Against The World

Westmere Hold woke angry.

Stone groaned beneath my hands.

Water surged around my ankles, rushing through the lower cells with enough force to knock loose bowls and blankets across the floor. The prisoners crowded together while Captain Edric and his guards formed a line between them and the soldiers advancing down the corridor.

I ignored the soldiers.

The water was the greater threat.

It had entered through three channels buried behind the eastern wall. All of them connected to a reservoir somewhere above us. Harwick’s mage had opened the old floodgates, but the system had not been designed to drown prisoners.

It had been designed to stop fires.

Harwick had taken something meant to protect his home and turned it into a weapon against the people living inside it.

That seemed to be a pattern.

I followed the channels with my awareness.

The mechanism controlling them was old, damaged, and currently being forced in a direction it had never been meant to move.

I pushed back.

The wall shuddered.

A crack appeared above my head.

“That looks concerning,” Mary said.

“It is only a small crack.”

A second crack spread beside it.

Melody looked up.

“It is getting bigger.”

“I noticed.”

The approaching soldiers raised crossbows.

“Down!” Alistair shouted.

Bolts filled the corridor.

I lifted one hand.

Air struck them from the side.

Most clattered harmlessly against the wall. One continued toward Captain Edric before Evelyn cut it out of the air.

Melody stared at her.

“You can do that?”

Evelyn lowered her sword.

“I have practiced.”

“We should practice together.”

“Later,” Mary said.

“Right. Flooding.”

Water reached my shins.

The prisoners were becoming frightened. Some pressed against the back wall. Others searched for anything they could use as a weapon.

The soldiers reloaded.

Captain Edric stepped forward.

“Stand down!”

The advancing men hesitated.

Their commander did not.

“Captain Vale, you are relieved of duty by order of Lord Harwick.”

“Harwick is flooding cells containing unarmed prisoners.”

“They are traitors.”

“There are servants on this level.”

The commander’s expression did not change.

“They were warned to evacuate.”

Captain Edric glanced at me.

That answer told us everything.

Harwick knew exactly what he was doing.

I returned my attention to the channels.

Stopping the water at the floodgates would require fighting the mage controlling them. I could feel his power pressing through the stone—precise, practiced, and completely unfamiliar.

I had strength.

He had experience.

So I stopped trying to beat him at the gates.

Instead, I searched for somewhere else to send the water.

The old system spread beneath the entire citadel. Drainage channels connected the kitchens, courtyards, stables, cisterns, and outer walls. Most had been blocked over the years. Some had collapsed.

One remained open.

It led beneath the western battlement and emptied over the cliff.

I widened it.

Stone resisted.

Not because it opposed me.

Because several tons of the citadel rested above it.

“Of course,” I muttered.

“What?” Mary asked.

“The useful drain is underneath a wall.”

“Can you open it?”

“Yes.”

“Without collapsing the wall?”

I paused.

“Probably.”

“That was not convincing.”

“It was the best answer I had.”

The soldiers lifted their crossbows again.

This time Melody did not wait.

She crossed the corridor before they could fire.

One moment she stood beside us.

The next, she struck the commander’s crossbow upward. The bolt buried itself in the ceiling. She turned, drove her elbow into a second soldier’s chest, and swept the feet from beneath a third.

Alistair charged after her.

Evelyn followed.

Captain Edric looked at his men.

“Protect the prisoners.”

The three guards who carried the Crown moved immediately.

The others hesitated.

Then two joined them.

The last picked up his sword from the table.

For a moment, I thought he intended to attack.

He stepped beside Captain Edric instead.

That was enough.

I focused on the drain.

The hammer appeared in my right hand.

Frost spread across its surface.

I pressed the head against the wall and let cold sink into the stone. Water froze inside the blocked channel, expanding into its cracks.

The wall groaned again.

Mary looked at it.

“Uriah.”

“I know.”

The ice widened.

Mortar crumbled.

I changed my grip and struck once.

The sound traveled through the entire lower citadel.

A section of stone broke inward.

Water vanished through the opening with enough force to drag a wooden bench across the floor.

I caught the bench before it struck anyone.

The water level began falling.

“That worked,” Peter said from behind me.

I stared at the new hole.

“It did.”

Mary gave me a suspicious look.

“Were you surprised?”

“No.”

The damaged wall shifted.

I placed both hands against it and forced the surrounding stones together before the weight above us could settle. Cracks closed. Loose blocks returned to place. The new drainage opening remained.

Far beneath us, water poured over the western cliff.

The pressure from the other mage disappeared.

Not gradually.

It stopped all at once.

I nearly fell forward.

Mary caught my arm.

“What happened?”

“He let go.”

“Why?”

A deep boom shook the corridor.

Then another.

The soldiers fighting Melody and Alistair went still.

The sound had come from above.

A horn followed.

Three long notes.

Captain Edric turned toward the stairwell.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“An attack on the outer gate.”

Evelyn’s face hardened.

“Berrin.”

“I thought he was Harwick’s ally.”

“He was.”

Another impact shook the citadel.

Dust fell around us.

Evelyn looked toward the ceiling.

