the light cavalry warps and heaves. The spooked horses scatter and buck, throwing their riders. Many are trampled in the animals’ retreat.
Brac scoops up a dropped shield. “Time to get out of the way.”
We dash to the shelter of the wall. Sister warriors battle above us on the ramparts, but the wind and hail obscure my sight. Udug has burned a tunnel through the reinforced brick and hurls his unnatural fire at the last defense, the gate. The bars warp and melt. He opens his arms wide in triumph and passes through the huge, smoking hole. He need only step foot in the palace, and he will be free from Ashwin and his heart’s wish.
Aquifiers wait for him on the other side. They draw streams of water from the prepositioned barrels and shoot. When the water suspends itself over the Voider’s head, the streams harden to jagged icicles and rain down. The daggered ice impales Udug’s back and the ground around him.
He yanks an icicle from his arm and throws it aside. His cold-fire burns the last of them away. His puncture wounds seep tarlike blood. But one after another, they seal up and heal.
“Your powers cannot harm me,” Udug says. “The bhuta soul-fire I consumed protects me against your defenses.”
Gods’ mercy.
Another cloudburst unleashes directly over us. Brac and I slip through the palace gate to flee the onslaught of ricocheting hail.
The rebels are wreaking havoc inside the gate. Aquifiers shoot streams of water from the barrels at soldiers, drowning them by flooding their mouth and nose. Men are flung over the wall, blown into the night by Galers. I spot Opal among them, winnowing a soldier who gets too close. Tremblers use bricks and rocks to smash their opponents’ skull. Despite the gruesome casualties, imperial soldiers continue to pour into the palace grounds.
The last of the light cavalry charges in, and a rider snaps a whip at Brac. The corded weapon, weighted by a trio of balls at the end, swings around his legs and trips him.
Though his arms and hands are free, Brac lies limp on his side. I slice through the cord, disconnecting him from the rider. While the soldier reaches for his khanda, I arch my blade overhead and cut him down.
I go to Brac and disentangle him. Up close, I see the whip is not made of leather but interconnected cords of a poisonous vine—snakeroot. The soldiers fashioned a weapon that can neutralize bhuta powers. All the riders have them.
“Son of a scorpion,” Brac says, shaking out of the last of the weighted cord.
I help him stand. “Stay clear of those.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” Brac pushes fire into his fingers. His abilities returned, he throws a curry-colored heatwave at another rider.
The sister warriors hold the line atop the wall, but I do not pick out Yatin or Natesa in the fray. Bodies are strung about, as many imperial soldiers as ranis. None I recognize, but the loss of life sickens me.
The ground trembles beneath us. Brac and I hunker down to withstand the tidal wave of quakes. Across the courtyard, a crevice opens in the ground between Hastin and Udug. A handful of unlucky soldiers fall in, their screams dying off. The warlord pulls the palace away from the demon, and a divide grows between them. We are stranded on the side the warlord pushed away, the chasm between us.
Udug treads up to the gulch. “You bhutas think you’re such masters of nature.” He manifests two burning balls and throws one to his left, one to his right. They blast through the rebel lines, clearing a path.
His soldiers march through the gate with ramps. Galers turn squalls on them, propelling them back. Some of the gusts pluck up the ramps and whirl the men off into the sky. But there are too many soldiers and ramps to stop them all. One unit reaches the gap, drops its ramp, and fashions a bridge to the other side.
Udug rushes across the ravine, and then a quake shakes the temporary bridge loose, and it falls out of sight.
“We have to get across!” Brac says.
The Galers tossing soldiers around gives me an idea. I grab a ramp and drag it to Opal. “Use your winds to throw me to the other side.”
“Deven, that’s dangerous!”
“Udug is already there. Do it!”
Brac throws a heatwave at a soldier behind me, and the man runs away screaming and covered in flames. “Send me too,” Brac says.
Opal sees Udug on the palace side and gives in to our lunacy. “All right. Turn around and hold your breath.”
Brac and I overlook the chasm and lift the ramp in front of us.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he says.
“I do.” I think.
“On three,” Opal says. Brac and I hold our breath. “One, two . . . !”
Gusts barrel at us. The ramp we are holding serves as a sail, lifting us over the chasm. I make the mistake of looking down into the ravine, but we soar over the expanse and drop the ramp, so we land and roll.
Brac rises beside me. He held on to his shield, and I kept my sword.
The rebels hold their ground in front of the palace, fighting the imperial troops that had attacked before the chasm opened. Soldiers howl as rebels winnow, leech, and grind their opponents. We join the fight, Brac with his fire and I with my sword.
Hastin and Anjali defend the entrance. Udug cuts at them with his powers. His flames burn Anjali’s arm, and she falls back. Hastin roots himself in front of his daughter and throws bricks and pavers at the demon, who burns the debris to cinders.
Udug gains on Hastin until they are toe to toe. Hastin grabs Udug’s throat to grind his bones. Their skin-to-skin connection backfires. Udug pushes his powers into him, and the warlord ruptures into blue light. Anjali cries out in rage but is too injured to confront the Voider.
The palace entry lies ahead, wide open.
I knock out a soldier and shout at Brac. He whirls around, sees Udug nearing the palace, and lobs a heatwave at his back.
Udug bunches his shoulders to absorb the hit, pivots, and returns fire. Brac ducks behind his shield, but the blast flings him over the gully. Opal cushions his fall with a well-timed gust. His shield protected him, but he is on the wrong side of the trench again.