23 #3

“How many are coming?” Isolde asked.

Alcen looked at the glimmers in the forest.

“Twelve from the east. Eight along the sea path. Cevran is bringing a core.”

“Where are they holding Sera?”

“In the pass. With a guide’s family.”

“Is Oren heading for her?”

“He’s heading for the archive. He doesn’t know the route is closed.”

Isolde took the knife from Tavra’s hand.

“Beren, get everyone out through the light tunnel. Neira takes the transfers. Silen, the accounts. Each book travels with a different person.”

“And him?” Tavra asked.

“He guides us to the pass.”

Alcen opened his eyes.

“They’ll kill me before I get there.”

“You’ll walk ahead of us.”

Kaoran climbed the first step.

“Your task?”

“Close the House once they’re out.”

“The core can immobilize you.”

“Rheskan is outside the arc.”

The dragon answered from the roof. He had returned without the lookouts seeing him. He showed Isolde four groups among the trees and a wagon on the eastern path.

Then he showed her the tunnel beneath the House.

“He’ll watch the exit,” she said.

Kaoran held her gaze.

“Ten minutes.”

“Eight.”

“Seven, and I go with you.”

“Eight.”

Kaoran went down.

Isolde took Alcen to the ground floor. The boys were filling bags with copies. Neira had divided the names among three notebooks. Her mother hid a sheet inside her skirt lining.

“If someone falls,” Neira said, “the rest keep going.”

“That’s how the evidence will survive,” Isolde replied.

Beren opened the tunnel behind the hearth. The stone swung aside, revealing a stairway.

The first people left.

Cevran spoke from the forest.

“Hand over the prisoner and the plate. The commission will guarantee safe passage for the civilians.”

Alcen began to shake.

Tavra caught his shirt collar.

“Listen to the guarantee.”

“My daughter…”

“She stays alive as long as you’re useful.”

Isolde waited for Beren’s mother to enter the tunnel. Kaoran was the last of the evacuees. He carried a small bag and the burned notebook.

“Eight minutes,” he said.

The main door gave way.

Isolde pushed Alcen toward the hidden stairs.

“Walk.”

“I can tell them you escaped north.”

“You’ve sent enough signals already.”

Tavra closed the stone behind him.

Isolde was alone in the House.

Three soldiers came in with blue shields. She hurled the table at their legs. The first fell. The second drove a rod into the floor.

The wood vibrated.

The hearth fire bent toward the tip.

Isolde took three breaths.

The rage stayed beneath her ribs. She conducted the heat through hinges, nails, and the lamp’s iron ring. The metal expanded all at once.

The shutters fell.

Morning light filled the hall. The soldiers lost the protection of shadow. Isolde struck the first with the bench, snatched the second man’s shield, and threw the rod through a window.

Cevran entered as she reached the stairs.

The burn from the marsh covered one cheek. His arm was bandaged, and he carried a blue-plated sword.

“The regent let you go,” he said.

“You tried to kill his men.”

“Important orders come at a cost.”

Isolde raised the shield.

“Say that in front of them.”

Two guards from the vanguard stood in the doorway. They had accompanied Cevran on Darian’s orders. They exchanged a look when they heard him.

Cevran attacked.

The blue blade cut the edge of the shield. Isolde retreated up the stairs. The captain followed. Every blow left cold on the wood. The sword absorbed heat from the air.

Isolde let him believe in her retreat.

When she reached the lighthouse, she dropped the shield and turned the lens wheel. The reflector struck Cevran in the back. He fell against the railing. Isolde wrenched away his sword.

The guards came up.

Cevran extended his hand.

“Arrest her.”

Neither advanced.

“The regent ordered us to hold you in custody,” one said.

“The commission rescinded that order.”

“We haven’t received it in writing.”

Isolde cut the counterweight rope.

The lens descended between her and the three men. Its frame blocked the stairs. Isolde leaped onto the lower roof and rolled across the wet tiles.

An arrow passed beside her hip.

Rheskan flew over the courtyard. He carried a rope in his claws. He dropped it without approaching the core.

Isolde caught the end.

The dragon pulled her across the gap between the House and the cliff. Isolde struck the wall, lost a boot, and fell into a stand of pines. She released the rope before she could pull Rheskan into the branches.

Pain ran through her shoulder.

She got up and ran toward the tunnel.

Behind her, Cevran ordered the House burned.

Smoke covered the tower.

* * *

The tunnel exit was half a league away, inside a dry water tank. Isolde found the group in a grove. The healer was checking Kaoran’s bandages. Tavra held Alcen with a rope around his waist.

Neira counted the bags.

“One is missing.”

One of the boys felt his chest.

“The continuity sheet.”

“We had it?” Isolde asked.

“It arrived before dawn. Oren sent it with a shepherd.”

“Where was it?”

“Inside the lighthouse clock.”

The House burned among the trees.

Beren gripped the boy’s shoulders.

“Did you make a copy?”

“I started. Half was still missing.”

The boy pulled a folded sheet from his shoe.

The text preserved three paragraphs and an order code. Isolde read the legible lines.

After a rupture in the Scar, the commission would assume control of routes, dragons, mines, and local forces for a period with no end date.

Exposed villages would be relocated to guarded settlements.

The Council would retain an advisory role.

Emergency command would fall to a protector appointed by the project.

The last line ended in the middle of a word.

“Who is the protector?” Neira asked.

“The burned part would say,” the boy replied.

Alcen looked at the code.

“Varek.”

Tavra tightened the rope.

“Did you see it?”

“I engraved the seal at West-4. The name was underneath.”

Kaoran took the partial copy.

“We have the process, the money, and the victims. Oren has the complete order.”

Isolde studied the four bags. Each held a part. Together, they proved the project existed. Separately, they could look like illegal accounts, prisoner lists, or emergency plans.

“We’ll make nine packets,” she said.

“There are four books,” Silen replied.

“We’ll copy all night.”

“The hunters will close the roads.”

“We’ll use the villages in the table.”

Neira understood first.

“Varek calculated how much pain they could bear.”

“Every village will receive its row, the names of its missing people, and the accounts its taxes paid for,” Isolde said. “They’ll keep evidence they recognize.”

Beren looked at his mother.

“Bren will take a packet.”

“It will take two, by different routes,” she said.

The decision passed through the group. Silen chose a quarry. Tavra chose the families of West-7. The boys volunteered to copy.

Kaoran gave a tired smile.

“A chain also joins the people pulling on it.”

Isolde looked at the smoke from the House.

“This time we’ll all pull.”

They worked in a seaweed drying shed until dawn.