ris
Anyone in whiteis a target. I stab and slash wildly, slamming into bodies, walls. It feels like riding waves trying to get to the queen. My heart slows as I see Finlyr has her. Now, strike now. But he doesn’t, and then he’s doubled over, and the queen is escaping.
I pursue, grabbing at the hem of her dress and twisting it round her ankle. She goes down hard, slamming her shoulder onto the flagstones. She writhes under my grip as I try to cut her, slashing wildly at anything within my reach. I slither my way closer to her, possessed by some fury I can’t describe. I swipe across the back of the ankle, and she screams in anguish. The blood flows thick and fast. Just like mine. She is mortal after all.
She kicks me hard in the chest, sending me sprawling. By the time I recover, she’s out of sight. I try to follow her blood trail, but a deafening crack fills the air around me. I look up, and the sky is falling. At first that’s what it feels like. It’s raining stone, great chunks of rock smashing into the ground and colliding with the Bastion. Buildings begin to topple and explode around us, and there’s dust in my eyes and my nose. It’s like breathing sand, and I gasp in the chaos.
I try to find Finlyr and Hanan in the chaos, but the dust is thick in the air, making everything shadows. The confusion, deafening roar of hundreds of mouths, grasping hands, panicked eyes. Only Isagani is close to me, and I grab at their tunic, wrenching them close to me.
‘Isagani, stay with me.’
‘Is that your blood?’ they ask, wiping dirt from their face.
I shake my head. ‘It’s the queen’s.’
‘We did it?’ they ask, brightening.
‘No, but she’s badly hurt. We have to get out of here.’
The destruction has spilled downhill from the Bastion, and we move with determination through the remains of Umasa, following the mass of bodies pushing and pressing.
The streets are a confusion, half the buildings destroyed, and others threatening to collapse. There are people everywhere, clutching their possessions and loved ones, shouting and screaming. Some of them are running; others are standing in the town square paralysed with fear and overwhelm. I’m sure there are many others hunkered down in basements, hoping to wait out the devastation. Bodies impaled on smashed wooden walls. Homes aflame as smoke chokes and blinds. Blood and salt and water make rivers in the streets. I think of Narra, Morna, and Ligaya. Are they together? Did anyone have enough time? The chaos hit so quickly, I doubt it.
‘Follow the shore,’ I insist, and we start running towards the dock. ‘We have to get off the mainland.’
‘What about the others?’ Isagani protests, stopping so suddenly they almost pull my arm.
I put one hand on their shoulder and meet their eye. ‘Look around, kid. We have to go; it’s not safe here. The others have to fend for themselves.’
‘We can’t leave them.’
‘We have to get to the Spring Isle, all right?’
Isagani nods and reluctantly follows. The dock is quickly filling with desperation. Anyone with their own vessel is on the water.Others who are setting off have either blades to protect their spot or goods to offer in exchange for one.
We make our way to the ferry, the largest boat, which already has a crowd roaring and beseeching.
‘The ferry will return,’ the captain says evenly. ‘Now I won’t let anyone on if you don’t form an orderly line.’
‘An orderly line? We need to shove off now!’
I barge my way to the front to see what’s happening, dragging Isagani by the hand.
‘We have to get on this boat,’ I whisper to them. ‘There may not be another.’ My instinct to run is not quite quenched, fire licking at my heels. All I know is we must get home.
‘I’ll get as many of you on as I can, but we don’t want to capsize.’
There are angry protests and accusations of injustice from the dock.
‘Let’s find a private vessel,’ the agitated passenger insists, taking their partner by the arm and moving away.
The captain finally allows us to board, and I’m buffeted by bodies. I lose Isagani’s hand as I get swept up, pushed hard against the railings of the boarding plank. They must be right behind me, but I can’t see them. I try to avoid the clutching at my clothes and the livid stares. Some people are overladen with bags, hitting others with them to ensure they get priority. The captain is shouting at the top of their voice, and the eager crew try to maintain order, to no avail. We are cramped, and those on board are reluctant to move down.
‘There’s room on the aft side, move down.’
A surly-faced passenger holds their bags closer to them.
The captain looks frantic, trying to count the passengers, to estimate our combined weight. Paranish, I hope we don’t sink.
