The damage was extensive, Honovi realized with a sinking heart. The Daijalans had come with the intent to eradicate the wardens and their home, striking at the heart of Maricol’s stability. For without wardens to walk the poison fields and guard the borders, no country would be truly safe.
“How many dead?” Honovi asked in a quiet voice.
“We don’t know yet,” Delani said, sounding tired. “The lecture halls, barracks, and refectory were destroyed completely in the initial volley of bombs. The administrative buildings were next. The Daijalans knew where to do the most damage, though I don’t think they were expecting Caris. Her starfire kept them on the defensive, but it didn’t stop them from fighting. They just couldn’t breach the wall.”
He thought of the children and teenagers he’d seen throughout his stay on the island and couldn’t quite hold back a wince. “Your tithes?”
Delani’s expression never changed, hard in the way of one who understood the risk of living a dangerous life. “Many of them never made it to the laboratory entrance. It was the tail end of the midday meal for one rank, and classes were in session.”
“I’m sorry. They’ll dance among the stars.”
“Wardens are nameless and starless. There is no guiding star for us.”
Honovi could hear no bitterness in her voice, and he wondered at the sort of faith she carried to do her duty on a road many wished never to walk. He wondered if she would let herself grieve.
They walked in silence through the rubble, past buildings still standing and others not. The smell of smoke hung heavy on the air, the mountain breeze yet to blow it away. Magicians must have kept any fire from spreading, but the damage was bad enough that Honovi wondered what they would do during winter.
Eventually, Delani led him to what might have been a courtyard once, lit by a gas lamp and filled with debris. Half a dozen wardens stood guard around a single one of their own whose bruised face was familiar from Veran.
Raziel had been stripped of her weapons and her uniform, left to kneel naked in the cool night air and bound by metal cuffs. She was bruised and bloody, one eye half-swollen shut, and one arm appeared as if she still had a bullet lodged in it. Pain etched lines in her face, but her cheeks were free of tears, eyes vacant in a way Honovi knew meant mind magic was at play.
“How did you know it was her?” Honovi asked.
“Wardens saw Raziel fire on her brethren and open the gate to let the Daijalans in. They saw her hand over Blaine but were too far away to stop the soldiers from leaving with him. Wardens shot her and managed to capture her,” Delani said.
“And then you broke her mind?”
Delani shrugged. “I wanted answers.”
“Did you find them?”
Delani tipped her head in his direction, single eye looking at him askance. “A Blade out of Daijal recruited her late last year on behalf of Eimarille.”
Honovi went still, thinking of the Blade who had nearly killed Blaine in Amari. “Terilyn?”
“That was her name in Raziel’s memories.”
Honovi frowned. “That means Eimarille had this attack planned before we fled Amari.”
“Capturing Caris or Blaine was an opportunistic moment. Whether or not they’d been here, Raziel still would have aided the Daijalan forces. She still would have opened that gate.” Delani’s mouth pressed into a thin line, twisting briefly and tinged with grief. “She still would have told them where to target for the most damage and lives lost.”
If Eimarille had planned this attack to happen while she invaded the eastern provinces of Ashion, then he had little doubt she would target the rest of the continent. No country had ever attacked the wardens in such a way in their entire history. Wardens were needed; they always had been. Attempting to eradicate them like this spoke of trying to weaken Maricol as a whole.
“Can Raziel speak on any of this?”
“You’d be better off letting a magician handle her.”
He stared at Raziel, the warden’s gaze looking right through him, as if she didn’t even see him. “Once the communication tower is back up and running, I’ll request reinforcements from Glencoe.”
“All that effort for just one warden?”
“No.” Honovi looked past where Raziel knelt, at the pockets of light glowing in the dark amidst the rubble, thinking of the bodies that must be buried beneath some of it. “You’ll need help to evacuate your wounded to somewhere safe and gain access to the dead. E’ridian airships will provide that.”
As furious as Honovi was, he knew Blaine would never forgive him if he let the wardens suffer. And he couldn’t, in all honesty, turn his back on the people who guarded the borders against revenants. The Warden’s Island wasn’t safe, and if it couldn’t be defended, then its people would have to be transported somewhere else until recovery efforts could begin in earnest.
“We won’t abandon the island,” Delani said.
“You need to coordinate your wardens from somewhere else, at least temporarily. Somewhere Eimarille won’t expect you to be.”
