Chapter 5

Even where Soren was hidden below in that small, dark room, he could hear the warning sirens. Pushing himself to his feet, he peered up at the ceiling, seeing nothing in the darkness but more than able to imagine what was going on above.

The House of Kimathi's ancestral estate, and perhaps Bellingham itself, was under attack.

He looked at the door to his prison, the outline limned faintly with light from beyond. He knew where the lock was, knew even with the spells to dampen magic surrounding him that he could melt it off if it wasn't Lore's life keeping him imprisoned. Still, an attack on the city could mean Vanya's forces had finally reached the walls. It could mean rescue was at hand, if Vanya even knew where to look for him.

Soren couldn't count on that. Vesper had been incredibly adept at getting them out of Calhames without anyone noticing, all her lies and the veil she'd worn weaving an illusion of travel for members of the Star Order.

And here he was, trapped once again beneath a Star Temple, in a room that reminded him much of the iron coffin he'd once been welded shut inside. If Bellingham was being attacked, Soren didn't want to be trapped in a corner and killed like a wild beast. But if he tried to leave and was found out, then he risked Lore dying because of him.

Soren crossed the scant space to the door, pressing his ear to the cool metal and listening hard for any sound on the other side. He heard nothing, but that didn't mean no one wasn't out there. A guard had always been present in the basement outside his cell the few times Joelle had deigned to let him out to see Lore in that room above. Lore had never been awake during those visits, always pale and sleeping from drugs, poison a mere hairsbreadth from her veins.

He shifted, pressing his forehead against the metal, and closed his eyes. It'd been hours since his last meal, and he hadn't drunk as much of the drugged water this time, tired and disoriented from being shut away in the dark. Soren couldn't guarantee Lore would still be up there if he got out. He didn't know if Joelle kept Lore elsewhere in between those times he'd been allowed to see her. If he escaped and she wasn't there, she'd die for his efforts before he ever even found her.

Another distant, keening note from the warning sirens filtered down to his ear. Soren frowned, pulling back to stare at the door and weighing his options. Break out and hope to find Lore alive or break out and be responsible for her death. If it was truly the Legion trying to tear down Bellingham's walls, Soren knew he couldn't stay there in the dark and wait to be rescued.

Choice made, he moved his hand and reached for the aether through the thick miasma of spells wrapped around the room. If he'd been a typical magician, wand or no wand, he wouldn't be able to summon anything in the face of the precautions Joelle had set upon him. But starfire was a different beast of power altogether, and Soren clawed it forth from the aether with a determination that left him sweating.

Starfire sparked in his hand, the tiny curl of flame molten bright, forcing him to turn his head aside and blink watering eyes. His vision wasn't used to such brightness, and it hurt, but Soren worked through the pain. He kept his ear pressed to the door, straining to hear anything beyond it as he used starfire to melt the lock clean off the door, his efforts warping the handle as well. He didn't hear anyone move or call out in the basement beyond, making him think the warning sirens had drawn his guards to the surface.

He hoped so.

Soren let the starfire die away except for a spark, the light it gave off enough for him to see the knob. He balanced on one leg, raising his other to use his boot to shove at the door next to the knob. Damaged and warped as it was from the heat in that area, the door opened easily enough on hinges that didn't squeak. He tensed, but none of the spells meant to dampen magic barred his way. Soren let his starfire die and quickly moved to the side of the doorframe, nudging the door open wider with his foot.

When he spared a quick glance around the doorframe, he saw the basement beyond was empty. A lone gas lamp in a sconce burned, but most of the light he could see came from the open entryway above the stairs that led to the star temple.

Soren stepped out of the cell, knowing he had little time to make it to Lore before he was found out. He didn't know what was happening in the estate, but staying put wasn't an option any longer.

He crept toward the stairs, wishing for his pistols or even his poison short sword. But those had been abandoned in Calhames, and all he had was starfire, a type of magic he'd spent most of his life denying.

There in a star temple, in enemy territory, he no longer denied what he'd been born to.

Soren crept up the stairs, starfire curling around the fingers of both hands as he focused on the star temple above. He couldn't hear any voices, but that didn't mean the prayer space would be empty.

The warning sirens hadn't been switched off, and they rang in his ears as he crouched near the top of the entrance. Soren hid the glow of starfire in his fist as he peered over the edge of the underground entrance, getting eyes on the interior of the star temple. He saw no one in the immediate vicinity, nor could he hear any voices over the warning sirens that echoed through the air. The soldiers tasked with guarding him must have been summoned away, and the only reason Soren could see that happening was an attack on the House of Kimathi's estate.

Which meant he had to move quickly.

Soren hurried the rest of the way up, staying crouched low as he ducked behind the benches, trying to stay hidden. Keeping an ear out for any voices or footsteps, Soren made his way across the star temple to the side room he remembered Lore being held in, hoping she was still there. He paused at the entrance to the narrow hallway leading to it, voices finally reaching his ears.

