3. A Wall Away

The Duke limped down the drive. The trio bobbled after him, following.

“Take me!” Luc begged, blue eyes glimmering with hope.

“We won’t get in the way. We’ll watch from the wall, we won’t be trouble at all,” Yvon promised.

“We can’t,” Emilie argued, but she followed after the Duke, hesitant to leave him behind.

“Madeline!” the Duke called.

A horse galloped out from around the side of the house, already saddled and ready to go. It drew up beside the Duke. Momentarily balancing on his bad leg, he stepped into the saddle, pulled himself up, then grabbed his bad leg and slotted it into the waiting straps down the near side of the saddle. With practiced motions, he buckled his bad leg against the saddle, then sat up straight. He handed his cane to Luc.

Luc took it, disappointment already crawling over his face.

“I can’t take you with me, but Madeline should have the fast carriage ready. Run back to the stables. Andre will take you up to the wall. You can watch from there.”

“R-really?” Luc asked, surprised.

Emilie blinked.

Yvon looked up, brows furrowed. “Why now? Before, you always sent us in to wait and eat sweets with Madeline.”

The Duke grinned. “You’re old enough now. Who knows? Maybe it’ll encourage our little Guerre to awaken.”

Emilie blushed. “I—my family is a distant branch. We haven’t awakened a mage since great-grandfather’s time, and even then—”

Duke Jerome leaned down and ruffled her hair. “Don’t count yourself out. Magic might sleep in a branch for generations, only to awaken more powerfully than the main family ever managed. My own father came from a distant branch of the Terre family, but look at me now! Duke Jerome.”

Blushing even deeper, Emilie nodded, eyes locked on the floor.

Sitting upright, Duke Jerome kicked his horse. It leaped into motion and galloped off down the hill.

Luc sighed as he watched the duke vanish. “I wish I was part of a bloodline.”

“No you don’t,” Emilie replied, grimacing.

Yvon rolled his eyes. In a high-pitched voice, he said, “Oh no, my life is suffering. I have to go to all these fancy parties, and I might get magic one day, oh no! What sadness, to have to marry into money! Oh no, I might awaken as a mage and have the power to move mountains and stir the seas! Whatever shall I do?”

Luc giggled.

Emilie frowned at him. “It’s not like that. I’ve only been to one fancy party, and it was boring and the food was bad. Second off, I’m not a member of House Terre or House Mer, so how am I going to move mountains and stir the seas? Guerre’s domain is war, not earth or water. And anyways, that’s not what I sound like at all.”

“Oooh, I might get magic, I’m so sad,” Yvon continued, ignoring her protest.

Emilie lunged at him, throwing a punch. Yvon dodged away, giggling.

“Oh no, I might inherit lots of money,” Luc added, joining the teasing with a grin.

“Not you, too,” Emilie sighed, rolling her eyes. “My family isn’t even rich.”

“Isn’t rich? Your pants don’t have any patches!” Luc replied.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’ve got shirts and pants and dresses. More than one set of each, too!” Yvon added.

Frustrated, Emilie threw her hands up. “That’s not rich! That’s just… normal.”

“Now I’m bragging to my poor friends because I’m not rich enough to brag to my rich friends,” Yvon said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m so saaaad,” Luc said.

Screaming, Emilie charged at both of them. Yvon dodged out of the way, but Luc jumped the wrong way and stumbled into Yvon. Yvon shoved him back, and Emilie crashed into Luc, pinning him to the ground. She punched at him, scowling. “Shut up, shut up!”

The cane fell to the wayside. Luc blocked her punches with his forearms, still laughing. Her punches barely stung, compared to the older kids at the Institute. “Alright, alright, you aren’t rich, you aren’t.”

“Finally,” Emilie muttered, climbing off him.

Dusting himself off, Luc stood. He leaned toward Yvon and muttered, “She’s totally rich, though.”

Yvon smirked.

Emilie whirled. “What was that?”

