Dawn shattered over the world as the last vestiges of the storm cleared—ice coating every ounce of snow, every flat surface slick with it. The sun peeked through the iron gray clouds in shafts and tendrils, one such glimpse so abrupt and dazzling that Matt stepped back from the rail of the watchtower with a curse.
His fingers were numb from the long night on watch and his nose was painfully cold, cheeks hot and stinging from the ice that had lashed them. He scanned the horizon as he tried to rub warmth back into his half-frozen fingers.
Nothing. Not yet, anyway.
“Matt! Ready to come down?”
He grinned at the sound of Davon’s voice. “You bet.” He clambered down, almost slipping as his fingers struggled to grip the ladder’s rungs.
“I’m surprised that Thom’s not out here with you,” Davon said as Matt stepped aside of the ladder.
“I sent him to bed five hours ago,” Matt said. “Told him there wasn’t any point in both of us freezing ass out here if the weather wasn’t going to break.”
“But now it has,” Davon said, already starting to climb up.
“And I’m on my way to wake him,” Matt said. “Blow the whistle if you see anything.”
“Anything like what?”
“Like anything,” Matt said. He slipped the first step before he caught his balance on the icy snow. “We just know the attack’s coming. We’re not sure what it’s going to look like yet.”
“Right.”
His boots crunched against the crust of ice over snow as he headed back into the warmth of the sheds and tents. He didn’t stop for coffee like he usually would, instead headed straight for where Thom and Marin would still be sleeping if he judged them right.
They might still be busy. I should probably knock. Five hours would be a long time for them to be busy, though.
He split the difference, rapping on the door and then simply walking in. “Sun’s rising and the storm’s broken,” he said as he crossed the plank floor to their bed and reached down to shake their shoulders. “Time to get up.”
Marin swatted him and Thom cursed him, then sat straight up.
“The storm broke?” he said, traces of sleep disappearing from his voice as he asked the question. “How long ago?”
“Just now,” Matt said, stepping back from the bed to let them both get up. He half turned away—while he wasn’t squeamish about barging in on them while they were in bed, he still had no desire to see what they looked like beneath the sheets. “Trust me, I didn’t hold off on waking you. Storm broke and morning came at the same time and Davon relieved me about four minutes later.”
The bed creaked behind him—one or bother of them getting out of bed. “Any sign of attack?” Thom asked.
“Nothing yet,” Matt said. “But you’d both better hurry, just in case.”
“We’ll meet you by the fire inside of five, Matt,” Marin said. “Figure out who else is up and ready for whatever’s about to hit us.”
The muscles in his back tightened, scalp prickling at her words. “Did you see something?” he asked.
“No,” Marin said. “But I don’t need to see anything to know that something’s coming, now do I?”
I guess not. Matt nodded and ducked out into the darkness of the hall, jogging back toward the tent and the cookfires. Tala would probably be there despite the date and time, despite the fact that she was supposed to be getting ready to hunker down in the steam tunnels and wait for the fighting to stop.
As he’d suspected she would be, she was there, making bacon and giving Phelan and Thordin a sly, knowing smile as she teased them. She threw a glance over her shoulder at Matt as he joined them and smiled briefly.
“Looks like the storm broke,” she said.
“Only took all night,” Matt answered, snagging a coffee cup from a nearby shelf and stooping to pick up the coffee pot that sat on a warm piece of flagstone near the fire. “Glad it held off on breaking until morning. At least most of us will be well-rested when the attack comes.”
“It won’t be long,” Phelan said. “Give it an hour, maybe a little more. Cariocecus has to feel the battlefield first.”
“I’d ask how you know so much about it, but I’m not sure I want to know,” Matt said, pouring his coffee. “It’s safer for me not to ask, isn’t it?”
Phelan’s shoulder hitched in a shrug. “This isn’t my first time on the battlefield, Matt, and I’ve heard tales from those who’ve faced Cariocecus—enough of them to know that he’s not going to walk into this until he’s ready. He’s calculating, strategic.”
Well, we knew that. He’s tricky. He never would have found a way to crack our defenses the first time if he hadn’t started manipulating Leah.
At least the wards would hold this time—he hoped, anyway.
Matt gulped down some of the coffee and glanced toward the clouds, slowly growing lighter as the storm cleared and the sun rose.
“It’ll be a bloody morning,” he predicted quietly.
“Hopefully not as bloody as we fear,” Phelan said, his voice just as quiet.
All Matt could do was nod and pray his ancient friend was right.
