Page 28 of The Tainted Cup

The rain hammered on us, on and on, pelting our scalps and the puddles at our feet.

“If it’s a breach,” I said, “we’d see the beacon.” I felt a fluttering in my eyes and summoned a map of the region I’d glanced at once. I pointed into a stretch of darkness. “It’d be there.”

More flickers of light, more crackles of bombard. We stood on the earthworks listening to the whole of Daretana awaken, the distant orders shouted and screamed, the cry of horses, the slamming of many doors.

And then it appeared, glimmering in the darkness: a single, narrow lick of fluttering yellow flame.

“Beacon’s up,” I said hoarsely. “A titan’s made it past the walls…”

Then someone started screaming: “It’s a breach! Breach, breach, it’s a breach!”

The whole world fell to chaos then. The tocsin bells started ringing out, a skull-clatteringclang-clang.People struggled to light torches or get their mai-lanterns glowing. The engravers among us proved helpful: we remembered the policy for this, where to go and what to do, and soon we had all the other Sublimes and troops and anyone available mustering in the fields north of Daretana, waiting in the pouring rain.

The waiting seemed to go on and on. I heard whispers in the rain, perhaps sobs. I glanced at one Sublime’s tall, perfect posture and saw his eyes were shut tight and he’d bitten his lip so hard he bled.

Then a commander of the Legion finally arrived—you could see the shine of his crested helm beneath the glow of a lantern—and the senior officers distributed orders: all Engineering and Legion officers were to pack up and move out south for Talagray immediately. Allother soldiers were to help them pack as best they could, then stay behind and prep Daretana for immediate evacuation if needed.

What followed was mad, muddy chaos. The baggage train came rumbling into town and we all swarmed the roads, helping to heave sacks and trunks up onto the towering carts, grabbing gear from Engineers or Legionnaires as they hurried to arrange their personal packs. It was strange to see us all so transformed, so hurried and grim, rushing to prepare these people—acquaintances, friends, lovers, enemies, strangers—to venture out into the darkness and face the unknown. I looked for friends of my own from my first days in Sublime training, but the rain and the half light and the whirl of shouted words made identifying anyone impossible.

Then it was over. We never felt like we finished, but someone told us to stop. We withdrew to the side of the road and watched. Then in the flickering light of the torches, the Engineers and Legionnaires trooped out, this tremendous ribbon of horses and baggage and soaking people, their helmets and caps and armor glinting in the occasional flash of lightning.

We watched them go in silence. Someone shouted something, some order, but I just stood there. How shattering it felt to realize that the order of all our lives could be dashed to pieces in a few frenzied moments by the rumblings in the east.

Then I felt a hand on my arm, its fingers digging into my flesh, and I spun to find the snarling, soaking face of Captain Thalamis.

“Did you hear me, you half-brained idiot?” he bellowed. “Get to your assignment now in case we need to evacuate!” He shoved me, hard, and I slipped backward in the mud. “Inyourcase, it means your addle-brained bitch of an investigator! Go!”

I felt my blood flash hot then, and I stood up. He saw the look on my face and tapped the hilt of his sword at his side. “Try it, fool. It’ll be faster than failing you out, at least.”

I watched him for a moment. Then I turned and trudged away in the rain.

“I thought so!” he called afterme.

—

BY THE TIMEI made it to Ana’s house the rain had dwindled to a soft patter. I didn’t bother knocking, indifferent to what state she was in: I just barged in, fuming and soaking.

“Hello, Din,” she called from the meeting room.

I plodded through the house and found her kneeling before her quake contraption, which was chiming and clanking like mad. It was dark within, and I found her mai-lantern and gave it a shake. The little glowing worms within awoke, and their faint blue light slowly filtered throughout the room.

“Ma’am,” I said dully. “There’s been a breach. We need to get you prepared in case we need to evacuate.”

“Thank you, Din,” she said softly. “I had gathered as such. But there should be no need for an evacuation.”

“What do you mean, ma’am?”

“I have been monitoring the quakes since they began,” she said. She nodded to her contraption. “They’ve grown steadily quieter over the last hour. This indicates that the leviathan has retreated, probably farther to the south, back to the sea walls.” She looked up at me, still blindfolded. “It’s what they were trained to do.”

“Who?”

“The Legion,” she said. “They have armaments capable of distracting the leviathans, drawing them away from the cities and towns, and back to the walls—where all the bombards await. They plan to shoot it to death there, I imagine.” She took off her blindfold and looked up at me. She must have seen the terror and fury in my face, because she tried to smile, and asked, “Why don’t you make me some tea, Din?”

“Pardon, ma’am?” I asked faintly. “Tea?”

“Yes. You make such a good pot of tea, Din. I think that would be quite welcome now.”

I went through the motions thoughtlessly, starting the little fire in her stove, setting the kettle to boil atop it. I pulled pinches of dried leaves from the cotton sacks hanging above, moistened them with afew drops of water, and then carefully ground them in the mortar with slow, twisting movements. As the kettle shrieked, I took a few leaves of mint, broke them apart, and added them to the mix, before packing it all into the infuser, which I slotted into the kettle’s spout. Then I poured two cups and the air filled with a powerful, complex aroma.