Before the three could get into it again, a grizzled man, hair graying, rode up on a lightweight chaise. He smiled at the children and gestured. “Come on in. Madeline told me Duke Jerome wanted to take you to the wall.”

Argument instantly forgotten, the three piled onto the carriage. Luc and Yvon both leaped for the front seat and squeezed in beside Andre. The two scuffled, banging up against Andre, until at last Yvon took the seat. Luc squeezed up against the railing, half-in, half-out of the open-topped structure. Sitting primly in the back seat, Emilie shook her head at the boys.

Andre flicked the reins, and they rode off down the hill.

They rode back through the center of town. All around them, shutters slammed shut over windows and locks clicked into place behind shut doors. Townsfolk ran back into their houses, mothers calling children home, husbands sprinting in from gardens and fields. A few men and women ran out of their houses, throwing on armor and strapping weapons on their belts.

“I heard it’s a big one!”

“If the dayshift guards can’t handle it alone, it’d better be!”

“Damn straight. My bread’s gonna burn.”

“It’ll be fine. The Duke’s on his way!”

Out the other side of the town, and toward the wall. A few riders pulled ahead of them, racing for the already-closing gates. Clutching the railing to hold himself in the chaise, Luc cast a jealous glance after the riders.

“Be nice if we turned out to secretly be part of a bloodline, huh?” Yvon asked, giving Luc a look from the corner of his eyes.

Luc sighed. “I wish.”

“I’d be happy even if I was part of an un-Welled bloodline,” Yvon said, gazing ahead, past the massive stone walls that blocked the horizon ahead of them.

“Un-Welled?” Luc asked.

“Minor gods have bloodlines too. They’re weaker than the Welled gods’ bloodlines, obviously, since the minor gods aren’t strong enough to manifest a Wellsource in our plane, but as long as the god is… or rather, wasstrong enough to manifest a physical body on this plane, they can have a bloodline,” Emilie explained.

Luc glanced over his shoulder. “Huh? Am I the only one who didn’t know?”

Yvon smirked and patted his shoulder. “It’s alright. You’re still my friend, even if you’re stupid.”

“It’s not exactly common knowledge. I only know because I’m from a bloodline,” Emilie explained. After a moment’s pause, she continued: “Because bloodlines aren’t supposed to mix. The gods don’t like it. Mom says the gods have even struck down mixed-bloods in the past. That’s why the priests keep such a close eye on bloodlines, even the un-Welled ones, to make sure no one mixes lines on accident.”

“Huh,” Luc said.

“But they stop tracking after three generations without a mage. At that point… the bloodline has diluted too much. There won’t be any more mages in that line,” she said, her voice diminishing as she spoke until the final line was almost a whisper.

“It’s not the end of the world if you’re not part of a bloodline, you know. There’s good living to be had by ordinary folk, too,” Andre said, a wry grin on his face.

“Yeah, but I want to have magic,” Luc sighed.

Andre chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t we all.”

They rode on, past fields and forests. The wall grew closer and closer until it blocked out the entire world on one side, stone from earth to the sky above. Andre pulled the carriage to a halt beside a set of stairs that had been carved into the wall years ago. They cut back and forth across the stone, climbing steeply into the sky. A worn rope-and-iron-post railing marked the outer edge of the stairs.

Luc hopped off the carriage and sprinted for the stairs. Yvon followed, hot on his tail. Not to be outdone, Emilie chased after them. She caught up to Yvon and squeezed past him, but with his head start, Luc remained well ahead of the two of them.

“Whoa, whoa, no need to rush. Take it slow,” Andre said, walking up the stairs.

“Come on!” Luc called, breathless. He paused at a landing to look back.

Emilie rounded the corner behind him and began to scale the stairs directly behind him. Luc jumped and ran off again, charging away from Emilie.

Emilie raced after him, fists pumping, eyes narrowed. One flight after another, she gained on Luc slowly but surely, the stairs between them diminishing.

