Below them, they heard the noise of fighting. The assailant let his hand off of her mouth. “Release him,” she told the guards.

Vlad Li Tam felt the table spinning upright and felt hands at the straps and buckles. When he fell from the rack, he landed heavily upon the marble floor with a gasp.

The voice spoke again. “Can you stand, Tam?”

And suddenly he knew that voice but could not believe his ears. He found the name and croaked it. “Rudolfo?”

The girl gasped her surprise. “Rudolfo, Shepherd of the Light? Father of Jakob, the Child of Promise?”

“I am Rudolfo, yes,” Rudolfo said in a low and bitter voice.

She raised her voice to the others. “Do not harm him. We know the cost of that.”

Vlad Li Tam gathered his strength on the floor and pushed against it with shaking arms. He raised himself somewhat, then slipped and fell facefirst into his own blood. He pushed with his feet and hands, groaning, until he crawled from the sticky mess at the foot of the rack.

“What cost?” he heard Rudolfo ask.

But the girl did not answer. “What does he look like?” she asked instead. “The Child of Promise? Is he pink? Does he glow with life and health? With his mother’s blue eyes and his father’s dark hair? Does he laugh? Or is he gray and mottled, gasping like a fish on the bank for his very life?”

Vlad Li Tam heard the growl in Rudolfo’s voice. “What do you know of my son, Marsh girl?”

She laughed, and it was music. “You came looking for his salvation, but there is none to be found upon the path you have chosen.”

Now Rudolfo ignored her. “Can you stand?” he again asked.

Vlad Li Tam gathered his strength again and pushed himself up, turning so he could sit. The girl stood awkwardly bent backwards, her robe now open as Rudolfo held her from behind. The guards stood near with hands upon their knives, eyes moving from the girl to Vlad Li Tam to the closed doors and the sounds of fighting outside.

Struggling to push himself up, he lost his footing again and slid down, his body shaking from the effort.

Then, the doors burst open and a tornado of violence swept into the observation deck.

He felt hands upon him and heard a voice whispering in his ear. “I will carry you, Father.”

He was lifted up then, cradled like a child in strong, sure arms, and he found himself suddenly weeping. The spasms of grief and relief washed over him and racked his body with great sobs as he clung to the neck of a son he could no longer recognize. Once, before this place, he’d known his children by their voice, their smell, the sound of their approach. But now all he smelled was blood and all he heard were the last poems of his fallen family ringing in his ears.

He became vaguely aware of the fighting around them, aware that Rudolfo stayed near him, holding the girl as a shield and clacking his tongue against the top of his mouth. And then they were fighting their way down the stairs and into the corridor he’d measured so carefully during his early days within this place. He heard the whisper and rasp of blades spinning around him.

Twice his son fell, spilling Vlad onto the ground but covering him with his own body as he did. Each time, the man hefted Vlad up into his arms, finally slinging him over his shoulder like a bag of oranges so that he could better keep his feet with a blade in his left hand.

They fought their way to the ground floor and burst outside into the warm night. The iron vessels were building steam, and one of the schooners was sinking in the harbor. The second wooden ship smoked but still floated, and a band of unmagicked men fought at its gangway on the dock. Vlad could not see the flagship but thought he heard the barking of its cannon.

A wave of invisible force met them on the path down to the dock. These soldiers had been waiting and had had the time to prepare themselves. Vlad felt the power of it, heard the muffled sounds of attack but saw nothing. Still, he rocked backward when that wall hit the son who carried him and toppled them to the ground. He felt a white searing pain as the sea-salted sand ground its way into his open cuts, and he cried out even though he did not want to.

Invisible boots kicked at him and his son, and he heard the crunch of bones breaking nearby.

Then he heard a cry as more of his children fell upon the assailant and drove him down beneath their blades.

Strong hands scooped him up as another son spoke. “I will carry you, Father.”

Pressing forward, they reached the bottom of the stairs. The docks stretched out ahead, dust and sand whirling at the magicked soldiers that fought there.

Another solid push back, and Vlad Li Tam once more fell to the ground. This time, even Rudolfo and the girl he held hostage were knocked down. Vlad couldn’t see what happened next, but he heard Rudolfo’s heavy gasp as the wind left him. Around them, boots and bare feet vied for solid footing as House Li Tam’s front guard fought its way through the resurgence’s soldiers.

“Get up, old man,” Rudolfo whispered in his ear, breathing heavy from exertion. “I can’t carry you and hold this feral cat at the same time.”

Vlad Li Tam rolled to his hands and knees and tried to push himself up. More strong hands lifted him, and he saw these were unmagicked hands. The rear guard-armed with what weapons they could find-now raced along behind them, followed by the young children in white robes still bloodstained from the mark they’d been forced to take.

A low whistle reached his ears. Then, he heard Rudolfo return it. He felt another wind approach on his left and heard the familiar clacking of a scout on the run.

Vlad Li Tam closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly aware of the fear that saturated him. But not fear for himself; fear for his family. Already, so many had died, and the notion that more died now broke what few unbroken pieces of him remained.

He did not see the flash from the flagship, though he heard the blast. Then, a whistling that built until the world erupted into heat and light that forced him to the ground. From where he fell, he saw that the cannon blast had landed in the midst of the rear guard, desolating more than a third of it. The children cowered.

“Stop,” a voice boomed out, enhanced by magicks, and he knew that voice. It was his grandson, Mal Li Tam. “I don’t mind killing the children, though I prefer not to. Release the woman.”

Rudolfo hesitated. “Do it,” Vlad Li Tam said, his voice more pleading than he intended it to be. “I’ll not risk my family further.”

The girl fell forward, then picked herself up, closing her robe. She turned to Vlad and smiled.

Mal Li Tam’s voice called out to them again. “Have your pirate stand down, Rudolfo, and clear the mouth. Ria, bring Vlad Li Tam to his flagship. It seems our plans have changed.”

Vlad looked to her, still surprised at the reasoned tone of his own voice. “If I come with you, will you leave the others in peace?”

She nodded. “Yes, Vlad,” she said. “You have purchased propitiation for your family’s sins.” Her smile widened, and he saw love shining in her eyes. “I will give you the mark of Home and send you to your rest, your blood let and your kin healed.”

She reached out her hand to him, and he knew then that taking it was the most important thing he could do. “I will even carry you if you need it,” she told him.

“I will walk to it,” he said. I will grow my pain into an army.

He forced himself to unsteady feet and trembled at the effort of it. Then, he forced first one foot and then another as his family watched him walk. Ria walked beside him, and when they reached the gangway to the flagship, she waited until he climbed it. Then, she followed.

Mal Li Tam waited for him at the top, standing within view of his cannoneers. Vlad walked to him. “You will keep your word, Mal? You will spare the others in exchange for me?”