She shook. Being confronted with Vidar like that had stirred up all the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress since her escape. A mixture of emotions fought within her. Relief and gratitude at the way the crew had reacted, had supported her without even knowing who she was. Shock and pain from hearing the events themselves outlined so impersonally. And exhaustion amplified everything else. Somehow, hearing it that way, turned to gossip and politics, made it all the more real. Of course it wasn’t only her world; Vidar’s treachery affected everyone in some way or another. 

Owen finished staggered over to join her, clutching Devlin’s leash with white knuckles. He was still not steady on the slightly swaying deck. She looked at him sitting, calm as ever, on his hammock, one hand resting on Devlin’s head. He wore a concerned, thoughtful look. 

“Should I trust them, Owen?” she asked him, voicing the most troubling and immediate thought that had arisen from the conversation. “Should I tell them who I really am?” She spoke quietly, barely above a whisper, knowing that Owen’s keen ears wouldn’t miss a syllable. As usual, he took a moment before responding. Kaz liked that about him; he really thought about things for himself instead of giving automatic answers. 

“I think that you should wait. They all seem trustworthy to me, but we don’t know any of them very well. I think we should at least tell Otto at some point. He won’t tell anyone he shouldn’t. You saw how careful he is. And he might be able to help us.” 

“I’m glad you’re here, Owen,” she told him, reaching out and taking his hand. “You give good advice.”

Owen laughed. “Thanks. I’m glad you think so. I’ve never really needed to before.”

“Really?” said Kaz. “It doesn’t show.” He kept surprising her.

Kaz realized once more how tired she was. More than the physical exhaustion of the last few days, there was an emotional fatigue that she had neglected and it had left her drained. At the moment all she wanted, or even felt capable of doing, was to lie down and be alone with her own sadness, with the anger and fear and shock she was now left with.

“I think I’m going to go to sleep,” she said. She squeezed his hand and let it go. 

“You doing alright?” asked Owen. Then he made a face. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course you’re not.” 

        Kaz almost laughed. “I don’t know, I hope I’ll be alright again soon,” she said. “Or as alright as I’m capable of at the moment. Right now I just need some time and some sleep.” 

Owen accepted this and she sank into the hammock, into the terrible reality of her present. It started to rain, the drops spattering the canopy overhead. Maybe the moisture would clean away the hurt of the last several days, would nurture her as it nurtured the forest. With this hope, she slept. 

~

The great marketplace of Antak was crowded. People packed the enormous paved square. It wasn’t a market day, so it was empty of stalls. Instead, a crowd filled the space. It looked to Kaz like half the population of the great city. Some were scared, others angry, all jostling to see the spectacle unfolding at the base of the palace hill. 

The front of the square marked the edge of the great basin between mountains in which Antak sat. There, the ground sloped upward at an angle guaranteed to make calves burn. A fountain started partway up the slope and played down into a pool at the edge of the square. 

Standing along the edge of the pool stood six men and women wearing robes in various colors. Along the upper rim of the fountain, six more stood on the street above. Kaz recognized a few of the royal battle mages in the upper line, including one of Vidar’s close friends, a sunlight mage called Jonathan. She saw the ranks of soldiers preparing to descend upon the crowd and, with a twist of rage, she spotted Vidar positioned safely just behind the mages. His elegant features were as blank, and his eyes as cold as ever. 

A woman in the white and yellow robes of an air mage stepped forward. She began to sway in a gentle, dancing movement. The wind began to gather, tossing hair and clothing in random swirls and eddies throughout the square. She spoke, and the wind carried and magnified her voice until it rang clearly over the crowd. 

“Tyrant. The man who calls himself Sapan. Tainted with Void. We do not follow you. We do not recognize your authority. You are a murderer and you have no right to rule. And if you do not step down now, we will show you that the elements do not support you.” 

Vidar moved forward until he stood to Jonathan’s left. He addressed the crowd, and although he had no wind to amplify his voice, it carried clearly. Kaz shivered as his clear, warm baritone vibrated through her. She did not want to remember that voice. 