“He has decided Harwick is weak.”

“That was fast.”

“Men like Berrin rarely confuse loyalty with patience.”

The commander Melody had disarmed scrambled backward.

“You brought him here.”

“I have never met him,” I said.

“You weakened Westmere!”

“Harwick sent most of his army to Greykeep.”

The man stopped.

I pointed toward the water draining from the cells.

“He also attempted to drown his own servants, prisoners, and guards. If Lord Berrin believes Westmere is vulnerable, Harwick did most of the work.”

A third impact sounded.

The soldiers exchanged nervous looks.

They had been ordered to stop us.

Now someone outside was attempting to break into their home.

I dismissed the hammer.

“We are going upstairs.”

Mary glanced toward the prisoners.

“What about them?”

“Captain Edric, can you get everyone to the transit gate?”

“If the lower western passage is clear.”

“It should be.”

“Should?”

“I have not inspected it personally.”

He accepted that with more calm than Mary did.

I handed him Thomas’s keys.

“Take the prisoners and any servants you find. The gate will return you to Greykeep.”

Peter caught my sleeve.

“You are not coming?”

“Later.”

“Harwick will kill you.”

Melody returned while cleaning her sword with a strip of cloth.

“He can try.”

Mary looked at the soldiers we had fought.

None were dead.

Several would have unpleasant bruises.

The commander held one arm against his chest and stared at Melody with considerably more respect than before.

I faced him.

“You can remain here and guard empty cells, or you can help defend the people above us.”

“He ordered us to arrest you.”

“Yes.”

“And you would trust us near your back?”

“No.”

He blinked.

“I still barely trust Thomas.”

“Who is Thomas?” Melody asked.

“The man who gave us the keys.”

“I trust Thomas.”

“Of course you do.”

I turned toward the stairs.

“Captain Edric, get everyone out.”

He struck one fist against his chest.

“Yes, my king.”

I stopped.

The words echoed through the guard station.

His men heard them.

The prisoners heard them.

So did Harwick’s soldiers.

I had no time to decide how I felt about that.

We climbed.

The citadel had changed.

Servants ran through the halls carrying buckets, bandages, and weapons. Soldiers rushed toward the eastern gate. Bells sounded from every tower.

No one tried to stop us.

Some recognized me.

The Crown appeared on their palms as I passed.

Not everyone welcomed it.

One woman gasped and hid her hand inside her apron. A young soldier stared at his symbol with tears in his eyes. An older servant pressed his glowing palm to his chest and bowed his head.

The Crown did not make them loyal.

It reminded them they belonged.

That was enough to frighten Harwick.

We reached the eastern courtyard.

Chaos waited there.

Lord Berrin’s soldiers had crossed the outer bridge and were forcing Harwick’s defenders back from the gatehouse. They wore red cloaks and carried shields marked with a white boar.

There were more than three hundred of them.

Westmere had fewer than one hundred defenders in the courtyard.

Men fought across the walls. Arrows passed overhead. A section of the gate burned.

At the top of the keep stairs stood Lord Harwick.

I recognized him immediately.

He wore polished black armor beneath a heavy fur-lined cloak. His gray hair was cut short, and a narrow scar crossed his chin. He held no weapon.

A thin man in blue robes stood beside him.

The mage.

Harwick saw me.

For one brief moment, his expression broke.

Shock.

Then fear.

Then anger covered both.

“You.”

“Me.”

The mage raised his staff.

I raised the stone beneath his feet.

He fell over.

Melody laughed.

“That was easier than expected.”

The mage rolled and sent a wave of force across the courtyard.

I planted my feet.

The magic struck like a moving wall.

Soldiers fell on both sides. Banners snapped. Loose stones flew from the battlements.

I remained standing.

Barely.

The mage stared at me.

I lifted my hand.

His staff leaped from his grip and landed in Melody’s.

She examined it.

“Can I keep this?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You do not know what it does.”

“That is why I want it.”

Mary took it from her.

“Later.”

Harwick retreated toward the keep doors.

Evelyn stepped into his path.

He froze.

“Lady Valewood.”

“Lord Harwick.”

“You brought him here.”

“No. He brought me.”

Harwick looked toward the battle.

“Berrin is attacking lawful territory. If you still honor your family’s obligations, order your guards to assist me.”

“My guards are protecting the people trapped near the western market.”

“This citadel is the heart of Westmere.”

“No,” Evelyn said. “Its people are.”

Harwick’s jaw tightened.

I joined them.

Alistair and Melody remained near the fallen mage. Mary held the document case beneath one arm and the captured staff in her other hand.

She looked far more dangerous than anyone carrying that many papers should.

Harwick stared at the Crown on my palm.

“You have no authority here.”

Mary opened the case.

“Greykeep granted Westmere Hold to House Harwick under a hereditary stewardship.”

Harwick turned toward her.

“I know my family’s rights.”

“Then you know the conditions.”

“I will not debate law with a servant.”

Mary’s expression became very still.

I had learned to recognize that expression.

Harwick had not.

“That is the Royal Archivist,” I said. “You should probably let her finish.”

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