Chapter 33: A Midnight Library Raid

Landar

It didn’t take long to get where Ezekial was leading us. A compound, tucked in between the western wall and several large tenant buildings made from hardened stone flew a flag with a coin, and a crown on it I took as the Lord-Collectors flag.

“This is my fathers office.” Ezekial explained, as two knights and half a dozen men-at-arms brandishing spears and heavy armor emerged from the small fort-like ‘office’ building and began escorting our group inside. The walls that surrounded the small, almost claustrophobic courtyard were tall, and thick, and were built in the same fashion as the gigantic walls that protected the city, just on a smaller scale.

The main ‘office’ building was six stories tall, and though most of it was obscured from easy viewing from the street, I could tell the higher rooms held a commanding view of the entire lower city. I spotted several spotters with spy glasses watching the conflict on several of the higher balconies, carefully taking notes, and handing them off to runners who stood with them.

As we walked up the short stairs and through the tall and slender double doors that fed into the main hall, I saw other scribes compiling the intelligence reports and storing them in large books.

Reminds me of scrap booking. So this guy is watching everything take place, and as soon as the information is fed into his intelligence group, it's getting cataloged. I wonder why? For the duke perhaps? Or something else?

We entered the main hall, past another set of heavily guarded doors, and we entered controlled chaos.

The lord collector stood in the heart of the hall, receiving information, and dolling out orders. He listened to his counselors report information, and then watched as it was transferred to the massive diorama of the city. Wooden representations of buildings were removed, replaced with black x’s, and flags were moved about what seemed like every few seconds as dozens of attendees went to work trying to keep the information presented on the miniature as accurate as possible.

“Father, we have returned from our patrol.” Ezekial walked up to where his father was surrounded by his other counselors and removed his helmet.

“It's good to have you back son. The Gray Priesthood has withdrawn to the guildhouses in the west of the city. We are here, in the east, and most of their forces on this side have started coalescing around us here in the Hall of Coin. The Blue has the temple complex, and the noble district largely on lockdown. If they’re able to convince even a fraction of the so far neutral noble houses to join their cause, we might as well surrender.”

“Are we formulating a plan of attack, father?”

“If by we, you mean my officers and I, then yes.” The old noble quirked a smile, “You’ve been out there doing the real fighting. But yes, we think we have an opening. The witching hour is not far off, but for our plan to work we’ll need the support of the city watch. Not just the knightly orders, but the gate commanders as well.”

“Its good we have one of them here then.” Ezekial turned, and motioned for Tomas to step forward. The large man filled the space offered. He was large, even by the standards of these warriors, most looked like children compared to him.

“Your son is a good man. Even if I have my differences with him. How can I be of service Lord-Collector?” Tomas said, bowing his head with his hand over his heart in the typical solute to one of higher social and military rank.

“Raise your head man. We don’t have time for formalities right now. How many men does your garrison hold?”

“Given thirty minutes I can muster maybe twenty men ready for a fight. But they’re officers of the duke's law. Not trained or equipped to fight knights.”

“And I wouldn’t ask them too. We need them to keep the peasants away from the fighting, and evacuate as many of the non-combatants as possible. Acolytes in particular, as we rescue them, your men need to see them safely away from the fighting. Can you do that?”

“Do you have a semaphore?”

“Yes. On the roof.”

“Then lead the way, I'll get my people on the move as quickly as possible.”

***

I followed my father to the roof, while my mother asked if she could help tend to the wounded. She was led away by one of the men-at-arms, but gave both Tomas and I a hug before she left. “Be safe.”

“We’ll do our best.” Tomas said as the two let each other go.

The roof held a tall tower right at its center that held a platform. On the platform were two wood panels, each one with different colored squares attached to them. A specially trained worker replaced the colored squares, and operated the panels which moved up and down, in order to signal to other semaphore stations across the city. I vaguely remembered something similar existing back in Europe. It had been the mainstay of communications for centuries before the telegraph and later phone were invented.

Unlike those old Earth semaphores however, a simple magical shimmer warped the air around it. So the message would only be received by the station it was intended for as my father gave his orders through the worker. Old school encryption, interesting.

