Page 175 of The Dragon and the Dove

As Andreas stormed the north bridge with his first regiment, the saints of Fantome ran for the Bridge of Tears, upending their satchels and dumping every last jar of Lightfire into the Verne. The fruits of Nadia’s sleepless night amounted to a month’s supply. It was no small boon, but their plan had been so hastily cobbled together, and the recipe for their dilutant as yet untried, they had no idea how well it was going to work.

If it would even work at all.

‘Hurry,’ yelled Tobias, as the Rose-bearers closed in on them.

Without Caruso and Ransom, Val didn’t like their odds in hand-to-hand combat. But if they could break the prince’s compulsions, they might have a fighting chance.

The grey waters of the Verne turned gold as the Lightfire tricked through it. Paola climbed the railings and threw out her arms, calling on her power.

A nearby Strix dropped low, marking her as prey.

Nadia shoved Tobias across the bridge. ‘Come on, Saint of Beasts. Get to it.’

Tobias gripped the railings, his brows knitting as he tunnelled into the well of his own power. Val’s magic rippled in answer, sensing the threads of his magic reaching towards the sky.

He gritted his teeth as the Strix dived, as violent as a bullet. It stalled mid-flight, floundering a hundred feet or so above the river, as though it had forgotten how to fly. Its wings dropped and it listed towards the bank.

‘Good,’ hissed Nadia, steadying the boy by his shoulders.

Sweat poured down his face as he commanded the bird. It pulled up sharply, stirring a brisk wind that carried the scent of rot. Its rider cried out, yanking hard on the reins, but the Saint of Beasts had woven his spell and the Strix now answered to him. He sent it soaring over the bridge, towards the harbour, where it bucked at the crack of its rider’s whip.

One down. Hundreds more to go.

Further north, a flock of Strix were circling Traveller’s Arch. It looked as though a feeding frenzy had broken out, the squall of black feathers swallowing the arch and, with it, Sera, Ransom and Caruso.

Val’s heart gave a painful beat. Ransom would die to protect Sera, but who would look out for Caruso?

Tobias drew a steadying breath as another Strix came. This one he scrambled in half the time. Soon, his hair was sodden with sweat and the blood vessels in his eyes had burst. The Strix were not just beasts but monsters.

To get inside their heads … to stay there…

‘He can’t do this much longer,’ said Anouk. ‘We need to get off the bridge.’

Val paced, watching the advancing Rose-bearers. ‘Paola, hurry!’

The Saint of Storms couldn’t hear her. She didn’t notice the Rose-bearers coming for the bridge or the monsters diving from above.

Her eyes – and her magic – were on the river.

It lifted in ribbons of fine gold mist, the water level dropping as clouds formed like a skim along the top. Lightfire glimmered. It was not yet a lightstorm, but it was a start. The surface receded, revealing tendrils of plants sprouting from the riverbed, and the debris that had gathered there over the years: stone and refuse, broken furniture and clothes, sunken boats and lost coins.

Pale gold clouds formed a canopy, pushing the Strix higher. The wind stirred, carrying Paola’s storm – and all that raw heaving magic – over Merchant’s Way.

Not a single Rose-bearer looked up or stopped to contemplate the golden sky. When the rain fell in fat glittering drops, they didn’t notice that either. Not until the Lightfire plinked off their helmets and slid down their faces, sprinkled their cheeks and pooled along their lashes.

It was only then that they blinked. And frowned. Returning to their senses with such quickness their swords clattered in the streets.

Val’s relief was short-lived. It was raining across Merchant’s Way, but there were soldiers on the bridge. Still compelled. Still armed.

Anouk crushed her fists, wrenching a lamp post from the ground. It fell at the foot of the bridge, flattening two Rose-bearers. Their swords flew across the cobbles, and Val lunged to grab one. Nadia swiped up the other. The bridge trembled as Anouk fought to gain control of her magic. More Rose-bearers charged, too far from the cleansing effect of Paola’s storm. Too enthralled to reason with.

Try it, urged the old voice, and Val found herself running headlong towards them, pushing ahead of her friends.

She swung at the nearest soldier, beating him back. With fire in her eyes and magic on her tongue, she hissed, ‘Listen well to the Saint of Truth!’

The soldier froze.

‘You are destroying the city you once swore to protect. Think for yourself! Act for yourself!’