Sir Estil was eager to learn more about the situation in Galleus, and of how things stood on the Long Wall. "I'd like to speak with Sir Eustace a little longer," he told Arai and the others, "but the three of you should probably get some rest."

Arai could only agree -- he was tired and hungry and he must have looked awful. All three of them were in a pretty ratty state, actually; there were dark circles under Lillandra's eyes and Shell's clothes were ragged. They had, after all, been on the run for almost two weeks.

One of the soldiers led them to a small room within the garrison -- a cell, really, only a few feet square, but it was warm and dry and there were a couple bunks set up for them to sleep in. Deciding he was more tired than hungry, Arai promptly hopped up one of the bunks, while Lillandra and Shell climbed into the other. A few minutes later all three of them were sleeping.

He had no idea how long he slept, but when he awoke, he found Shell warming herself by the stove. "Good morning," she greeted.

"Is it morning?"

"The sun rose about an hour ago. You looked so tired, we let you sleep in."

"Where's Lillandra?" She wasn't in the room.

"Up on the battlements."

"What's she doing up there?"

"Magic, probably."

Arai pulled on his boots. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I was waiting for you."

"Let's go." He led her out of the room, through the garrison, and up several flights of stairs. They finally came to a heavy door, which he pushed open, and suddenly they found themselves outside, on the top of the Long Wall, looking out over the vast Skirrish encampments to the east. The Aeromancer's storms were boiling across the northern horizon, but directly over them, the skies were clear.

They found Lillandra standing on the edge of the Wall, between a pair of merlons, looking out at the storm-swept plain, which was muddy and miserable-looking. "Lillandra?"

"You're awake," she said, without turning to look at him.

"How did you sleep?"

"As well as could be expected. Shell kept kicking me in her sleep."

"I did not," Shell protested.

Arai looked up at the clear skies. Other soldiers, stationed on the battlements, were looking up in wonder as well; it had obviously been a long time since they had seen the blue of the sky. "You're dissolving more storms?" Arai asked.

"And shoring up the spells protecting the Long Wall," she said. "It's becoming more difficult, though. The Aeromancer has finally noticed me. He seems to be concentrating all of his attention on this section of the Wall." She shook her head. "The storms are easy enough to dissipate, but I can't fix these old spells woven into the Wall. They're too badly damaged."

"How much time do we have?"

"Probably only a few hours."

"That's all? Sir Eustace thought we still had a few days."

"Sir Eustace isn't a sorcerer." She turned to face him. "What do you want to do? Do you still want to stay and fight?"

He sighed. He hated the idea of abandoning the Galleans, who were, after all, in danger of being destroyed by a sorcerous tyrant. But this really wasn't his fight, and there wasn't really much he could do, anyway, to help them. Before he could make up his mind, however, they were approached by Sir Estil, who had just stepped out onto the battlements as well. He looked different: he had shaved his long white beard, leaving only a bushy mustache, and he was outfitted like a proper knight now, in cerulean armor, which had been polished to a sheen. He had a sword at his belt and a huge shield strapped to his back. "There you are," he said, by way of greeting. "I have something for you. Please, follow me."

None of them had eaten yet, so he took them to the mess hall first, where they dined on ham, eggs, and toasted bread -- though the military situation was dire, the Galleans were certainly not in danger of running out of food. It was the best meal any of them had had in weeks, and Arai felt stronger for it.

After they finished eating, Sir Estil gave them their gifts: Lillandra and Shell were provided with new clothes, to replace their worn-out traveling garments, and Arai was given a set of armor. It wasn't as complete as Sir Estil's, but it included a cuirass, greaves, and vambraces, which was good enough for Arai; he preferred freedom of movement to the bulky armor these knights wore anyway. The armor, which had been painted pearl-white, was beautiful, and it looked brand new.

"Where did you get this?" Arai asked.

"From a friend of mine in Prestoris. I hope it serves you well."

"Thank you," he said.

"I have placed myself in your service," Sir Estil went on, "and so it is ultimately your decision, but the hour is late, and these people -- my people -- need all the help they can get." He knelt before Arai. "I wish to stay and help defend Galleus from the Aeromancer's armies. Do I have your leave?"

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"Of course," Arai said, embarrassed. "You don't need my permission. Please, get up."

The knight rose. "Thank you." He turned to Lillandra. "You would appear to have had some success, breaking down the Aeromancer's storms."

"Some," she acknowledged. "But as I told Arai, he's taken notice of me now, and it's going to be much more difficult from here on out. His spells are very basic in their construction, but there's a great deal of strength in them."

"I see. And the Wall itself?"

"Beyond repair."

He nodded glumly. "I was afraid of that. We'll have to do the best we can, I suppose, until the reinforcements arrive from Tax Noctum and Tax Trium. If, at the least, you can keep Draj's storms from getting any worse..."

"I'll do what I can to help," she said, glancing at Arai.

"Very good." He looked down at Shell. "As for you, dear one..." He patted her blonde head. "I'm afraid the battlefield is no place for children. I could send you into Prestoris--"

"I'm not leaving Arai and Lillandra," she said firmly. She said it so forcefully that even Arai was a little taken aback; he hadn't realized how attached to them the little girl had become.

"You'll be in danger here."

"I've been in danger my whole life," she shot back. "Besides, I have the Badge of Deflection." She tapped the little pendant she had pinned to her cloak. "Swords and arrows can't touch me. And I have the Witch's Dagger as well, to protect myself." She held up the dagger they had found in Nharlek's castle, which returned to her hand whenever it was thrown.