A few minutes later, another worker, this one with a spyglass, wrote down the return message to my fathers sent orders.

“Orders Received. Will leave skeleton crew at gate, and meet at requested location. Will bring supplies and weapons. Oswald.” Tomas read the message out loud.

“That’s good. Right? Oswald is back and helping out.” I said, trying to get my father’s scowl to lighten slightly. The man’s mood had been dark since we heard the news. Understandable, my own feelings were difficult to control. But I was concerned his emotions might jeopardize our part in whatever master plan the Lord Collector was cooking up.

Not that they were overly concerned about my sister to change their plans if it meant an increased chance to save her. The Lord Collector would do what was best for his organization, and the city as a whole. They would do their duty, but I doubted any of them would go out of their way to save her more than they would any of the other acolytes.

I on the other hand . . .

“Yes, it's good to know he's in command until they get here.”

We were led back down stairs, and soon found ourselves back in the planning room, where our part in the soon to unfold events would be made clear.

***

I twirled my axes nervously, as I looked down the long road towards the temple complex. Tomas’s men including Oswald were strung out in squads along one of the eastern side roads. With each squad was a healer, supported by several volunteer peasants who would help evacuate wounded or injured people.

Elsbeth was among them, organizing the peasant volunteers and ensuring they had bandages and other needful supplies. Including weak health potions from the gate house stores. They wouldn’t do much, but they would help stabilize someone who might otherwise die from serious injury, long enough for one of the magical healers to get to them.

If all else failed, they were each also issued a lock of what amounted to cannabis called Silver Dream Leaf. A purple three starred clover that when chewed had a calming and pain relieving effect.

Chewing the entire plant, stem and all three leaves at once, would overdose someone and send them into catatonic sleep from which they would never wake up. Elsbeth had instructed them never to use it, unless to end someone's suffering who had no hope of survival.

Triage was never a pretty thing. But they were as ready for it as they could be.

Tomas was stationed at the very front. That first squad stood as a bulwark against anything coming down the street, and consisted of Ezekial, Tomas, Oswald who carried an absurdly heavy crossbow for his tiny frame. Two more men carried spears with a confidence that told me they had been using the weapons for years and rounded out that group.

I had been assigned to the rear guard. The young guards who had been tasked with look out duty to ensure nothing came up behind us and caught the group unaware. With two squads of knights guarding our flank on the parallel streets, it was by far the safest position. One my father only let me take because he had no other choice.

Where was he going to send me home? Right, the place assassins and kidnappers no doubt knew about and had already been to at least once. “Besides” I had said when Elsbeth objected. “I have these.” I hefted both axes, and they hummed with more magic than most of the weapons the adults were carrying. “I’m safest where there are others who can protect me. Not hiding in a cellar.”

As a compromise, I had been stuck on spotter duty for the place in the line that had the least likelihood of being flanked.

Of course, I had other plans. Sorry mom and dad, but someone has to be in there, making sure Tabitha makes it out safely.

The moment the young guardsmen who was in charge of our squad had his back turned, I ducked into an open door just off the street, and worked my way through the building until I reached a parallel road out the back door of the apartment building.

I ducked low to avoid being spotted, and ran along the inside stone wall that protected a small green strip in front of the apartment complex from easy street access. I heard knights speaking softly as true night fell, clerics cast protective spells, muting the light from their magic as best they could with blankets, jackets, or coats so as to not give away their location. I used those flashes to move through gaps in the wall where I might easily be spotted and moved as quickly as I could towards the temple complex.

Eventually I came to the front line. Two squads of six knights, supported by half a dozen clerics and a handful of mages in rainbow robes that I had seen around town, and knew only vaguely they belonged to the Outer Wizards Tower, whatever that was, stood in support.

In front of me was more road lined with apartment buildings, and then an open courtyard that led directly to the temple complex's double gate house doors. Both doors had been shattered in the fighting, splinters covered the cracked stone and little remained of their frames but twisted metal. Part of the wall itself had been broken in half, with gaps all along the edifice with somewhat convenient rubble in some places that would work perfect for a ramp.