“It’s true,” he said. “But what you don’t know is why. What I did was necessary. The royal line was tainted with corruption and decadence, the elements’ influence worn away almost completely. Tell me truly: when did you last feel taken care of by the Sapan? When did you truly believe in the empire as more than a failsafe against bandits and pirates?

“Inti chose the ruler long ago, but the line has continued for too long. Ch’usaj told me that it is time to start a new line. She chose me, told me that the only way to clear the taint of stagnant power, to truly restore the elements’ gift to rule, was to cleanse the entire line. So I have done so. And now it is time to usher in a new era of peace and prosperity.

“I do not want to hurt you. Stand down and you will be welcomed into my glorious new empire. Resist and you will be disposed of with the rest of the old paradigm.”

Kaz clenched her fists, grinding her teeth at the false promise of his words. Around her, the crowd muttered and seethed. Some seemed convinced. Others shouted angrily. Again the wind picked up and the mage spoke. 

“Usurper, since when has Ch’usaj created anything good, created anything at all? She is the great destroyer. And how do you expect us to believe that you will lead us justly when your claim to power was established with blood and destruction?” 

Heads nodded in the crowd and among the lower line of mages. 

Vidar smiled. Kaz knew the charm of that smile, but also knew, even without being close enough to see it, that his green eyes remained cold. 

“Ch’usaj had been repressed and misunderstood since she was created,” replied Vidar. “Much like the people of the empire. I know the pain of being overlooked and misunderstood. All that Ch’usaj and I want is justice for all. Equality and balance.”

“Bullshit!” called a huge man in the red robes of a fire mage. He sucked in a great lungful of air and then expelled a great gout of flame from his mouth. It rushed straight towards Vidar. A mage in blue standing at the upper edge of the fountain raised her hands and the water from the pool rose to meet the fire. Steam poured out. 

Chaos descended. 

The elements flew and clashed in every direction. Every mage had sprung into action, although some more obviously than others. Some danced or moved. Some seemed to be speaking. One pulled out a flute, another a pocket loom. 

The crowd began to retreat in screaming panic from the battling mages. To Kaz’s fury, she saw Vidar’s mages attacking the fleeing bystanders as well as the mages below. Fire and lightning lanced into the crowd, striking those just trying to get away. A sunlight mage in the square drew a long line in the dust and a wall of brilliant sunlight descended to protect the fleeing people. 

Jonathan shouted something and the sunlight wall shredded, dissolving into glimmers and fading glow. Another word and a second glowing wall blocked one of the square’s main exits. A chasm opened at another. Confined to a bottleneck at the remaining exit, the crowd began to panic. People fell to the ground as they tried to avoid a slash of lightning, were bowled over by a blast of wind, or found themselves jostled in the crush of bodies.

The mages in the square tried to defend the defenseless crowd and maintain their attack on Vidar’s mages. Kaz tried to summon her own lightning to help, but she was a ghost, hovering helpless in the midst of the chaos. She saw that Vidar had disappeared, and wanted to shout, to send someone to find him. 

Soldiers streamed into the square, assaulting anyone who got in their way. They fell upon the mages, who were so busy defending themselves and the crowd from the enemy mages that they could hardly do anything else. The wind mage collapsed, and Kaz saw her dark eyes lose their anger as blood spurted from her slashed throat. 

She could have sworn that the battle had begun during the day. Perhaps it had been later than she thought, or perhaps she lost track of time in the horrifying chaos. But suddenly the moon was high and full over the battle, washing everything in a pale glow. 

And all of Vidar’s mages and soldiers were frozen, trapped in a delicate net of moonlight. Vidar floated into sight, lifted to the top of the fountain by the same silver light. 

A woman stepped over the fallen city mages to the edge of the pool. She wore the indigo and silver robes of Killa. Kaz blinked, then stared. It was Chel, her paleness accentuated in the moonlight.  

“Vidar,” said Chel, “You will not be allowed to get away with this.” 

The silver light grew until it obscured the square, the fountain, and all the people. Only silver was left. 

Kaz awoke, confused and angry, lightning fizzing in her veins. 

Next Chapter: 32: Owen - Challenges