The Gates of Winter by Mark Anthony Read Free Book Online Page B

glanced at Melia. “Will you watch Tira?”
    The amber-eyed lady picked up the girl, and Tira laid her head on Melia's shoulder. Grace moved toward the ruined gates, threading her way through the crowd. Castle folk ran every which way, their faces white with dust, some of them smeared with blood.
    “There could be another explosion,” Durge sputtered, staring after Grace, brown eyes wide. “What is she doing?”
    “Helping,” Travis said. “Come on.”
    He started after Grace. Dimly, he was aware of the others hesitating, then following after him.
    Travis lost sight of her, then a knot of peasants broke apart, and he saw her kneeling over a crumpled form, blood on her hands. It was a young woman in a serving maid's gray dress. Travis started to move to Grace, wondering if he could help. Grace stood, shaking her head. Much of the young woman's lower body was gone; she must have been close to the blast.
    “Sir Tarus!” Beltan called out behind Travis. “What news do you have?”
    The red-haired knight ran toward them, several men-at-arms on his heels. “The southeastern tower was abandoned,” Tarus said, breathless, as he reached them. “And it broke away clean. There were a few minor injuries, that was all, but the castle wall has been breached—there's a hole in it you could march an army through.”
    “What of this tower?” Durge said. “Surely it was not abandoned. It is too much to hope any within might yet live, yet we must try.”
    Beltan exchanged grim looks with Durge and Tarus. “We'll get them out of there.”
    “And I will see if any intruders yet remain within the castle,” Vani said.
    Travis felt a twinge in his heart. Beltan and Vani were each so strong, so brave. What had he done to deserve the love of one of them, let alone both? Except maybe they didn't care for him after all. Both had avoided him on the journey back to Calavere. Had he done something to drive them away? But it didn't matter. Whether or not they loved him, he loved them. That was the one thing in this fabulous disaster of a life of which he was certain.
    “I can't possibly do this alone,” Grace said, taking in the sight of the wounded. Her words weren't despairing, but rather factual, frustrated.
    “I'm here, sister,” Lirith said, touching her arm. “I'm not so skilled a healer as you, but I'll do what I can.”
    Grace met the witch's dark eyes. “I'll also need help with triage—someone to sort and prioritize the wounded.”
    “Tell me how, and I'll do it,” Sareth said.
    Falken nodded. “And I.”
    Moments later the two men picked among the wounded, determining who was alive, who was dying, and who was already dead. Grace bent over a blackened form, and Lirith grabbed a guardsman, instructing him to fetch supplies they needed—cloth, water, needle, thread, and wine. Melia, holding Tira, rushed after the guard to make sure the order was filled swiftly.
    Travis hesitated, unsure what to do. This wasn't a task he could help with. After all, his power was not about healing, but about breaking. To his surprise, he found he was not alone. Aryn stood beside him, her blue eyes filled with sorrow, but with conviction as well.
    “If there are men trapped beneath the rubble of the guard tower, they will be difficult to find,” she said. “Beltan, Durge, and the others will need help sensing where they are.”
    Travis understood. Healing wasn't Aryn's strength either, but she had other abilities, just as he did. He exchanged a look with the young witch, then together they raced toward the listing tower and into the archway where Beltan, Durge, and Tarus had vanished minutes earlier.
    Dust and smoke closed around them, blinding and choking them. After three steps, Travis lost all sense of direction. He groped, trying to find a wall to guide him, then a slender hand closed around his wrist, and a shimmering green net of light appeared, outlining floor, walls, ceiling.
    This way
, said a voice in his mind.
    Next to him,