It shouldn’t be hard to climb up some of that rubble, and get inside unnoticed. They are, after all, looking for adults or older teens. Not some half starved pre-teen with a death wish. But I have to move quickly, before the assault. I just have to wait for the right distraction.

A flair of bright white light erupted from the far side of the city, and exploded as it reached its arches zenith.

“Get ready!” Someone shouted. “The western forces should be making their move on the blues outer defenses shortly. Once the blues are distracted, then we attack.” The leader of the knights said. “Are the ladders in place?”

He continued to do one last check, and all of the attention was either on that bright light, or on their gear.

I didn’t have long, but this was the perfect moment. I ran for it, rolling my heel to the flat of my foot to keep my feet from slapping against stone and alerting the knights to my presence. They would mistake me for an enemy scout for sure.

Light strobed in the sky for a few seconds more, before the flair began to die. My legs burned even as I got to the halfway point between my hiding spot and the pile of rubble I had selected. I reached the pile just as the last strobe died, and another bright flair was launched into the air.

Only a few seconds of darkness, I have to move!

I scrambled up the rocks, going by feel as much by memory in the near pitch black. I smacked my shin, but the adrenaline kept the pain at bay, even as I felt blood trickling down my leg. Just as I reached the top, the strobing light erupted overhead.

The face of a young startled blue robed man illuminated directly in front of me as I crested the rubble. “Gah!” He shouted, but I didn’t have a moment to spare yelling. I reached for my hatchet with one hand, and pulled it free from its loop, launching it into the guy's face which was just inches from mine.

His nose erupted in blood, and for a moment he was blinded. I gripped the haft of my hatchet and brought the flat end down on his head. He crumpled, and fell unmoving on the stone. I peaked over his body into the courtyard beyond, and found dozens of blue robes in a near panic.

They were all young men and women. Most were teenagers, the older looked to be in their early twenties. They all held wands and cujduls as they watched over dozens of prisoners who were being held hostage there.

A few of the prisoners had wrestled one of their captors to the ground, bloodied him, and stole his wand. They were wreaking havoc on the far end of the courtyard. They didn’t stand a chance to actually win, but they had sowed enough chaos that when the knight's charge came, I was sure they could take most of these morons without much bloodshed.

They weren’t guilty anyway. Most were probably just like the stupid kid I had just brained. Feeling guilty, I pulled the kid over the rubble and placed him facing up, then I popped the Weak Healing Potion I had been given, and poured it down his throat. He was just following orders.

For most soldiers, that phrase wouldn’t be good enough justification to follow unlawful or down right immoral commands. But this kid? He wasn’t a soldier. I was pretty sure he had been placed here, along with the hostages, and other acolytes or initiates of the blue, as a distraction. Living shields, against the knights and gray’s conscience.

The gray might fall for it, I thought as I placed the now empty bottle between several pieces of rubble, then went about stripping off his blue robe as quickly and quietly as I could. But the knights won’t. They’ll murder these kids if they don’t surrender. That’s for damn sure, and they won’t lose a single night of sleep over it.

That's what soldiers did. What they had to do, when the real enemy insisted on hiding behind the innocent. It was a hard lesson I had learned in the sandbox. If the bastards strap a kid with an explosive vest, and send that kid running towards you for help?

There wasn’t a choice.

You had to save your buddies, you had to pull that trigger with no hesitation.

All you could do was pray that you’d have the opportunity to reap righteous hellfire down on the monsters who really killed the kid. The ones who strapped him with c-4 and hoped he’d take a bunch of US soldiers with him.

These teens and young people? They were that same trap, just in a different form. Fodder, bodies to feed into the machinery of war in the hopes of slowing down what was coming.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

When your enemy is a monster, sometimes you have to play by their rules, despite everything you do to try and get out of it.

What was that quote? He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster? Yeah well, that was pretty shitty advice.

Sometimes, to take down a monster you have to become a different kind of monster. Not the same as that bastard, hell no. Never that. But, you can’t let the man who dragged you into the blood, and mud, win. He has to die, otherwise it’ll keep happening.