Face red, chest heaving, Luc struggled, barely maintaining his lead. “Emilie, truce, truce!”

“No truce. You’re going to lose this race,” Emilie said, grinning.

“You can do it, Luc!” Yvon shouted from behind. He half-jogged, half-walked, amused.

Luc gritted his teeth and roared. Two flights left! He hurtled up the stairs, around the turn, up the stairs again.

Worn rock cracked under his foot. Luc lost his footing and fell away from the wall. The void opened up below him. He saw the town, the forest, the field. The carriage laid far below, barely as big as a mouse.

Adrenaline pounded into his system. He spun his arms blindly and snagged the rope railing with one hand. Luc held on tight, panting, eyes wide. His legs laid on the stairs but most of his weight hung over the drop, supported only by the rope. He stared at the gap below, the tiny figures underneath him. I almost fell—

“Luc!” Emilie screamed.

The rope snapped.

Luc threw his weight backward, slowing his fall, but too much of his weight laid over the edge for him to stop himself. For a few eternal seconds, he hung in the air. He sucked in a breath, arms desperately searching for something, anything.

Stone. Air. Nothing.

Luc plunged.

A hand closed around the back of his belt and yanked. He flew backward and slammed into the stone wall.

Emilie stood over him, panting, her hair soaked with sweat, brow dripping with it. Sunlight glimmered in her hair and reflected in her eyes for just a moment, and then she shifted, and it was gone. She wiped her forehead and shook herself, chest heaving. “You—I thought you were dead.”

“I thought I was dead, too,” Luc muttered. He looked at his hands, then at his scraped knees.

“I damn told you to take it slow!” Andre shouted from below, panicked. He ran after them, spinning around the corners.

Yvon got there first. He leaned toward the wall, eyeing the broken railing with trepidation. “Let’s get away from here before someone else falls.”

“Yeah,” Luc said. He stared at the broken rope and shook his head. Slowly, carefully, he climbed to his feet. His legs shook. He took one step, then another, one hand against the stone wall, as far from the railing as he could be.

His legs stopped shaking. His breathing steadied. Luc shook his head and pushed off again. He darted ahead of Emilie and burst out onto the top of the wall first.

“I win!” Luc said, beaming.

“That doesn’t count! You can’t win if I stopped racing to save your life,” Emilie snapped, annoyed.

“I don’t know, Emilie, it looks like a win to me,” Yvon said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, boys.”

Atop the wall, a half-dozen guards turned, bows held loosely in their hands. Arranged loosely around a strange iron structure, they stared at the newcomers.

“Hey! You guys can’t be up here!” one of the guards called, putting his hands on his hips.

“Leave it, Eric. They’re the Duke’s kids,” another guard muttered.

“The Duke’s—” Eric looked at the other guard, confused.

“We aren’t his kids,” Emilie protested.

The other guard sighed and rolled her eyes. “The Duke’s favorites. Everyone knows he likes those orphans. Gods know why, but, well, he isn’t called the Mad Duke for nothing.”

“I’m not an orphan!” Emilie said.

“I mean, we can make it happen?” Yvon offered.

Luc laughed, then covered his mouth.

Emilie frowned at him. “That’s not funny. Don’t joke about that.”

Yvon shrugged. “I’m not going to, but you know. I can’t un-orphan myself, but…”

“Yvon.” Emilie shot him her best teacher-glare.

A roar shook the air around them. The three of them crouched atop the wall, reflexively covering their heads.

Yvon stood first. He peered over the far side of the wall from a healthy distance back, leaning his head out over the wall.

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “Whoa.”

Luc jogged to the edge, then froze and stared as well.

“What?” Emilie asked. She leaned forward.

Down below, guards stood before the wall, arrayed in a loose arc around the gate. Some held weapons. Others lofted their fists high, gemstones barely visible in their grasps. A nervous air hung over them, a fear palpable from atop the wall.

A dozen feet ahead of the guards, the Duke sat atop his horse. Unlike the others, he sat upright and confident, completely unworried.

