Orso looked up and saw the rain of bolts and shriekers plummeting down at him.
He thought of Berenice. Her calm, steady eyes. Her slow, creeping smile. Her ravenous, brilliant talents.
May she flourish.
He pressed the button on the side of the imperiat.
* * *
—
Sancia’s caravel was halfway across the bay when all of Tevanne seemed to light up behind them.
It was not an explosion, she felt. She knew what explosions were like. This was something…different.
A flash of light. A blast of wind. A crack like the earth had been split in two. And suddenly the caravel was leaping in the water, trying its best to navigate through the rocking waves.
“Oh my God!” cried Polina. “Oh…Oh my God!”
Sancia’s vision was bursting with dark-green bubbles from the light, but she squinted back at Tevanne and scanned the shore.
Half the city appeared to be gone. Flattened. There wasn’t even anything left to burn.
She looked at the shrieker batteries along the coast, which had escaped the blast. All of them now sat still and silent.
“He did it,” said Sancia quietly. “He really did it.”
Berenice sobbed into her chest, unable to speak. Sancia looked out at the line of ships behind them sailing away from the city, countless refugees from the campos, from the Lamplands, from Foundryside, and the Commons.
“We will need to make for Giva and the plantations as fast as we can,” said Polina. “I’ll get you both physiqueres. And then we’ll have to prepare for what’s coming.” Then she strode away across the deck to confer with her lieutenants.
<Prepare…> said Berenice. She turned to Sancia. <Prepare for what? What’s coming?>
<Don’t you see?> said Clef weakly. <That thing…Tevanne. It’s escaped. It’s free. And Crasedes, he…I’m sure he didn’t perish either.>
An anxious, despairing exhaustion slowly filled Sancia’s mind. <God. This isn’t over at all, is it.>
<No,> said Clef. <No, it isn’t. I think it’s just starting. War is coming. A war unlike any other. But war nonetheless.>
Berenice and Sancia sat there, stunned and broken.
<What will we do?> asked Berenice. <What will we do now?>
<The only thing we can do,> said Sancia. <We’ll have to fight it. There’s no one else who can.>
To my family, both near and far-flung
BY ROBERT JACKSON BENNETT
City of Stairs
City of Blades
City of Miracles
Foundryside
Shorefall
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robert Jackson Bennett is the author, most recently, of the Divine Cities trilogy, which was a 2018 Hugo Awards finalist in the Best Series category. The first book in the series, City of Stairs, was also a finalist for the World Fantasy and Locus awards, and the second, City of Blades, was a finalist for the World Fantasy, Locus, and British Fantasy awards. His previous novels, which include American Elsewhere and Mr. Shivers, have received the Edgar Award, the Shirley Jackson Award, and the Philip K. Dick Citation of Excellence. He lives in Austin with his family.
robertjacksonbennett.com
Twitter: @robertjbennett
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