Over, and over, and over again.

How do you keep yourself from becoming the thing you’re righting you might ask? You start by not being the one who strapped a kid with C-4, or used a bunch of teenagers as human shields. That's how.

New, slightly too large robe on, I scrambled over the top of the rocks as the commotion on the far side began to die down. Suddenly, as my feet touched the ground, a second flare, this one with a reddish tint to it, erupted from the eastern side of the city.

A battle cry filled with rage and malice shook the earth, and rattled the air around me. The knights were coming, and they wouldn’t be caught in the trap of innocents the High Priest of the blue priesthood had set.

I had to move.

***

The teens in the courtyard ran around in a disorganized panic. Some tried to re-enter the temple building itself, only to find the main door was closed and barred with a magical barrier. Others were already putting their weapons down, crying, and more than a handful were already standing in a puddle of their own terrified urine.

My heart raced as the scent of fear was almost palpable in the air. A battle is a terrifying place, even for those trained and well equipped for it. That's right kids, give up. It's the only way you’re getting out of this alive.

I ran along the building, looking for another opening and finding nothing that wasn’t blocked by some kind of magical barrier, or completely barricaded through physical means. THat is, until I started down in the direction of the orphanage.

The windows here were dark, and while most at the ground floor still had a barrier, near the far end some on the second floor looked like someone had left them open.

As the first group of knights charged through the the gate house, nearly all of the blue robed teens dropped their weapons and surrendered. Some tried to run, but were easily caught and brought to the ground by extremely powerful knights.

As they began spreading out looking for those hiding stragglers who had gotten away, I found what I was looking for. A set of handholds and a drain pipe led right next to one of the few open windows.

I climbed.

My arms and hands started cramping by the time I reached the top. But I pushed through, forcing them to work despite the pain. Eventually I got to the window. My hands were frozen, I could release them, but I was having a hard time closing them again in a reasonable time. I couldn’t hold on much longer, my strength was waning.

Damn it!

I jumped, and made my left arm hook into the window. My arm wrenched hard, as my full body weight slammed into my elbow and shoulder. I forced my hands open and closed, hanging there for a few seconds while they recovered and watched as the knights took the courtyard and secured the grounds below.

There were only a few casualties, but their bodies were being dragged away for later identification. The prisoners were released and sent out and down the road where my father and his people waited, while the blue robed acolytes and teenagers were rounded up and tied together in a chain. Their wands and weapons were confiscated. As the medics began tending to their wounded, I felt feeling return to my fingers.

Finally! I pulled myself through the window and into the darkness of the abandoned orphanage.

***

The orphanage was not as abandoned as I had thought.

Dozens of knives greeted me as I exited the empty storage room I had found myself in, and into the main hallway. Children younger, and older than me held kitchen knives, broom handles sharpened into sticks, and a dozen other improvised weapons.

“It's one of those blue rats. Should we gut him now, or let Grandmother do it?” A younger kid asked one of the older teens who was clearly the leader of the group.

She had red hair, green eyes, and carried a wicked looking knife attached to a long plank of wood that worked as a serviceable spear. A spear she jabbed at my neck threateningly.

I raised my hands. “I’m not a threat. I’m here to help.”

“You’re just one of those brats who got scared and ran inside,” she proclaimed as if she had found me out. “Why shouldn’t I gut you and leave you to die?”

“I promise. I’m not a threat. I’m here because the blue has my sister, and I'm trying to get her back. I stole the robe from a kid I knocked out. See? It doesn’t even fit me right.” I lifted a sleeve and let it hang. I had been holding it with my thumb to keep it out of my way and it fell past my fingers.

She met my eyes, and for a moment I felt as if I was being examined by someone who was much older, and much wiser. It was an unnerving feeling.

“Take his axes.” The girl commanded and three younger kids that looked to be a little younger than me pulled them out of their loops and confiscated them. “We'll take him to Grandmother. She’ll decide what to do.”

