Memories of Ice

'I can do that, Captain, but I'm just about used up-'



'Just get us there, Wizard. Where's Spin?' Paran looked back at the others, nodded when he found the man. 'Wait here.' The captain hurried to where Spindle crouched with the other sappers, reached out and dragged him from the huddle. 'Hedge, you'll have to do without this man.'



Hedge grinned. 'What a relief, Captain.'



'Hey!'



'Quiet, Spindle.' Paran pulled him to where Quick Ben waited.



'What have you got in mind?' the wizard asked as soon as they arrived.



'In a moment. Quick, those condors — what precisely are they?'



'Not sure, sir.'



'Not what I want to hear, Wizard. Try again.'



'All right, I think they once were real condors — smaller, normal sized, that is. Then the Seer somehow figured out a way of stuffing the birds-'



'Stuffing the birds, ha!' Spindle snickered.



Quick Ben reached out and cuffed the man. 'Don't interrupt again, Spin. Demons, Captain. Possession. Chaos-aspected, which is why their bodies can't quite hold it all.'



'So, demon and bird both.'



'One the master over the other, of course.'



'Of course. Now, which one does the flying?'



'Well, the condor…' Quick Ben's eyes narrowed. He glanced at Spindle, then grinned. 'Well, hey, maybe …'



'What are you two going on about?'



'You hoarding any munitions, Spindle?' Paran asked.



'Six sharpers.'



'Good, in case this goes wrong.'



They turned at a hissed command from Picker to see a half-dozen soldiers sprinting across the street to pull up at the base of the compound wall. Hooks and ropes were readied.



'Damn, I didn't realize how high that wall was — how are they-'



'Look again, sir,' Quick Ben said. 'Toes is with them.'



'So?'



'Watch, sir.'



The squad mage had opened his warren. Paran tried to recall the man's speciality, was answered by the smoky appearance of a dozen ghosts who drifted close around Toes. Paran softly grunted, 'If those are the ones who keep falling over …'



'No, these are local spirits, Captain. People fall from walls all the time, and since this one is more than a few hundred years old, well, the numbers pile up. Anyway, most ghosts are somewhat … single-minded. The last they remember, they were on the wall, patrolling, standing guard, whatever. So, they want to get back up there …'



Paran watched the spirits, six of them now somehow carrying hooks, slither up the wall. The other six had closed ghostly, hands on Toes and were lifting him to follow. The squad mage did not look happy, legs flailing.



'I thought the warrens were poisoned.'



Quick Ben shrugged. 'Hood's hit back hard, Captain. He's cleared a space …'



Paran frowned, but said nothing.



Reaching the top of the wall, Toes took charge once more, retrieving and placing each hook since it was clear that the spirits were either incapable of such precision with physical objects, or disinclined. The mage had to struggle with a couple of them to get the roped hooks from their hands. Eventually, he had all the hooks positioned. Ropes uncoiled, snaked down to the soldiers waiting below.



The first six crossbow-equipped soldiers began climbing.



Paran cast an anxious glance up at the row of condors surmounting the main building. None stirred. 'Thank Hood they sleep deep.'



'Aye, building power for what's to come. Far into their chaotic warren.'



Paran turned round and studied the dark sky to the northwest. Nothing. Then again, it wasn't likely that he'd be able to see them in any case. They'd be coming in low, just as his flight had done.



The second six soldiers with crossbows strapped to their backs crossed the street and set hands to ropes.



'Wizard, ready that warren …'



'It's ready, Captain.'



Picker was suddenly waving madly in Paran's direction. Hissing a curse, the captain rushed to join her. The remaining squads had pulled far back from the street.



'Captain! Lean out, sir, and check down at the gate.'



Paran did so.



There was activity there. The gates had opened, and out were filing, one after another, huge reptilian warriors — K'Chain Che'Malle — so that's what the damned things look like. Hood's breath. Five… ten… fifteen… still more, marching out into the city — towards the north wall.



And Dujek's about to land in their laps.