"We shouldn't be traveling when the Legion is bombing the city," a woman said frantically.

"We do as the vezir orders," a man grunted.

"We can't do our duty if all of us are dead!"

"Our orders are to move the prisoners to the Imperial estate for the time being. A motor carriage will be brought around shortly to transport them. Your duty will be to ensure the lady doesn't wake up."

"Do you realize how delicate the state she is in? Keeping her unconscious requires a continuous application of drugs in a precise dosage at exact intervals. Moving her will disrupt the administration of everything."

"You're an alchemist. It's your job to make sure she doesn't wake up."

Soren canted his head a little, wondering if there were more than two people in the hallway and where everyone else might be. If the star temple here was like the one Vanya's House used, then it most likely wasn't fully staffed. The guards might have been momentarily pulled for the defense of the estate, or they were still on duty somewhere he couldn't see. Either way, Soren couldn't risk standing around doing nothing, not if Joelle was planning on leaving her estate to hide somewhere else.

Soren flexed his hands, pulling magic from the aether to power his starfire from a spark to a firestorm as he stepped into the entryway to the hall.

The soldier and the star priestess—the same woman who'd sat beside Lore the few times Soren had been allowed to see her—jerked around as the brightness burned away the shadows in the hallway. Soren didn't give them a chance to speak. He cast starfire at them with brutal intent, leaving no inch of them uncovered from the searing, deadly heat.

They died before their bodies even hit the ground, air burned to nothing in their lungs and bodies scorched down to their bones. Soren got rid of the starfire, but he couldn't get rid of the way the hall smelled like a crematorium. Breathing through his mouth, Soren stepped over the pair of charred husks and hurried toward the side room where Lore was kept, hoping no one else was in the room with her. The door wasn't locked, and he twisted the knob, shouldering it open.

The room was empty save for the table Lore lay on, pale and unmoving, still hooked up to that horrible machine, the tubing that held the poison clamped off. Soren didn't breathe a sigh of relief until he'd slid the needles out of her veins, the sedative dripping onto the floor and the poison useless as a shackle to them both. He leaned over Lore, pressing his fingers to the side of her neck to get her pulse—steady but slow. He didn't have his field gear to test what sort of drugs that star priestess who knew alchemy had used on Lore, and neither was he a healer. He'd have to wait until it all flushed out of her body naturally and hope she woke up from it on her own.

Hauling her unconscious form around while he himself had no weapons wouldn't help either of them. Soren chewed on his bottom lip, thinking about his options. While he could burn his way out of the estate, they'd be on the run in a city whose loyalty lay with their vezir and not Solaria's emperor.

Swearing softly, Soren dug around in the cupboards of the room. One bay was filled entirely with vials of chemicals the star priestess he'd killed must have been using to keep Lore under. Drawers were filled with prayer candles and matches, while the other set of cupboards held stacks of fabric. He pulled one free, shaking it out, relieved to see it was what he'd been searching for.

The robe was one of the generic ones used by acolytes in the star temple. It lacked the fitted extravagance of a star priest's robe, but that was fine by Soren. It would hide the uniform he wore, identifying him as a warden by sight. Shrugging it on, Soren did up the buttons, grimacing at how wide the sleeves were and how flowing the rest of it was. It would be easy to get it caught on something, and he'd have to be mindful of that. What he really wanted was a pistol or two, a knife, something that he could defend them with that wasn't starfire. For now, he'd have to do without.

He took a couple of vials out of the cupboard and pocketed them, hoping he'd have time later to figure out what had been used on Lore. Soren turned back to the table, easing Lore's limp body into his arms, concerned at how light she was. She looked and felt thinner than she'd been at Calhames, whatever they'd used to keep her unconscious having taken a toll on her body.

"We're getting out of here," Soren grunted, not caring that she couldn't hear him. He couldn't know if the woman he'd killed had spoken the truth—that the Legion had finally broken through Joelle's defense. He wanted to believe it, but in order to get out of Bellingham, he had to assume everyone was the enemy.

The soldier he'd killed had said a motor carriage was being brought around to transport them out of the estate. All Soren needed was a chance to commandeer it and find some way outside the city walls. The poison fields in the vasilyet surrounding Bellingham were a risk filled with encroaching front lines of battles and too many revenants, but they risked far more if they stayed.

Soren walked through the star temple as if he belonged, carrying Lore in his arms, head held high, gazing straight ahead. No one had appeared when he'd used starfire earlier, which was concerning in a way. He'd have thought more security would've been present, but perhaps the attack on the city was drawing everyone away.

And then he made it outside, where the motor carriage waited, and found the soldier meant to drive it on the ground with two revenants digging through his guts.

No wonder the star temple had been empty.