They marched me down several hallways blocked on one end with a barrier of furniture and debris, until we reached a narrow staircase. “Down,” she ordered and I complied. Eventually, we came to a large kitchen that was filled with cobwebs except for a single path leading to the next room. “Go.”

Again I complied, and followed the girls instructions. I entered a large room, filled with row after row of bunk beds barely kept together with nails and scrap wood. It reeked of body odor, and other fouler things.

In the center of the room was a small play area with several half broken chairs, and dozens of toys in ill repair. I was sure Tomas’s and my own contributions were in the mix somewhere, I even recognized several wood carvings among the piles that we had donated as part of our tithe.

In fact, the more I examined them, the more I realized nearly all of the toys, those that were newer, to those that were older, looked familiar. The oldest looked like the generic blob creatures Tomas made before I had begun whittling with him. As they got newer, they grew in quality and most were not at least somewhat recognizable as what they were supposed to be.

“What are you staring at?” The redheaded girl asked.

“The toys. They’re familiar.”

“I’m sure you rich blue boys have all the newest toys, and toss us your scraps when you’re done with them. Keep moving.”

I did as I was told but kept speaking. “That's not why.” I stopped, stooped, and picked up a familiar looking dog-bear-thing that Tomas had made that first night we had sat together, my hands cramping with nearly every push of the carving knife.

“Drop it.” She commanded, and I placed it gently back down on the ground.

“My father made that.”

Her eyes grew even more suspicious. “Your dad made the little lamby? I don’t believe you. Why would a noble stoop to whittling kids' toys?”

“Wait. You think that’s a lamb?” I pointed at the blob, and if I squinted I guess I could see it.

“Why? What's it supposed to be?”

“A dog. I thought it looked more like a bear. But that’s being kind about it.”

“Stop lying and keep moving. Grandmother is just over there.” I turned, and continued to walk where she instructed.

“Camilla? Camilla is that you?”

“Yes grandmother! I captured one of the blue brats.”

“Oh? Let me, Landar? Is that you?” As I turned the corner into another open area on the far side of the long barracks-like room, I found Mother Margarat tending to a baby that was probably younger than a year, while sitting in a rocking chair feeding it from a specially made waterskin. A small horde of young children gathered around her, sleeping in bunks or beds. Or rather, doing their best to pretend to be asleep.

“Yes Mother Margaret, it is.”

“Why, by the mothers grace, are you wearing blue robes?”

“The knights have taken the courtyard outside, but I doubt they will make it past the shielding any time soon. It looked strong. So I knocked one of the blues out, stole their robe, and am trying to find my sister. If I happen to blaze a trail for the knights to follow, well, then all the better.”

The redhead spluttered for a moment, as Margaret considered my words. “Wise. They’re only leaving us alone, because no one outside of the gray thinks these children have any real potential. That, and we made it difficult enough for them to get to this wing, they’ll have to actually work at it.”

“What about their magic? Couldn’t they just take apart your makeshift blockades?” I had little trust in the cobbled together barriers I had seen on the way.

“Yes. but they’re not the only ones with magic, now are they.” She tapped the side of her head next to her eye, bringing attention to the metal rimmed glass there. “I’ve laid enough traps for them to make it difficult. Even with magic. Camilla, stop that spluttering. This is the boy from the Gaudhaus family. He can be trusted. And by the look of him now, and the weapons he carries, he can be trusted with more than just my confidence.”

She scrutinized me carefully, peering at me through the glass. I felt the magic wash over me, a light tingle from head to toe. I smiled, and did the same back to her.

In an instant she lit up like a christmas tree. A riot of colors and meanings filled my vision, and I realized I couldn’t read it. There was just too much information there.

“Turn it off boy. It tickles. Impressive you’ve learned a spell already. Though from what I hear from the other gray, you’ve mastered more than simple aura reading. Dash is it?”

I nodded. “Among others.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Fathers blessings, child. You have them to be sure. Hopefully you have a bit of the mothers intuition as well. You’re far too free with that knowledge.”

I shrugged. “It was either use them in public, or get killed. There wasn’t another option. At this point, I doubt there’s anyone who doesn’t know I can do something dangerous. All I can do now, is keep them guessing as to what.”

