The Gates of Memory, стр. 80

As they fought, though, Brandt worried they were already too late. They weren’t fighting through an isolated pocket of resistance. They were fighting through a well-armed and organized defense. Somehow, this had been planned for some time.

Ana tugged at Brandt’s arm and pulled him to cover just a moment before another arrow sliced through the spot he had just been standing. She glared at him. “Focus.”

Brandt nodded. He and Ana both ran for the door of the building that housed their hopeful assassin. Brandt dodged another arrow just as he saw the archer release, then kicked open the flimsy wood door.

Ana led the way, running up the steps with her nearly impossible lightness. Brandt didn’t bother to follow, instead ensuring the ground floor was clear. By the time he reached the top of the stairs the work would already be done.

The sound of the body thumping to the floor above him confirmed his prediction. A heartbeat later Ana reappeared, wiping the blood from her sword.

He had already lost track of the number of times they had repeated this process. And they still had a long way to go.

He would never again fight in Faldun.

They advanced through another bloody level, and then the resistance suddenly evaporated. Although they remained cautious, they were able to advance the next ten levels without a single attack. Brandt became cautiously optimistic. Perhaps they had a chance.

Ren didn’t share his confidence. “They’re gathering at choke points in the city.” He gestured to the multitude of paths and stairs currently surrounding them. “There are too many ways up here, but the city is designed so that at some levels there are only one or two ways up. That is where we’ll find more resistance.”

Ren’s gloomy prediction proved uncannily accurate.

They found the next pocket of resistance five levels below the entrance to the tunnels. A wall of junk had been erected across their path, and archers behind the barricade stood shoulder to shoulder three ranks deep.

They found Weylen and the other warleaders, too. It wasn’t the planned rendezvous point, but the barricade had stymied them all.

Ren and his party were among the last to arrive. They all took cover while the warleaders discussed their options. Curious, Brandt risked crawling forward, and he poked his head around an exposed corner. The barricade of tables and chairs appeared thick and sturdy, more than sufficient to halt any advance for a crucial few moments. And it was far enough away from any cover than any advance would be sure to meet a wall of arrows before it even reached the barricade.

Brandt couldn’t see any easy way through the defenders. This fight was going to be bloody.

Brandt returned to cover, unwilling to risk his head any longer.

Ana stuck her head around next, then laughed. “Well, that will be easy.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked at him as though he was one of the densest humans that had ever lived. “They’re behind a wooden barricade.”

He stared at her blankly.

“You have one of the strongest fire affinities I’ve ever seen,” she said.

Apparently he was one of the densest human beings that had ever lived. He blamed the Falari. He’d gotten so used to people not using affinities he’d forgotten his own. He approached the warleaders. “If you wish, I can destroy that barricade.”

Weylen looked uncertain. “With your affinity?”

Brandt nodded.

The warleaders shared nervous glances. In the past, they would have been honor bound to refuse such assistance, but the world had changed and Regar had stolen their gate. It was actually Merek, the once-uncertain warleader, who nodded. “Do it.”

“You might get a little chilly,” Brandt warned.

He returned to the corner and began to gather heat. He took it from the air and from the bodies around him. Then he reached out and took even more from those on the other side of the barricade. Confused shouts rose in response to his efforts.

He condensed the heat to two points within the barricade, causing both to catch fire. He continued stealing heat from the surroundings and funneled the power into the flames, spreading them faster than any natural fire.

The warriors on the other side of the barricade barely had time to realize what was happening. By the time they saw the smoke, the fire was already unquenchable. Flames consumed wood with the anger of a starved beast.

When the flames burned well on their own, Brandt shifted his focus. He pushed the fire from the barricade into the soldiers beyond. The rows of archers were engulfed in flame. Those who could ran, but the fire caught most of the enemy archers. Their screams filled Brandt’s ears.

Behind him, Weylen and the other warleaders needed no further encouragement. They came around the corner with bows drawn, putting a merciful end to the screams of their opponents.

Brandt breathed in deeply. As a physical effort, the flames had cost him little. He had served mostly as a conduit.

The emotional toll, though, was a weightier burden to bear. Fire was a horrible way to die, and certainly not befitting of a warrior. Brandt much preferred the blade, expertly wielded to bring about a quick end. But war didn’t always allow for honorable deaths.

Brandt swallowed deeply and pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He would pay for these moments later, but for now he needed to keep pushing ahead.

When the last of the screams faded away, Brandt collected the heat from the burning wood and directed it harmlessly away.

Weylen and the others stepped through the smoldering ruins of the barricade, and Brandt followed them. He forced himself to look upon what he had done. He refused to hide from the suffering he caused. The Falari pulled arrows from the corpses, unwilling to waste the precious resource.

Then the barricade and the bodies were behind them and Brandt moved on to the next challenge.

The next challenge came in the shape of the youngest prince of the empire.

Regar himself stood in front of a line of troops, but this time there was no barricade.