A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) - Sabaa Tahir Page 0,83

Place right now,” Musa says.

“What the ten hells is he doing so far—”

“Skies know, Shrike,” Musa says. “A wight brought me the information yesterday. I haven’t had a chance to send her back for details.” He levels a reproachful look at me. “Been a bit busy.”

“We can still pull back,” Harper says. “Get a message to Quin and Dex. Wait for a more opportune time to strike.”

“Gather the men,” I tell him, for there is no better time. I lost Antium. I let the Karkauns win. And Keris used my failure to steal the Empire from my nephew. I have to get it back for him. And I have to get it back for the people still suffering behind its walls.

When the men have gathered, I raise my hand for silence. They watch me with a flat sort of curiosity, even the Ankanese sappers, silent on the edges of the crowd.

“Tonight,” I say, “the Karkauns believe they will defeat us.”

The men hiss and spit, their rage as sharp as my own.

“They think they can turn our city into a butchering ground. They think their violence will frighten us. But we are Martials. And we fear nothing.

“Nearly every last one of you was in Antium. You saw what they did. You know what they’ve been doing since then. So I tell you now, no matter what happens behind those walls, no matter what horrors they have in store, there is no going back today. We will win, or we will die. We will take back our city for our people, or we will watch the Empire fall. Now. Tonight.” I put my fist to my heart. “Loyal to the end.”

They do not roar their support, for secrecy is our advantage this night. Instead, they thump their fists to their hearts once.

Then we are moving through the hills and down into the flats of the city, away from our mounts and the dozen men left to guard them. The cold drags at me, and my eyelashes frost over. But after a few minutes of running, I don’t notice it anymore. By the time we take out the Karkaun sentries, my cheeks are flushed, my fingers tingling.

We make for the northern wall, shrouded by thick, old-growth forest. Within is a door, boarded over, collapsed and forgotten behind a ton of rubble.

There, an Ankanese sapper named G’rus begins rigging the door with charges. His four comrades disappear, each escorted by a Mask. Four more of the Ankanese travel with Quin Veturius. We will see if they prove their worth this night.

Harper appears out of the darkness, a grappling hook in hand. “Soldiers,” he whispers. “Atop the wall, and headed this way.”

Moments later, voices carry down. There weren’t supposed to be soldiers near this side of the wall. According to my spies, it’s thinly patrolled.

A scream from deep within the city pierces the night, high and chilling. My men shift uneasily, and I grab the grappling hook from Avitas and march down the wall, far enough from the Karkauns that they won’t hear the hook land.

I cast it up, and when it takes, I’m moving up the wall, hand over hand, even as Harper hisses quiet protests beneath me.

Once at the top, I survey the two Karkauns. They are of medium height and build, like most of their people, with long, matted hair and skin as pale as mine. Their thick furs obscure both vision and sound, and before they notice me, I am upon them. The first manages a small yelp before I part his head from his body. The second draws his weapon—just in time for me to take it and stab him in the throat.

I drag the bodies to the side of the wall, throw them over in case any other Karkauns come searching for them, and rappel back down.

“That,” says Harper, his jaw set, “was foolish.”

“That was necessary,” I said. “Are we nearly ready?”

G’rus gestures for everyone to take cover as he lights the fuse. Moments later, a deafening boom tears through the air. It is followed by another boom moments later, farther down the wall, and then two more. Decoy explosions. They are larger, and closer to the center of the city. By the time the Karkauns ensure there are no intruders at those spots, we’ll be long gone.

“Shrike?” a soft voice calls through the dust and rubble, and a figure emerges out of the darkness. She is lean, with dark skin and curly hair. Neera, the woman who helped