but Tejohn himself had entreated the king to preserve their name and banner; they’d been stationed at Beddalin Hole--guard duty for Peradain, essentially--because they had earned a place of safety and prestige.
Tejohn couldn’t see the black field with the blurry red smear that could only be the Splashtown waterfall banner against the yellow-green of the surrounding grasses. In fact, he couldn’t see any sign of black and red. Had they already moved out? “Mister Farrabell, start toward the northeast.”
“We’re not going to Fort Samsit,” Lar said. “Not yet.”
“My prince,” Tejohn said, “there’s no room for anyone else.”
“That isn’t my plan,” Lar said. “I can cast the Sixth Gift, and so can Caz.” The Freewell girl jumped as if startled, then nodded. “And so can Doctor Warpoole and Doctor...”
“Eelhook, my prince,” Ciriam said.
“You can cast that spell, can’t you?”
Doctor Warpoole wore a icy expression. “It’s been a while, but I’m sure we can manage.”
Below, a spear of the fleet squad broke through a stand of tall grass and sprinted in their direction. Moments later, one of the beasts raced into the open and ran him down as easily as a parent catching a disobedient toddler. Tejohn could do nothing but watch the way one smear of color overtook the other and listen to the sounds they made. The Freewell girl fumbled at her pocket for one of her darts, but Doctor Warpoole stopped her with a gentle hand on the girl’s wrist.
It was already too late. The beast dragged the man out of sight into the grasses. The screams made Tejohn’s blood run cold.
The cart picked up speed as they headed back toward the city wall. “Higher,” Tejohn said.
“Yes, my tyr,” the driver said gratefully.
There were more screams as they approached the city. “My prince,” Tejohn said, “what is your plan?”
Lar seemed reluctant to look away from the city ahead. “We get high, very high above the palace. We four cast the Sixth Gift in the air above the portal, dropping stone blocks onto the dais beside it. We heap the stone until no more of these things can get through!”
The Freewell girl gasped. “Yes,” Doctor Warpoole said. “Yes, of course! We can do that.”
Tejohn noticed a flash of red fabric on the ground below and leaned over the side.
Third Splashtown had been destroyed. He couldn’t see them clearly, not from this distance, but he could see smudges of colors motionless in the yellow grasses. Six... no, seven of them were the purple color of the beast men, but everywhere he looked he could see black and red, motionless. The shock line had been smashed.
Even the screams were fading. Tejohn felt a familiar companion reappear within him. It had been a long time since he’d felt the rage, despair, and grief that came in the wake of an invading army, but there it was again. The queen’s remarks about revisiting his pain had piqued them, but now they piled up within him like a thunderhead. Third Splashtown had been his. He wore their colors in the gym every day, and he was proud to be part of their history. Now they had been Fire-taken.
Bittler cried out, “Look!”
He wasn’t pointing at the carnage below. Instead, he pointed toward the city.
Tejohn squinted into the distance, but he had no idea what he was supposed to be seeing.
“I can’t see that far,” Doctor Warpoole said. “What’s happening?”
“There’s another, larger flying cart hovered over the palace,” Bittler said. “They’re dropping pink granite blocks down into the courtyard below. It has to be onto the portal, don’t you think?”
“What a clever plan,” Lar said.
“Oh!” Bittler sounded suddenly alarmed. “The cart just rocked to the side, like a boat on a rough river. A piece of the black disk above them just flew upward like...like blown dandelion fluff.”
“They’re throwing stones,” the Freewell girl said. “The beasts