A contingent of guards ushered a tight knot of farmers and animals behind the arc, into relative protection. One of the farmers fought, turning back toward his fields, but the guards pushed him toward the gate.

“Is that Jean-Denis? The shepherd?” one of the guards atop the wall muttered.

“Again? I feel bad for the man. He lost half his flock to the last attack…”

“That’s the danger of farming outside the wall, I suppose. More fertile land and plenty of grazing field, but you have to contend with the monsters. Great risk for great reward.”

Across from them, an enormous centipede slithered at the wall. Easily twenty feet long and as tall as a man, the low-slung creature opened its mandibles wide. Pale brown legs jutted out from craggy, segmented armor, black carapace glittering in the sun. Clusters of red eyes gazed dead ahead, maddened. Black streamed from its mouth, horrid teeth clashing hungrily.

“Ugh,” Emilie muttered.

“I know,” Luc agreed.

Yvon stared silently, hugging himself.

Smaller centipedes followed the large one, a half-dozen of the monsters chasing their leader into battle. From as long as a man to half as long as the leader, they churned up the earth beneath them with sharp-tipped feet. Snapping mandibles devoured anything in their way. An unfortunate sheep fled before them, bleating wildly.

Below, the shepherd who’d struggled earlier fought toward the monsters again, only to get shoved back once more.

The centipedes caught up with the sheep. It gave one last horrid scream as they fell upon it, then vanished under their maws. Bloodstained wool flew, red startling against the white.

Emilie shrieked and pressed a hand against her mouth. Luc bit his lip, silent. Yvon stared, wide-eyed.

Below, the Duke rode out in front of the other guards. The centipede caught sight of him and hissed. Arcing up, it sped toward the duke, legs pedaling in midair as its rear legs powered it onward.

The Duke raised his hand.

Earth churned. Razor-sharp legs hammered the ground. Black mist hissed from its jaws. Closer and closer, bearing down on the Duke, an unstoppable wall of chitin. A hundred feet. Ninety. Eighty.

“Come on! Come on!” Luc breathed, clenching his fists tight in fear.

“He’s got it,” Yvon said, but he still fidgeted a little.

“If he doesn’t do something soon, it’ll be moving too fast to stop, no matter what he does!” Emilie said, scared.

Eric smiled at the three of them. “You’ve never seen our Duke at work before, huh? Just hold on. You’re in for a treat.”

Fifty. Forty. The centipede loomed over him. Its shadow swallowed the Duke. Still he held his hand high, motionless as a statue.

“Come on! Move!” Luc shouted.

“He’s got it,” Yvon said, a note of nervousness in his voice.

Emilie bit her lip.

Thirty. Twenty. Ten. The centipede lunged down on him, mandibles wide, maw open.

The Duke dropped his hand.

A stone spur pierced through the ground and slammed into the centipede’s gaping mouth. The centipede’s own lunge forced the spur through its head and out the other side. Yellowish ichor spouted, rolling down its exoskeleton. Its red eyes dimmed. The black smoke huffed out, then stopped. Carried by momentum, its body slammed into the spur, piling up against itself.

The Duke’s horse danced back, avoiding the flopping mandibles. The centipede tumbled into a limp pile, ichor pouring down from its head.

“Whoa,” Luc breathed, eyes wide.

Yvon stared in silence, equally awestruck.

“Phew,” Emilie breathed, a hand to her chest.

Joerg chuckled. “What, did you think his title of Duke of House Terre was for nothing? He’s the strongest mage of the Terre bloodline! This is child’s play to him.”

“Men! Draw!” Eric barked.

Bows lifted. Bowstrings strained, arrows glinting.

“Aim! Fire!”

A volley of arrows rained down on the centipedes below. Three of the arrows glittered with green light. Those arrows arced fiercely toward the centipedes, falling with uncanny precision. One struck an eye; another, a leg joint; another, a chink in a centipede’s armor. Most of the other arrows bounced off, though a few found a soft spot and dug deep.