Soren immediately hiked Lore over his shoulder to free up one hand, keeping her in place with an arm pressed against the back of her thighs. He raised his right arm, calling forth starfire without any degree of finesse, opting for brute power over anything else as the revenants staggered away from the body toward fresh prey.

The dead caught fire, dried-up husks of bodies nothing more than kindling to Soren's starfire. They went up in flames like a lit pump at a way station. The revenants crumbled in seconds, falling to the flagstone path, nothing but ash. Soren put out the starfire, glad the breeze he'd felt for the first time in weeks was too sluggish to really lift the ash and spread it. He didn't have a gas mask for either himself or Lore, and spores were always a threat.

Grimacing, Soren hurried toward the motor carriage, the rumble of its engine almost too loud in the air between the rise and fall of the warning sirens. The star temple faced the House of Kimathi ancestral estate, and the revenants would've been like beacons as they burned to anyone who would be watching.

Which meant they had to leave.

And fast.

Soren maneuvered Lore into the back seat of the motor carriage, laying her across it and using two of the lap belts to secure her as best he could. He closed the door before turning his attention to the bloody mess of the dead soldier. Soren crouched near the body, the torn uniform useless to him, but the pistol still clutched in the dead soldier's hand was something he could use.

Soren took the pistol, the extra ammunition he found in a belt pouch, and a small serrated knife tucked in the soldier's boot. None of the weapons were the type issued by wardens, but they were better than nothing. He opened the barrel and reloaded it before snapping it back into place, the gears clicking away without issue. Soren tucked the knife into his own boot, clipped the pouch to his own belt beneath the robe he still wore, and straightened up with the pistol in hand.

He returned to the motor carriage and opened the driver's-side door—and had to immediately duck behind it as bullets peppered the air around him and the motor carriage.

Soren cursed, priming the pistol and eyeing the holes in the glass windows of the motor carriage. The angle meant he had the frame of the motor carriage between him and whoever was shooting, but Lore was in the back seat, and he couldn't see if she'd been hit or not.

"I've been told you're quite a thorn in my queen's side," a voice called out in heavily accented Solarian. "It seems we should have murdered you first."

Queen had to mean Eimarille, not Joelle, and Soren spared half a thought to wonder if the vezir was even alive anymore. He crouched lower, peering beneath the undercarriage at the three pairs of legs he could see walking toward him down the stone pathway. "Who are you?"

"Believers."

"More like fanatics."

They had to be Blades, which meant the attack on the estate was Eimarille's doing, even if the rest of Bellingham was the Legion's. Soren dropped flat to the ground at the next volley of gunfire, stretching his arm out beneath the motor carriage. He splayed his fingers wide, pushing starfire at the enemy in a ribbon of flame that turned into a wall of heat on the other side of the motor carriage. It forced them to quit shooting and change tactics.

Soren scrambled to his feet, pistol in hand and searching for a target. He kept the wall of starfire burning, knowing it was the best defense he had to keep Lore safe. Movement out of the corner of his eyes had him reacting without thinking, arm swinging around as he aimed and fired in seconds at the man coming around behind him past the edge of starfire.

They wore Solarian robes to blend in, but he doubted they were Solarian. With the way the man moved—speed Soren attributed to an assassin—they could only be Blades. Soren only had so many bullets to spare, and when his first two didn't find their target, he sent the wall of starfire streaking after the Blade. It moved like a snake in prairie grass, a threat the Blade couldn't escape. The starfire swallowed him up whole in a column of flame, his scream a sharp-pitched thing that rang louder than the warning sirens for a brief moment.

Soren turned his attention to the remaining two Blades, not bothering with bullets, instead leaning into his birthright. He didn't have to hide it any longer, and it was the one weapon that could save them, even if it was something a warden should never have. He manipulated the starfire into something that might resemble a wildfire there in the estate. It flared like an explosion before dying down, leaving behind charred plants, scorched stone, and a target for any other soldiers to aim at.

The Blades were nothing but ash in the aftermath, and that was all Soren cared about. His head throbbed from casting starfire, and he couldn't tell if it was because he'd overextended himself after being drugged for so long or if he just didn't have the stamina yet. But he hadn't passed out like he had after that time in the quarry, which meant he could still drive them out of the estate. Getting past the walls was going to be a different problem entirely.

Soren stared down at his hand and the starfire that curled around his fingers like a living thing. In most countries on Maricol, it was a sign of royalty. For Soren, it was nothing but a tool now, and he'd use it however he could to make it back to Vanya.

If he had to burn a city down to escape, then so be it.

Soren breathed out to center himself before letting the starfire fade away. He returned to the motor carriage, where Lore remained unconscious and unharmed from the firefight in the back seat. Getting in the driver's seat, the engine still running, Soren set his pistol beside him on the front bench and undid the brakes.

"I'm coming home, Vanya," Soren murmured as he stepped on the gas pedal and drove forward into a city still under attack, the warning sirens a constant drone in his ears.