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Lightning hugged arms around his waist and squeezed his eyes shut in agony. I crouched and laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him around because he was drifting and talking to himself. “They killed her. Her schemes were useless…I don’t know what they’ll do next.”

He could not fight in this condition, and the rotunda gave sparse cover. Lightning knew this and made a tremendous effort. He nocked his last arrow and eased his short sword loose in its scabbard though it took all his mettle to lift it.

“Wait and gather your strength,” I said.

He nodded. “Yes. I’ll try to make my way back to Rayne…I’ll meet you at the Petrel.” He sighed, chin on his chest. He was thinking about Mist; the reality hitting him was as incapacitating as the wound. “You and Serein must persevere. Kill Gio, for Ata…for me. You are Eszai and that is your purpose.”

He looked so ill that I didn’t want him to tangle with any more rebels. “Don’t stay here, those bastards will come up. Go all the way to the end of Fifth Street before you turn down to the harbor. The roads are quieter at the edge of town. Saker, I really think-”

He spoke through gritted teeth. “‘Saker, I really think’ nothing. Into the air and stop this fight!”

He watched me pick up two jewel-encrusted pieces of plaster, one in each hand. I ran to take off.

I dived at Gio and dumped both bricks on him. They hit him, one on his towhead, one on his forearm, and he reeled. Wre

Gio’s neat last-minute parry saved him-the rapiers clanged hilt to hilt. Their blades bound, they wrestled. Gio kicked Wre

“Shoot him!” Gio bellowed at a crossbowman. “Shoot him, someone, why don’t you?”

In return Wre

A bruiser of a man offered his rapier to Gio. Gio fluidly slipped his dagger into his belt and snatched the sword from the man’s fist. He leveled both rapiers at Wre

Instantly at a disadvantage, Wre

I circled above Wre

It’s over, I thought; but Wre

Gio hunched; about a meter of bright steel projected from his back. A red patch darkened his coat around it. Wre

Gio lay curled up. He coughed around the blade. Blood sprang from his mouth onto the pavement, dribbled from his lips. He didn’t breathe in again. Died.

Awndyn soldiers rushed to Wre

Wre

I picked up a sheaf of arrows and a bottle of water, and my horn that I sound to give commands on the battlefield. I flew back to Fifth Street and landed near Lightning. He looked exhausted but grateful as I sprinted past, called, “Gio’s dead!” dumped the ammunition and bottle while still ru

I swept low over the rebels and shouted, “Gio has fallen; give yourselves up!”

The whole front of the column who had seen the duel, and several more, especially the girls, surrendered to the Awndyn Fyrd. The rear dissolved, rebels becoming looters or fugitives. Many became disoriented and I saw them ru

There was a tangible atmosphere of possibility and menace. Instantly the five hundred rebels in the main street acted as if they were a single being, powerful, euphoric with it, and mad. I sensed their vigor and my pulse raced. Anything could happen; everything was happening-the riot obeyed no laws at all. The youths were at home with it; it was their atmosphere. They ran in large ragged groups. They all thought: why not take the wealth that surrounds us, in an abundance we’ve never been allowed before? The strength of individuals was nothing compared with the violence of the crowd-they tore the shopfronts apart. They were bent on spending everything in the town in one hysterical surge. They brought out bakers’ trolleys and smashed them into caryatid statues. They infected each other to screaming pitch rejoicing at their own bodies’ force, their freedom and their sudden riches. No future prospects Capharnaum could offer them were as good as the fun they could have trashing it. From the air I saw a mass of people sweeping away from the boulevard. They spiraled around ransacked shops like the eye of a storm.

The burning crag’s jumping u

Bricks were hurled against the houses’ upper windows, and when a Capharnai man leaned out and shouted, they threw bricks at his face. The pirates gathered cutlery and amphorae but discarded them when gold gleamed. So much gold, it was like the Castle’s treasury. They hastily lashed together enormous packs of objects with their belts. When each had plundered all he could carry, he set off to the Pavonine leaving wailing and raging Capharnai families behind them.

Some Capharnai defended themselves. A group of fishermen threw a huge weighted net over thieves escaping from a house. As they struggled under it, the fishermen stabbed them with marlin-spikes and tridents that sloughed dried white scales.

A group of Trisian lads came out of one house carrying sacks to loot food, kicking the door of a restaurant. Thick olive-oil smoke ribboned from its cellar grating. Little fires had been kindled at irregular intervals on the boulevard. The rioters set alight waste bins and chairs; I could see no reason why, apart from the lust to cause as much havoc as possible. I yelled, “Stop destroying this wonderful town!” The ones that heard me started laughing.