Luc whirled and peered down the line, searching for the mages. Three bows glowed with a pale green light. Eric, a dark-haired woman, and a man with the same face as the woman. Under Eric’s calls, they drew their bows back, and the light moved from their bows to the arrows. They fired again, and their arrows struck weak spots again, unfailingly.

“Wow,” Luc breathed.

Andre made it to the top of the wall at last, panting. He waved at the guards, who nodded back at him. “You—you kids, stay back from the edge!”

Luc gave him a grin and a thumbs-up.

“Especially you,” Andre grumbled, jabbing a finger at Luc.

“Chassers, on me,” Eric called. The other mages drew alongside Eric, and together, they approached an iron device.

“What’s that?” Luc asked, scurrying closer. Emilie followed close behind, while Yvon trailed a bit, hanging back.

On closer examination, the device looked like a huge crossbow built of iron. A wire of some shining white metal held tense behind a thick bolt. A white panel at its rear stood out against the black metal, startlingly bright.

Eric glanced at them. “It’s a new siege weapon. It’s meant to allow multiple mages to cast a larger spell by pooling their powers. Usually, it’s incredibly difficult to—wait, why am I explaining to a bunch of kids?”

“Go on, go on,” Luc said, eyes shining. Emilie nodded as well, eager.

He waved them away. “Watch and learn, kids.”

One of the mages adjusted the iron device, aiming at the centipedes below. Eric and the others pressed their hands to the back of the device, where a pale white panel sat.

Green light poured into the device. It gathered in the weapon’s base, close to where they touched. Eric and the others focused intently, all furrowed brows and bitten lips. A mage faltered, and the light flickered, almost going out.

“That’s enough, that’s enough! Bernard can’t handle any more. The spell will splutter!” Eric urged.

The woman nodded and drew back. Bernard muttered an apology and backed away. Eric took over. He adjusted the device, then frowned. “Fire.”

A huge bolt shot out of the device, glowing with green light. It arced down and smashed through a centipede’s head, pinning the beast to the earth.

The mages cheered, punching the air. “Yes!” “We did it!”

Luc clapped enthusiastically. Emilie wolf-whistled, eyes sparkling. Even Yvon stood on his tiptoes, curious to see more.

Contrary to the others, Eric’s frown grew deeper. Murmuring to himself, he put a hand on his chin and regarded the device. “It takes too long to fire and takes too much mana. Not to mention that it still requires multiple mages of the same bloodline to operate it. No… I still don’t like these newfangled contraptions. I should tell the Duke to send it back to the piss-poor artificer who made it.”

Below, the smaller centipedes raced toward the Duke. He kicked his horse into motion and drew it around, racing away from the centipedes.

“What’s going on? He can’t handle it?” Emilie asked.

“Hardly,” Andre scoffed.

The centipedes chased him mindlessly. As he passed behind the defensive line, the Duke threw his arms out. A jagged stone barrier thrust out of the earth, sharp ends of the stone jabbing at the charging centipedes. Only four feet tall, the fortification only stopped their initial rush. Within seconds, the lead centipedes arced up and lunged.

The guards atop the wall lowered their bows and began to talk amongst themselves. Luc glanced around, confused. From below, metal clashed with chitin. He turned toward the gate far below.

Blades flashed. The guards cut the centipedes apart. One of the women held a gemstone high, and the earth softened around the centipedes. They skittered, but their razor-blade legs only sunk faster. Another gestured upward, and a pillar of earth struck a centipede in its soft underbelly. A few of the guards danced from attack to attack, blades shimmering with a black light. Emilie watched them jealously, clenching her shirt.

The Duke watched over them from behind. A centipede clambered over the wall, and he flicked his hand toward it. A spike stabbed out of the jagged wall and bit into its gut. A pair of guards reached it in the next second, and working together, struck the monster’s head off.

“Is it… training?” Luc guessed.