Margaret nodded. “Again, wise. Beyond your years.” Her eyes narrowed at me even as her expression softened. “Mothers grace’s alright. Camilla, come tend to Timothy, he needs to finish feeding.” She handed the child off to Camilla, who took her place in the rocking chair. Though the young woman did give me a deadly glare. Margarat let me away from the group of falsely sleeping children out of easy earshot.

“You have no hope of taking on a trained knight, or a prepared wizard Landar. You need to know that. Should you encounter either, you must run.” I nodded in agreement. I didn’t intend to die, only to save my sister, and hopefully cause a little havoc for the Blues along the way.

“Will you show me how you got in?” I led her back up the stairs, and to the room where the second floor barrier was down and the window open. She stared out, and shook her head. “You are a gift child. Truely. I’ll signal the knights, and evacuate the children before I allow them to infiltrate further.”

“What if they just push past you?”

She smirked, and touched her eyeglass again. “I can be quite persuasive at times. As you’ve seen first hand. If I let you go in search of your sister, you have to do two things for me.”

“What?” I asked, as the silence between us dragged on.

Smirking, she explained. “First, you have to take off the robe. Anyone with half a brain and half as much experience can see it doesn’t fit you. It’ll only make you stand out more.”

Chuckling, I removed it and tossed it aside. “And?”

“And, you need to be safe. Your sister is important to you. That's only right. If she wasn’t, I would think something wrong with your soul. But it is better to have one parish, then two. Do you understand me?”

My blood ran cold, but it wasn’t a calculus I was unfamiliar with. I shook my head. “ I can’t promise that. Because if I stopped fighting just because I was scared? Well, that’s death already isn’t it?”

I didn’t mean to quote John Wayne. I really didn’t. But dang it just felt so, so right.

She shook her head sadly. “Do your best not to get killed then.”

“That, I can do.”

“Good. Then there’s something you need to know. Damion has been keeping those acolytes he deems as ‘special’, including your sister if I have any luck at guessing, in the main library. He’s using its protections to shield a ritual casting he’s prepared. I can feel it, pushing against the temple's magical matrix. It's . . . intense. Whatever he’s doing. You don’t have long to get your sister and everyone else you can clear, before he's finished.”

I nodded. “Anything else I should know?”

She smiled. “I’ll be sending the knights right on your heels. Move quick.”

***

She told me where I needed to go, even drew me a rough map. I moved through the empty halls of the orphanage’s third story until I came to the a small set of rooms connected by doors that opened from one bedroom to another. While the main hall was blocked by debris, and the glowing traps that Margaret has made visible to me, this path was clear.

It didn’t take long for me to move past the living quarters, and find the sky bridge that connected the orphanage to the main building. The hallway was empty, but the place had clear signs of fighting and ransacking. It had been looted, but by what group and for what I didn’t know.

In several places I found bodies, most had been dead for a while. It wasn’t until I came to a hallway that ran in a T intersection to the one I had been moving through, that I had to stop and reassess.

Where am I right now? I looked at the map, it was a crude thing, written on the back of a page ripped out of a book and drawn on with black splotchy ink. If I'm here, that means this hallway runs along the bottom rung of the terraces the nobles use during seventh day. Which means through that door . . .

I opened a massive ornate door directly in front of me. Other similar doors ran along the new hallway as it bent in a gentle circle going both directions. On the other side I found something I hadn’t expected.

Smoke billowed out of the door, and as it cleared I found a pile of dead stacked and lit aflame. If you’ve never smelled burnt human bodies, it's a gut wrenching smell. Nauseating and sweet, putrid and steaky, with a distinctly rancid tinge to everything. As if someone had shat on a perfectly cured pig over an open flame, and thought it would make for good seasoning.

The smell had been contained by whatever enchantment protected people from falling off the terrace, keeping the smell, and smoke inside. Luckily, it had also suffocated the fire. I walked past the corpses, with my nose and mouth covered as best I could by my shirt and sleeve, and looked out over the main chapel.

