24 #3

“Demanding work.”

His voice ended in another cough.

Isolde wiped the blood from his chin.

Sera and Alcen returned from the eastern entrance. She had cut her father’s ropes. Alcen’s face was swollen, and he walked doubled over.

“Cevran took three horses,” he said. “His technicians are still below.”

“How many?”

“Four. The avalanche separated them.”

Tavra raised her crossbow.

“They’ll come after us.”

“Two are wounded,” Alcen said. “The others have lost the core.”

Isolde looked at the shaft on the western route. It descended between rock walls and leaning posts. An old rope hung to a platform. The weight of a stretcher could snap it.

“We need the technicians’ ropes.”

“I’ll go,” Beren said.

“Tavra goes with you. Have them drop their weapons and plates before they approach.”

“And if they refuse?”

Isolde looked at the slope covered by the avalanche.

“They need a way out too.”

The technicians agreed. They came one at a time with their hands over their heads. The first had a broken ankle. The second was bleeding from the nose. They surrendered two coils of cable, a hauling rope, and three knives.

“The blue cable conducts pressure,” Alcen said. “It can serve as a support if we remove the rods.”

The men avoided looking at him.

Isolde divided the tasks. Darel fastened the rope to three posts. Beren checked every knot. Tavra went down first. The prisoners followed with Enya and the girls. Alcen descended beside Sera.

Kaoran was left until last.

Rheskan landed on the cornice. There was blood on his gums and a blue burn on his chest. He sniffed the stretcher. Then he took the cable in his claws.

He showed Isolde the upper rock, his own weight, and the path below.

“He wants to secure the descent,” Oren said.

“He can leave if the plate hurts him,” Isolde replied.

Rheskan dug his claws in harder.

The choice was made.

Kaoran looked at the dragon.

“Your judgment of my condition is becoming offensive.”

Rheskan brought his snout closer and breathed over his hair.

“He says you smell of blood and stubbornness,” Isolde translated.

“An accurate assessment.”

They secured him to the stretcher. Isolde descended beside him with a rope around her waist. Rheskan held the cable from above while Beren and Darel controlled the weight from the platform.

The stretcher went down.

Kaoran closed his eyes for the first few yards. His breathing quickened. Isolde kept one hand on the frame and the other against his neck.

“Follow my voice,” she said.

“I’d prefer silence.”

“Every post has a name.”

“I’ve seen them.”

“I’m going to read them.”

She began with the nearest.

“Ilen Var. Forty-two years old. Sena Mar. Eleven. Toren Hest…”

Kaoran opened his eyes.

Isolde continued throughout the descent. She read names covered in snow, broken names, and names written by children’s hands. Kaoran breathed between them.

When they reached the platform, Luma ran to the stretcher.

“Is he going to die?”

Enya knelt beside her.

“He’s hurt.”

The girl pulled a green ribbon from her pocket and tied it to one of the handles.

“So the post knows he’s still here.”

Kaoran touched the ribbon with two fingers.

“I’ll still be here to give it back to you.”

The western path was narrow, though it remained clear of deep snow. Rheskan came down from the cornice and walked behind the group. His bulk filled half the trail. The technicians kept their distance.

They walked for three hours.

Kaoran lost consciousness twice. Enya woke him by rubbing his breastbone. Isolde heated small stones in her hands and wrapped them before placing them beside his feet. Every use of fire drew pressure from the distant plates. She learned to release it in brief pulses.

Oren walked beside her.

“Cevran has the order,” he said.

“I know.”

“I kept a tracing.”

He pulled a strip of cloth from inside his boot. The letters were reversed and blurred, copied in charcoal over the seal.

Isolde unfolded it.

Varek’s name appeared in the center. Beneath it was a military authorization for Cendral. The handwriting was Darian’s.

“He signed the project?” Isolde asked.

“He signed off on the use of the route and the concentration of troops,” Oren said. “Varek added the continuity order under the same file. The original shows that the inks are from different dates.”

“The tracing mixes them.”

“Yes.”

“Did you make another?”

“I sent one toward Caleryon two weeks ago. A woman on the Council maintains a line with three knots.”

Aelyn.

Isolde put away the cloth.

“Did you send her the complete order?”

“A copy and the location of the original. Cevran will take the document to Varek. Your friend will know what to look for.”

The news eased part of the weight. The rest remained on the stretcher.

The medical post appeared at dusk. It had a slate roof and a red lamp above the door. Two women came out with a clean stretcher. Enya explained the injury as they went inside.

The older healer examined Kaoran.

“There’s air and blood where the lungs should be working,” she said. “I have to open between the ribs and place a tube.”

Isolde felt the floor move.

“Do it.”

“I need boiled water, clean cloth, and three steady hands.”

“You’ll have it all.”

Kaoran regained consciousness when they cut his bandages.

“Cevran,” he whispered.

“He escaped.”

“Good.”

Isolde leaned over him.

“He has the seal.”

“He’s also afraid.”

“I could have caught him.”

“You chose.”

“He could open another shaft because of that choice.”

Kaoran drew a labored breath.

“Then you’ll close it later.”

The healer placed a strip of leather between his teeth.

Isolde held his hand as they opened his side.

Kaoran squeezed once. The tube went in. Dark blood fell into a bowl. His breathing stopped for two heartbeats and returned with a harsh sound.

Isolde kept counting.

One.

Two.

Three.

When it was over, the healer covered the wound.

“The next few hours will decide.”

Isolde went into the corridor with blood on her hands.

The family waited beside the fire. Luma slept in Enya’s lap. Teri ate bread. Sera tended her father’s face. The six prisoners from the tower rested under blankets. The technicians remained in a locked room, alive.

Beren handed her a vessel of water.

“You got them all out.”

Isolde washed her fingers.

“Cevran got out too.”

“His horse got him out. Look at the people we brought down from the pass.”

“He’ll come back with more men.”

“We’ll leave with more witnesses.”

Isolde looked at the door where they were treating Kaoran.

“Varek has used every rescue to learn how to force me to choose.”

“He’s also learning that you choose people.”