Midwinter

Meanwhile, Mauritane helped Satterly and Eloquet undress the dead guards. Raieve stripped unselfconsciously in front of them; she could not help, though, but glance at Mauritane while she pulled her leather leggings down over her calves. He was watching her. At least that was something.

Mauritane, Raieve, and Eloquet donned the guards' uniforms, leaving Satterly and Silverdun to guard the door. Silverdun would be able to keep the door magically locked for a while if there was trouble, and Satterly… Raieve supposed he could throw himself against the latch or something, if it came to that.

Mauritane had memorized the plans of the building. Their target was three flights up and they ran toward it, taking the steps two at a time. Sooner or later they would be discovered; every second counted.

They reached the top of the stairs safely. They exited the staircase, stepping into a whirlwind of activity where, dressed as guards, they were completely unnoticed. Scholars hurried past in the wide hallway, dodging each other as they consulted long scrolls, whispering to each other as they consulted enormous books resting on podiums along the length of the corridor. At the far end of the passage, an archway led into darkness; the only illumination beyond was sparse candlelight that flickered in ghoulish shadows on the walls.

"Is that it?" whispered Raieve.

"Yes," said Mauritane, in a normal speaking voice. He motioned upward with his chin, indicating that she should speak normally as well.

"Fine then," said Raieve, at full volume.

Eloquet touched the prayer beads beneath his tunic. "It's time," he said.

"Yes," said Mauritane.

They strode toward the darkened archway. One of the passing scholars, a pitifully thin man, noticed them approaching and moved to block their path. "You can't go in there," he hissed, annoyed. He held up a bony finger. "This is a critical time."

"Shut up." Eloquet shoved the tiny man sideways against the stone wall of the hall, where his skull struck with an ugly crack. Heads turned across the length of the corridor, watching as the scholar slumped against the wall.

"Aba forgive me," said Eloquet.

They drew their swords and ran through the archway. Candlelight danced on the faces of monsters. The sight was so unexpected that all three of them stopped short.

The things were arrayed in a wide circle, easily ten paces across, sitting nearly elbow to elbow. They were not Fae, at least not entirely. They had been mixed somehow with birds, it seemed, although the hybrid was neither beautiful nor graceful. Hideous, deformed wings grew all over their bodies; their tiny eyes gleamed from within enormous bald heads. Instead of mouths they had flopping black beaks that dripped with saliva and foam. When they noticed the intruders, their heads tipped back and some of them made quiet gurgling sounds.

"These are the masters of Elements and Motion?" said Eloquet, gasping in fear.

Mauritane caught himself first. He shoved Eloquet and Raieve into action. "Don't think. Move!"

Raieve went for the one closest to her and started slashing. The thing did not move to defend itself. It simply sat there, the bubbling noise coming from its throat. The force of Raieve's shocked thrust nearly cut the creature in two. It fell backward with a single, wet cry, dropping into a puddle of blood and tiny black feathers.

"What are these things?" she wondered aloud, sweeping her braids back with her free hand. "Are they Fae?" She stepped sideways and struck out at another one. Like the first, it did nothing to save itself.

"They're bred magically with eagles," said Mauritane evenly. "It improves their inner sight. That is how they move the city through space." His sword twirled in his hands, felling one after the other of the creatures, all of whom succumbed with nothing more than a plaintive wail.

Raieve looked out toward the archway. The scholars stood at the threshold, horrified. Some of them covered their mouths with their hands. Raieve couldn't help herself. She smiled at them, licking her lips. One of them fell over sideways.

A few moments later, all of the bird-things were dead or dying, their blood beginning to puddle on the floor. As the last one fell, the room seemed to dip and sway, like a seagoing vessel cresting a giant wave.

"Let's go!" shouted Mauritane. He barreled toward the door. The scholars, already petrified, fell back at his approach.

They reached the door to the stairwell just as it burst open. Silverdun backed out of the doorway, followed quickly by Satterly. The stairwell was teeming with guardsmen in chain mail. They carried vicious-looking curved swords and thin daggers.

"How many?" shouted Mauritane, slamming the door shut before any of the guards could reach it.

"I didn't stop to count," said Silverdun, drawing his sword now that he had room. "I'd guess a dozen. More coming. Held them off as long as I could."

"You did well, Silverdun."

"I'm scared all to piss," Silverdun said.

"So am I," said Mauritane.

The door crashed open again.