There were similar scenes to the one I was now party too on some of the terraces, but most were left empty and hollow. Below, there were dozens of blue robed older men and women casting spells, threatening prisoners, or trying to bar the chapel's two main doors.

A loud pounding boom rhythmically beat against the double doors, and cracks had already begun spreading through the wood and stone frame. Mages tried to reinforce the material, but it didn’t seem they were accomplishing much despite their efforts.

They’re trying to break in using a ram. Or maybe it's a distraction, while a strike force moves through behind me. Either way, those knights are coming in here sooner or later.

The prisoners were tied to the pews. Most were unconscious, kept that way by the blue’s spells. But some were awake, and the terror in their eyes light rage in my heart. My hands gripped my ax handles harder, and the wood creaked in protest.

Library, focus Landar. Focus.

I turned my back on the scene, knowing roughly where I was. I knew I had to get down one floor, and had at least three or four more corridors I had to traverse before I got to one of the entrances to the main library.

So I ran.

I did my best to avoid drawing attention to myself, but I had to move quickly. I found the stairs. They were switch backed, with small landings at the bottom of each set of ten steps. I jumped, landed, and turned to jump down the next.

My knees handled the first jump fine, but the second one sent a jarring numbness up one leg.

Damn it, alright fine. No more of that. I took the steps two at a time instead, and quickly found myself on the bottom floor where I needed to be.

“Hey! Who are you?!” Someone shouted, but I ignored them and took off at another run, straight for the library.

It's left here, right? I thought as I came to an intersection. The man who had yelled at me didn’t pursue. Yes, left.

I took the left, and found myself in front of the gray entrance to the shared main library. I put an ear to the door to listen, but couldn’t hear anything on the other side. After a few seconds trying to control my breathing, something shocked my ear.

“What the hell?” I rubbed at the offended ear lobe, and took a step back. “She said its defenses were up, right? Okay, so how do I get in?”

I looked up, and found what I was hoping would be there. Stain glass half circles sat above the door frame. They weren’t large enough for an adult to get through. But they were just big enough that I might have been able to.

First things first, I thought, as I looked around for something hard to throw. Really? It's in the middle of a battle, and I'm in the one hallway without some kind of debris? Sighing, I took off my boots. These’ll have to do.

The sound of shattering glass filled the hallway, and I ran for it. I dove behind the corner of the hallway just in time as the door opened and an angry looking knight, that practically radiated death and menace wearing black and green armor stepped into the hallway and looked around for the boot thrower.

“What is it?” I heard a voice as if from far away come from inside the library. It was nasally, and somewhat familiar.

After a long few moments where I barely allowed myself to breath, he growled back. “Nothing. Probably just those orphan brats from before. Why we haven't just killed them and ended they’re annoying little tricks is beyond me.”

“Because we don’t have time! Now get back in here, and take up your position so we can finish this!”

The knight sighed deeply, then closed the door behind him as he re-entered the library.

It didn’t take me long to take back my position directly in front of the door.

Let's hope that sound muffling works both ways, I thought as I heaved back my hatchet and thudded it into the wooden frame of the door. I pulled myself up then used my second ax higher up on the frame, and pulled again.

Retrieving the hatchet was difficult, but after a few seconds of wiggling, I got it free, and used it to pull myself even higher. Through the metal frame where the glass had once stood, I saw the central part of the library. It was an open atrium, and there were dozens of senior spell casters there, around an intricately drawn chalk circle and power thrummed between all of them.

I thought arcane spell casters couldn’t work together that easily, I thought as I watched curiously.

“Bring out three more acolytes.” Damion demanded from where he stood in the center of the circle, and where nearly all the magical energy was focused.

“There aren’t any fresh ones.” A woman with a beautiful face, and a cruel expression said. She stood in front of a study room on the far side of the library, under the awning of the second floor balcony.

“Then bring out the first crop again. They’ll have regenerated some mana by now. We need everything we can get to send this message to the capital district to inform them of the Dukes treachery.”

Treachery? What? Talk about projecting.

The woman opened the door, and someone inside began screaming. I used it as my opportunity and pulled myself through the window.