Sir Estil frowned. "The enemy have these things, too," he said, "and mages as well, who can burn you with fire or freeze you solid. It's not safe here."

"I'm not leaving them," she said again.

"It's all right, Sir Estil," Lillandra said. "I will keep her safe."

The knight nodded slowly. "Have it your way."

No sooner had he said this than another knight, an earnest-looking young man with a shaved head, suddenly burst into the room: "The Aeromancer's dragon is coming this way," he said, with fear in his eyes. "The whole Skirrish army seems to be moving in this direction."

"This is it," Sir Estil said gravely. "Draj is preparing his final assault. Why would he come this way, though?"

"He's coming for me," Lillandra said calmly. "I'm interfering with his spells." She snorted. "I told you he would be curious about me."

Arai didn't like the sound of that. "I'd better get this armor on," he said grimly.

* * *

The battle began less than an hour later. Arai, outfitted in his new white armor, and wearing Silus on his hip, joined Sir Estil, Sir Eustace, Lillandra, and Shell on the battlements, and from there, they watched the Skirrish assault.

The Skirrish sent their mages in first, to cover their soldiers as their siege machines were rolled forward -- the sorcerers, hovering ten or fifteen feet above the ground, deflected arrows and threw balls of fire at any defenders who attempted to thwart them; the Gallean mages responded by throwing their own fire and pelting the Skirrish soldiers with wizard's whiskers -- long, thin, needles, which looked something like knitting needles, but which were sharpened to a fine point. The sorcerers used wind-spells to launch these needles at their opponents, and they rained down on the Skirrish attackers, sticking in the ground or plunking into the wooden siege engines. The Skirrish mages, wearing their own Badges of Deflection, were able to avoid these, but ordinary Skirrish soldiers were frequently skewered.

The Skirrish siege machines launched boulders at the Wall, and above it. The Gallean sorcerers were able to deflect most of these, but a few did manage to get through, crashing into the Wall and loosening chunks of masonry. The sorcerers were so focused on deflecting these projectiles, however, that they were unable to devote sufficient attention to dissolving the Aeromancer's storms, which grew and grew in intensity -- slowly but surely, the wind began to rise once again and a cold, hard rain began hammering at them. Lillandra, wearing the Assassin's Cloak, put her hood up.

The dragon, meanwhile, circled above the battlefield. It wasn't even half the size of Lillandra's pet dragon Catalyus, but even the lowliest dragon was a formidable creature -- dragons were the worst kinds of monsters, extremely fast and aggressive and extremely difficult to kill. Some of them could breathe a fire which burned unnaturally hot; Catalyus' breath had been capable of melting stone.

The Aeromancer's dragon did not attack, however; it continued circling the battlefield, and it stayed well away from the Long Wall. "It can't pass over the Wall," Lillandra explained. "That's one of the forbiddings woven into the stone."

The Skirrish sent siege towers and men with ladders to try to scale the Wall, but these were turned back, time and again, by the Gallean defenders. Though the storm made things difficult for the Galleans, it was almost worse for the poor Skirrish soldiers, who had to march through the muddy bog of the battlefield below, and whose siege engines frequently became mired in the mud.

One of the siege towers eventually drew close enough for the Skirrish to mount an attack on the Wall, however -- a dozen soldiers, hollering out war cries, threw out a gangplank, emerging from the tower and rushing out onto the battlements, where they were cut down by Gallean knights.

Though the Galleans were obviously outnumbered, and menaced by the dragon and the Aeromancer's storms, things seemed to be going reasonably well for them. Sir Estil, on the other hand, was wearing a very grim expression, and Sir Eustace, when he wasn't ordering men around, was grinding his teeth. Lillandra, too, was beginning to look worried.

"What's the matter?" Arai asked her.

"He's just about..." She stopped suddenly, hissing through her teeth. "He's done it. He's broken down the spells on the Long Wall."

At almost the same moment, the dragon -- which was a monstrous scaled thing, black and red and bat-like -- suddenly shrieked and began flying directly towards them, descending through the air at an alarming rate. A triumphant cry went up amongst the Skirrish mages, and several of them lowered themselves back down to the ground, gathering together around a ballista -- a huge crossbow-like contraption -- which had been dragged up to the front.

"What's going on down there?" Arai wondered.

Lillandra frowned at the sorcerers. "They're casting a spell," she said. "It's some kind of..." Her eyes widened. "It's a Volcanic! They're loading a Volcanic into that thing!"

A Volcanic? Arai remembered these from the incident back in Ada -- Lillandra had made a few of them in order to hold off Erek and his animated skeletons. They were a kind of exploding zemi.

Lillandra's zemi had been the size of marbles, however. The heavy glass balls the mages were loading into the ballista below were bigger than a man's head...and the machine was aimed at the section of the Long Wall directly beneath their feet.

It was only then that Arai recognized the danger. "Run!" he shouted.

But it was too late. Arai saw the ballista launch its projectile, and he heard the mages cheer, and then the entire world seemed to go mad: a huge, concussive blast; a titanic explosion; an eruption of dust and debris; and Arai was falling, falling, tumbling down with the rest of the devastated wall, while above, the dragon continued to shriek and the storm continued to rip the sky open with crackling, jagged lines of lightning.

Lillandra disappeared from view. Shell was swallowed up by the dust. He heard Sir Estil shout his name, but then he, too, disappeared, lost in the falling rubble.

The Long Wall had finally failed.