Yvon scoffed. “Obviously. The Duke has to go to the capital sometimes, right? He needs to be able to trust Le-Voux to the town guard while he’s gone.”

Andre chuckled. “Aye, don’t act so proud when you only just figured it out yourself, lad.”

Yvon scowled at him. “Shut up.”

Luc laughed and patted Yvon on the back.

“Be-behind!” Emilie shouted.

The three of them whirled. Down below, a centipede wobbled, reaching over the wall. It had been cut in half, its midriff leaking ichor and guts, but it continued to move. Mandibles reached out for the Duke, its body shuddering. It drew its head back to strike.

“Shit! Men!” Eric shouted.

The guards atop the wall scrambled for their bows.

“They aren’t going to make it!” Luc shouted. He ran for the edge of the wall.

Andre caught him and drew him back. “Watch it, kid! What do you think you’re going to do, throw yourself off the wall and kill yourself?”

“I—someone has to—warn him!” Luc argued, fighting Andre.

A blaze of white and chestnut. Emilie burst past them. She leaped out over the wall, arms and legs pedaling.

“Emilie!” Luc and Yvon shouted in concert.

“Fuck!” Andre released Luc and ran for the edge, but it was already too late.

Emilie fell. Wind streamed past her. Her hair flew back, shirt flapping. She raised a hand.

Black light flashed. Her whole body glowed with it. It burst, too bright to look at, then shaped into a blade in her raised hand. She brought it down on the centipede’s head, then smashed into it boots-first and burst it apart. Ichor splattered over her, the Duke, and the fortifications, so far below.

Small as an ant, Emilie looked at her hands, at the black light still glowing off them, at the dead centipede, then up at her friends, so high above. She grinned and waved, mouth moving.

Luc didn’t have to hear it to know what she said:

“I awakened!”

He waved back. “Congrats!” he shouted, smiling nearly as broad.

Deep inside, something panged. A pain he’d never felt before. A pain he couldn’t put a name to. Luc’s smile never faltered, but inside his chest, something awful twisted.

Yvon clicked his tongue and turned away, scowling fiercely.

The Duke turned, belatedly. He smiled at Emilie and patted her head, a smile just for her. The pain grew stronger. At last, Luc’s smile faltered. He backed away from the edge of the wall as guilt settled over his pain.

I should be happy for her. I ought to be. This is her moment. She was so sure she’d never awaken, but—

But she’s a noble, and I’m a commoner. A mere orphan.

I’ll never awaken. I’ll never be anyone. I’ll just be another pitiful farmer, hiding behind the walls. Protected.

Luc bit his lip until he tasted blood. A hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up and met Yvon’s eyes, saw the same realization in Yvon’s eyes, but tired, exhausted. A realization that had sat inside him for a long time. The source of the bite in his words when he teased Emilie.

“We have to congratulate her,” Luc said quietly.

“I know,” Yvon replied.

Another moment. Silence.

“Is this—the way it’s meant to be?” Luc asked abruptly.

Yvon laughed. “And who do we ask to change it? The gods? The ones who made it like this in the first place?”

Luc looked at his hands. He clenched them and felt for the first time how powerless he was. If I fell from the wall, I would have died. She jumped down like it was nothing.

This gap that has opened between us… will never close.

Luc shook his head. “No!”

“Huh?” Yvon asked, startled.

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t give up! I’ll become the strongest who ever lived, even if I don’t have a bloodline! I’ll cut down monsters and travel through the wilds without anyone’s help! And no one can stop me!” Luc swore. He stepped forward and looked down at the guards, fending off the centipedes. Emilie flashed among them, a blaze of dark light, her body twisting and leaping in ways no ordinary human ever could.

Instead of focusing on her, he turned his attention to the few guards who stood among the mages. The ones whose blades didn’t glimmer, who didn’t hold gemstones and call a domain to their will. If they can do it, so can I!

Yvon stared. Abruptly, he laughed. “That’s right. We’ll do it. Even as orphans without any bloodline, we’ll do it!”